walking the dog and namaste

Lucy gets a walk just about every day. this is both good and miserable, and while I would like to tell you that my motives are pure and honorable, sometimes I just really want to feel less guilty about not going for a run or working out. but the 30 minutes we spend walking around the neighborhood really does good for us both.

Lu gets to continue marking her territory, aka the entire south side, by peeing on every square inch, and I try to find stillness. unless of course we are on day four of Ben being gone, and it is so windy outside that it feels like we are in a scene of Twister, and the brand new roll of poop bags falls out of my hand and starts spiraling down the street JUST as the wind picks up, and then of course Lucy sees a bunny and pulls in the opposite direction…

WHAT is my life? all woe, I know.

but, on the average day, when the sun is shining and there is a gentle breeze that feels more like I’m napping in a hammock than outrunning a storm, it is a good time to think and plan out our life like I know what is going to happen.

so I walk. and I think. and I throw in a “why did that happen? that kinda sucked.”

and I walk. and I breathe. and I throw in a “that person is really difficult. I don’t want to be nice. but I’m going to try better to be a nice person.”

and I walk. and I listen. to silence, to sirens, to the click of Lucy’s steps, to other dogs barking from inside as Lu prances by shaking her hips and smelling all the smells.

and I walk. and I pick up Lu’s poop. and I throw in a “where can I get those flowers  for our front steps?”

and I walk. and I talk to Lucy. who suddenly has to smell every blade of grass.

nothing follows a pattern. nothing rolls to a rhythm. it is sporadic and it is honest. it is just my mind. my mind communicating to whatever higher power it finds. with pauses to think about the world around me.

finding stillness is not always easy, but it is worth it. maybe (probably) I will still freak out every once in a while, but maybe I will freak out a little less. maybe some day I will be a Zen Buddhist. maybe not. probably not. but I might be stiller, and I might be able to dream big, but still have roots in the present, to remember what is important and significant today.

prayer, meditation, stillness, whatever you want it to be, can look a lot like walking the dog. so, thanks for the walks (and the talks), Lu!

on another positive note, Lucy and I survived five sleeps without Ben, and even though we had to channel our inner Beyoncé to be independent women this week, by this morning (…the last morning) I didn’t have to pry Lucy from the bed to get her outside so I could go to work, and we didn’t kill any plants!

throw your hands up at us.