Feeling All The Feels Is Hard Work

I went to a church service yesterday to see my husband sing. During the prayer at the end of her sermon, the Pastor referred to four victims of two separate tragic crimes which occurred in our town last week. I was tearing up as we said Amen. My husband's solo was immediately afterward and then the congregation sang Amazing Grace. Talk about a triple whammy. I couldn’t stop crying.

I couldn’t sing. I couldn’t look at anyone. All I could do was cry. And feel. All the feelings at once: proud of my husband, grateful for him and our marriage, love for his family who was there, and for my family that is far away, grief for the crime victims, grief for losses in our family, for friends fighting cancer. Each feeling was connected to the next until they became one giant pulsing emotion.

After the service, my husband received several compliments on his solo. “You brought your wife to tears,” commented one white haired lady with a smile. My sweet husband smiled and rubbed my arm. He knew the truth.

I don’t know the victims of the homicides in our town. That doesn’t make the violence any less senseless, the losses any less tragic and horrific. I think of their grieving families and my heart breaks.

 

At home, my husband came downstairs after changing out of his suit to find me lying on the couch weeping again. He came over to comfort me but didn’t speak. “You know what’s weird?” I sniffed, “Right now, I’m crying because I’m so grateful that everyone I love is alive.” 

He sat with me for a while, then left to make us some tea. I got down on the floor with my dog Charlie. He’s a very emotionally intelligent creature. (I have a friend who refers to him as a Buddha.) I curled up beside him and he touched his nose to the top of my head and we stayed this way for a while. I called to my husband to come and take this photo because this was real. This is what it looks like to be a sensitive, emotional human being who gets overwhelmed by feeling and thinking and loving. Sometimes I just can’t move. 

My husband is a sensitive empathic soul as well. He says “It’s a blessing and a curse.” I don’t necessarily think it’s ever a curse but it isn’t always easy or fun. 

Friends who read my blog and Facebook posts often compliment me on my positivity and gratitude practice. I appreciate that people notice. That’s the upside. I usually don’t discuss the flipside, but I feel called to talk about it today.  

As one of my favorite writers/self-help Gurus, Glenn Doyle Melton says, “Life is hard—not because we’re doing it wrong, just because it’s hard.”

When we live fully, when we love fully, when we appreciate life as much as we can, life is difficult. That shit hurts. When we drift through our days without looking around or being passionate about things, it can be easier. I can’t tell you how many times in my life I’ve thrown up my head back and wailed “Why do I have to care so much?" knowing that if I cared less, I'd hurt less.

The thing is if I didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t be me. If I didn’t check cardboard boxes along the road to make sure there aren’t kitten inside, if I didn’t weep when I read the last Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants book, then I also wouldn’t connect with the performers I work with or be in tune with my pets’ health. It’s all the same muscle. Is it my brain or my heart or my soul? Or a combination of the three? I have no idea but it’s real. 

I know I'm not the only soul like myself out there. We're trained from a young age to be ashamed of our emotional selves and hide them. So what do you do when the feelings get to be too much?

H is for Humor

I love to laugh. Especially that rolling, uncontrollable laughter that you can't stop even if you try. I like when I laugh at something without even having the thought that's it's funny first. I like to laugh until my abs are sore, until my eyes are watering. I love being around people who can make me laugh a lot. My closest friends are those with whom I share my juvenile sense of humor. 

When it comes to movies, I prefer comedies over other genres. If I'm going to spend 2+ hours of my life watching a film, I want to be entertained. I don't want to be scared or sad or have to think too much. I like other movies at times, but a good, silly comedy is best-think Austin Powers or classic Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler. The goofier, the better!

I have learned that finding humor in difficult situations helps make them bearable. This is part of what inspires me to be a non-fiction writer. I believe that if I tell my story of getting fired, or divorced, or concussed, in a humorous light, I can bring a bit of hope to someone else in a similar spot who may not have seen the humor yet. 

My favorite writer, David Sedaris, is the champion of this. He can tell a story from his less than idyllic childhood, or an awkward social interaction that makes the reader cringe and laugh at the same time. This is what I aspire to as a writer!

I'll admit it's not always possible to laugh at our hardships as we face them. Sometimes it takes weeks/months/years to be able to look back on something and say "Okay, that was funny." But I believe it's important that we're able to do it eventually, to laugh at our blunders and failed attempts. Even if it doesn't deter my next blunder, it reminds me to think Hey, at least this will make for a funny story later!

D is for Dogs

I recall a clear afternoon many years ago, when I was living in North Carolina. Driving out of my neighborhood on the way to go shopping, I saw a man walking behind a German Shepherd carrying a claw like poop scooper and a plastic grocery bag. Ugh, I thought, I would NEVER follow a dog around with a plastic bag!

At the time I was a self proclaimed cat lady. My mother is still one, in her 60's. She's had at least one cat at all times, since before I was born. When I was five, one of them had kittens under her bed. I would squat down on the floor to peer under at the squirming, mewing little dark clumps. I've loved cats ever since. 

I was living in a one bedroom apartment with four cats when Ritz came into my life. I was working as a veterinary technician. He was an eight week old Shar Pei puppy who was injured and brought in for euthanasia. His injuries weren't actually life threatening and I agreed to nurse him back to health and turn him over to a rescue organization. That plan lasted only a few hours! It became clear to me right away that this little puppy had found me for a reason. 

Throughout the course of his life, Ritz earned the nickname of Cat Dog because his habits were cat like and he absolutely adored all kitties. But even though he and I both were cat lovers, he managed to show me all the wonderful differences between dogs and cats that make canine companions fun!

Ritz was my soul mate. He came to me a few months after I'd separated from my husband and was by my side through the years as I healed and started life over in Montana. If I received an invitation someplace, it was understood that I wouldn't go unless I could take Ritz with me! During the almost eight years he was my companion, he taught me so much about loyalty and showed me the value in embracing one's uniqueness. 

A few weeks before Ritz turned seven, I came home with my second rescue dog. At the time I did not want two dogs. To be honest, I thought I'd never have another dog after Ritz because he was so special. But there was something about Charlie that spoke to me in a way I'd never experienced before. 

My bond with Ritz didn't leave much room for me to connect with Charlie. The two guys tolerated each other but never became buddies.  Then, about 9 months after Charlie came to live with us, Ritz suddenly became ill and passed away a few days later from an advanced cancer of which he had hidden his symptoms from us very well. 

I truly didn't know how my life would go on without Ritz. As I grieved, Charlie stepped up in a way that amazed and comforted me. From that point forward, I've realized that he has an uncanny ability to know exactly what I need and provide me with it. If I needed to lay in bed all day weeping and napping, Charlie was right beside me snoring away. If I wanted to walk five miles, he kept up the whole way. While he is nearly the opposite of Ritz when it comes to personality, Charlie has proven to be  a lovely addition to my life. 

When Ritz died, my heart was broken. I swore I would never get another puppy and go through this again. That lasted about four months! And while I didn't necessarily want a puppy and all the work that comes with it, my heart needed it. 

Tinsley will be two in July. He and Charlie fill my days with love and laughs, and with mud and drool. They are happy, silly, friendly dogs. I don't know that Ritz would approve! And as the second anniversary of Ritz's death approaches, I still miss him regularly but I can see how his journey with me had come to its natural conclusion. He knew I no longer needed a guardian. 

The cool thing is that even though Ritz is no longer with me physically, I know his spirit still lingers. I can see his influence over my current dogs. He taught things to Charlie who in turn taught them to Tinsley. So even though Ritz is gone, his lesson to me is still clear: I need to have a dog (or two!) in my life to remind me how to live each day fully!

A Stranger In A Strange Town

Me in the bank vault at a Starbucks!

As I've traveled from town to town in the U.S. during the past several weeks, I've noticed a few things. While every community is a little different, they're all pretty much the same. There's an Applebee's, a Wal-Mart and a Home Depot. One morning I walked my dog outside my hotel, staring out at the vast Sam's Club parking lot and beyond to a strip mall behind a busy intersection, groggy before I had any coffee, and I actually forgot where I was for a moment! There were no distinguishing characteristics to remind me what city I was in. 

I'm sure people who live in these places would disagree with me. I know each town has its own history and appealing qualities. I found one Ohio suburb particularly charming after noticing an abundance of repurposed buildings. I browsed in a book store that used to be a church and visited two Starbucks that used to be banks, one of which still features a vault! I saw a liquor store that used to be a church and a Christian academy topped with a giant lighthouse, which I'm guessing was previously something sea food related! 

In each chain restaurant sits a familiar cast of characters, the hung over college kids having breakfast at IHOP, the elderly couple having a 4pm dinner at Bob Evans, blue collar men in grease stained Carharts having beers at the restaurant bar. People complain about the weather or politics, they cheer the local sports team playing on the flat screen TVs. 

For the most part people are friendly, if maybe a bit cautious. A waitress who asked to see my ID wanted to know what brought me from Montana to an O'Charley's in Ohio on a Tuesday night at 10pm in the snow. 

A couple weeks ago I went to a Columbus Blue Jackets hockey game, to root for the away team which is "my team", the Philadelphia Flyers. I felt a little guilty, wearing my bright orange and cheering against the home team but since I grew up outside of Philadelphia, I couldn't help it! When a group of Philly fans started a chant of "Let's go Flyers!" the twenty something guy seated in front of me (who gave me a nice view of his hairy butt crack each time he stood, despite the fact that he was wearing a belt) returned the cheer in the same tune with "You live in Ohio!" It struck me as interesting that he assumed all of the several thousand sports fans in the arena live nearby. I don't live in Ohio and I was there. I think it's interesting to see how some people aren't able to see much past their own personal bubble.

As I've aged, I've noticed that people's opinions are based on their own life experience. And if they don't have much of that, they tend to go with what they've seen or been told while growing up. That young guy at the hockey game probably couldn't yet imagine a life where he traveled to a different city to see his favorite team play. Just like the people who didn't support me going on this adventure probably haven't ever had the opportunity or desire to take bold action, to demand change in life, to shake things up. 

There are things I miss about home: my purple comforter, my sweet little Boston Terrier, home made food, having a daily routine. And there are things I certainly don't miss: house work, obligatory dinner parties, shoveling snow. It's nice to go to the hotel desk when I need more toilet paper, trash bags and even coffee. There's a part of me that could maintain this lifestyle indefinitely and another part that's just really tired. Not having a place to settle is fun and appealing. It's not as scary as I thought it might be. One of the most frustrating parts has simply been figuring out how to operate a new shower/faucet every few days! But I'm also constantly reminded that I don't have a home base right now which can sometimes leave a gal feeling a bit disconnected.

I've learned some incredible things about myself in the weeks since I left Montana, and about the people I love. I've learned who my real friends are and what parts of the country I'll choose to bypass in the future! I've realized how important adventure is to me, experiencing new places and things. I've seen my toughness and my weak spots. And although I already knew it, I've realized how important and amazing my dog, Charlie, is. He's made more friends on this adventure than I have! 

I know I still have a lot to learn about myself and about life. In the near future, I will face a lot more unknowns. They're intimidating. I don't know exactly where I'm going next. That's exhilarating and terrifying both at the same time, which is the evidence I need to know I need to push ahead. 

We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Blog Posts

Me at The Bean in Millennium Park in Chicago last week

One of the most frustrating, yet most beautiful things about being human is that the Earth keeps spinning when we're faced with a crisis and it feels like everything has screeched to a halt. Even if it's not a catastrophe, life altering change can make me want to hang a sign on my front door that says "This household is dealing with some serious shit, please come back another time" and hide under my bed until I've recovered. But life doesn't work that way. No matter what I'm dealing with, the world continues to move along; my work place is still busy, my mother still calls (and calls and calls), UPS still knocks to deliver a package. Summer before last, shortly after my dog died, the home owners association sent a letter stating people were complaining about the unsightliness of our lawn and I thought How in the hell can anyone care about the lawn at a time like this? But they did care, because everyone else's life went along as usual.

Fortunately, I have not been dealing with a catastrophic loss such as that recently, but life as I know it has changed and that's always scary, even when it's exciting. Over the past few years, The Universe has nudged me a couple times. It gave me opportunities for change and I turned it down, both times, instead choosing the safe, comfortable route. And so The Universe has brought a battering ram this time and it is speaking to me loud and clear.

I've been absent from the blogosphere for a while. I apologize. I know it makes some of my friends nervous. This tends to happen to me when I have a lot going on in my personal life. If I'm dealing with a situation I can't publicly write about, I have a hard time "ignoring" it and writing about other stuff. I still write a ton, but I can't bring myself to post. Such is the life of a non-fiction writer, I suppose...

Details will be emerging shortly, I promise. I'm on an adventure and I'm documenting it every step of the way, and I'll share it when the time is right! In the mean time, know that I'm safe and writing A LOT, and prepare for lots of pictures of my dog, Charlie, as he accompanies me on my journey!

Me & Charlie, nap time at the hotel

Some Pennies For My Thoughts

Yesterday, as I picked up a penny in the grocery store parking lot, I had a thought: I wonder if a person kept track of all the pennies she picked up in a lifetime, how much money would that be? Although an interesting thought, it didn’t seem practical (a baby can’t pick up change) so then I wondered how much change a person finds in the course of a year. As I dropped my new penny into my purse, I decided that would be a fantastic project to start at the new year. I keep a notebook with me all the time anyway so I could easily jot it down each time I found a coin! I tucked the idea away to explore later. 

That same afternoon, I was riding my bike in my neighborhood when I  cruised over a shiny penny. I hit my brakes but second guessed myself and sped up to keep up with my boyfriend. I started telling him my idea and then interrupted myself, “I guess I wouldn’t have to wait til the new year, would I? I could start today!”

We turned around, so I could get my second cent of the day, but although we searched and searched, we couldn’t find that dang lone coin. So I decided I’ll have to start my project the next time I find one!

As I was circling around on my bike, staring down at the pavement looking for that penny, I remembered a comment I overheard recently. A woman was giving a couple pennies to someone who was lacking change for a purchase and she said “I don’t mind giving away pennies because they’re worthless.” I kept my mouth shut but I was flabbergasted. I was thinking Does she know that 100 pennies equal a dollar? I was so amused by the comment that I Tweeted about it (#DoYouUnderstandHowMoneyWorks?). A friend immediately responded that it was a coincidence he had just looked at his retirement account and it had gained one cent that day which would equate to a $300 increase over time!

Okay, so the pennies I pick up won’t earn interest (unless I put them in the bank-note to self!) but they will add up. My collection will not be limited to coins, but I expect that’s what I’ll find the most of. However, I once found a $20 bill blowing through a Wal-Mart parking lot! Another time, I picked up what I thought was a piece of paper but turned out to be a white enveloped containing $40 cash!

I guess I technically stole that money, but in each case there was no way to track down an owner. I have definitely lost money from being careless, like being out drinking at a bar with a $20 bill in my back pocket that’s gone when I go for it next, so I know it happens to the best of us.

I’ve written previously about my habits as a “picker upper” as I like to call myself. No matter if I’m walking or driving, I’m frequently noticing abandoned treasures “Ooooh a pen!” or “Hey look, a glove!” Each time, my boyfriend’s response is the same: “Gross” and he encourages me to leave the lonely object where it lies.

It’s funny that my youngest dog has turned out to be a treasure seeker as well. On our walks, he is continuously scanning the ground for something delicious and/or fun. The day he found unwrapped Rolos underneath our bank of mailboxes, I hated to make him spit them out because it was such a spectacular find! He’s found dog biscuits under there before, so I can’t blame him for looking, which he still does every time we check the mail! He’s found balls and bones and even tried to pick up a sock once (that one, I made him leave behind). My boyfriend finds if funny and revolting at the same time. “He’s definitely your dog”, he’ll chuckle and shake his head, while Tinsley trots along carrying a soggy tennis ball he rooted out of the gutter. 

Tinsley with one of his treasures

For now, I’m looking down as much as possible when I’m out of the house, waiting for my next find! I don’t know what I’ll do with the money I collect over the next year. It will probably depend on how much it is. Maybe I’ll donate it to a charity or maybe I’ll buy myself a treat! You’ll have to stay tuned to find out! 

There's A First Time For Everything (And Sometimes They Suck)

This past week has brought a lot of firsts for me: my first trip to the in-laws without Ritz, my first holiday without him and yesterday, my first hike without him trotting along the trail. Just when I think I'm healing and starting to feel better, it hits me out of nowhere and I feel so sad. No matter how hard I try or how much I write, I still can't find the right words to explain exactly how much I miss him.

As I've said, Charlie is doing a great job of being an only dog. This weekend marked his first solo hike with us and he did great. I actually feel a bit bad that I obviously wasn't giving Chuck enough credit previously because every time he does well at something I'm so surprised and pleased. Since he previously belonged to a transient guy, I'm always a little nervous about letting him off leash. I half expect him to bolt after a squirrel and never return. We hiked about eight miles on Saturday, which was the longest hike we've taken him on.

This was my first big hike of the summer and it felt good. Getting into the woods always reminds me why I live here. It's so easy to get caught up in every day life; grocery shopping, gardening, all that regular stuff. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually glad to do those things but sometimes it's exhausting. Sometimes it's just like "I have got to get away from this house and out of this town" and two hours later I'm standing in a field of wild flowers on the side of a mountain. It's amazing.

Second Best Isn't So Bad

Charlie came into my life almost one year ago. I'll just say he was abandoned by his owner and I rescued him. I will admit I was reluctant at first. As I've said before, I'm definitely a cat person and not a dog person. In my 20 plus years of working with animals, I've brought home many, many kitties but only one dog and he was extraordinary. But Charlie chose me as his person and there's nothing I can do about that. I tried to ignore it at first. He went to live with my in-laws but that lasted for about a week and he came back. I considered taking him to the no kill shelter or trying to find him another home but I  knew he'd keep coming back to me. I didn't really want to keep him but I didn't want to not have him either. I have faith in The Universe and figured there was a reason he had showed up. In the back of my mind, I realized that Charlie was much younger than Ritz and therefore would be a comfort to me when my old friend eventually passed away. It took a lot of adjusting on everyone's part: Charlie didn't know how to eat out of a bowl or play with a squeaky toy. He knew his name and that was about it. Ritz was less than pleased when he realized this new guy was staying but he took charge and made it clear he was the boss. The cats hated him but that's not surprising and they stayed out of his way. We existed this way for several months.

Every once in a while, I'd wonder if I should try to re-home Charlie but it never seemed like the right thing to do. After Ritz passed away in late May, I knew Charlie's purpose for coming to me was clear. I'm sure I'm not exaggerating when I guess  Ritz was bullying him into a submissive role in our home. However, I also think Ritz was training him on how to be the companion that I need. It just so happened that the week after Ritz passed I became unemployed. Charlie stepped up in a way I never expected and has kept me company literally every second of the day. If I needed to spend the day in bed being sad, he was at my feet. If I wanted to walk four miles, he trotted the whole way. He lays on my yoga mat, rides in the passenger seat and eats the tops from my strawberries.

I'm thankful to have Charlie yet he's a constant reminder that he isn't Ritz. He barely lifts his head when the doorbell rings, greets the pizza delivery guy with a wagging tail and doesn't mind strangers strolling by on the path next to our fence. I hate to admit it's a relief to have a dog who isn't chronically ill. I traveled with Charlie last weekend and didn't have to take any medications or medical supplies. I put him in the back yard with our niece and nephew and never worried that he might bite them.

 I lovingly refer to Charlie as my "Hobo Dog". He definitely is special in his own way. I'm glad he had some time with Ritz to learn the way to be a dog in our house. Otherwise I would have gone out immediately to get a new dog and that wouldn't have felt right. But for all the times I look at him wanting him to be someone else, there are just as many times I look at him and feel sure that he is the dog I need by my side right now.

P is for Pets

I blog about my pets often. I know I'm biased, but I think they're pretty extraordinary creatures. When I think back over my life, I can only come up with about 11 months total that I've been without a pet. Even when I lived in college housing I had a parakeet. I was raised with cats and consider myself a "cat lady". I never imagined I'd own one dog, let alone two. They came into my life seven years apart, with no dogs in between, and there is a long interesting story as to how each came to claim me as his person. I truly believe that pets find us and not the other way around. I also believe that each of them have something to give, to bring to our lives, to teach us. My oldest dog has been an incredible companion to me, and has been with me through the most difficult years of my life. I was able to live on my own, which was something I really needed to do, because in him I always had company. My younger dog has taught me patience and compassion in a way I'd never experienced before. There have been countless cats in my life and they remind me to go with the flow and to take care of myself. My youngest cat was a hand raised baby and he is different than any cat I've ever had. I have a large tank full of goldfish that often inspires me to sit and do nothing but watch them, to decompress.

They all remind me constantly what unconditional love is and how important it is to spend time with those who matter most. Through all these amazing animals, I've come to embrace my role in the universe as a caretaker to them and to all the others who will come after them.
This is my lot, to have pet hair on everything I own, nose smears on my car windows and dog treats in my coat pockets.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Kiss

The majority of my photo challenge entries include pictures of pets. Usually I think of a specific photo or two right away upon seeing the new challenge each week. When I go to find the image, I often scroll through my others thinking "Maybe I should try to find a non-pet photo this week". But often I go back to my first instinct because it's usually the right choice. As I look back through  my previous challenge entries, it's clear that pets are a major part of my life and I like that I am able to show that. I thought of this photo immediately upon seeing this week's challenge. It's me receiving a smooch from one of my mother's dogs, who is no longer with us. She was a loving, energetic dog. She brought my mom a lot of joy in the short time she was in our family. I'm glad I have this memory of her captured and am able to share it. 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Home

I'm a home body. I always have been. I need down time to recharge. One of my favorite things about my home (no matter where that is) is my pets. I'm always happy to come home to them whether I've been away for days or just an hour. They are what makes my home a great sanctuary and they provide me with love and companionship in a way that people simply can't. This picture was taken on an afternoon I had come home early from work because I wasn't feeling well. My dogs always seem to know when I need extra TLC!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Thankful

       




             This year I've participated in what seems to have become a social media tradition. For each day of November, I wrote a FaceBook status describing something I was thankful for that day. Some days the post was long and meaningful, being thankful to have a loving supportive partner or being on a sports team that has encouraged my personal growth. But some days were simpler, like being thankful for my new tires after a big snow or at the end of a long stressful day being thankful for my hot tub or new pajamas. I typically write my post each evening so that I can reflect on the day and write about what I had appreciated most. There have only been a couple of days when I struggled to find one good thing, but there was always something there. I've made sure to pick a new thing each day. It was uplifting to see that I could recognize the good there is in my life, even after a crappy day. I've also really enjoyed seeing others posting what they are thankful for. It's inspiring to see my friends finding joy in their lives and realizing how similar we are, even at our most different. My friends are thankful for a nice glass of wine, a good meal, their child getting over a cold. Yet what I've noticed just as much as those posts are the people who aren't participating and instead are posting their regular updates, complaining about having a cold or a sore back or being called in to work on a day off. It's funny that I always can think of a response like "Be thankful that you have a job to be called in to" but I rarely share my opinion because I know it likely won't be appreciated. I wish I could help those people see the silver lining but I know from my own past that no one can force you to see it until your ready, and some people never do.
         So in this season of gratitude, here are some photos of the things I am most thankful for this year: My partner, my dogs, my roller skates, the beautiful place where I live and amazing home cooked meals.

     

Messy Pets

        A long time ago, I resigned myself to the belief that I would either have nice things or pets but not both. I don't believe this is true for everyone but it has been for me. I wouldn't say my house is a pig sty by any means but it definitely isn't a neat, tidy place all the time. "Lived in" is what I like to call the look.

       We currently have five pets, which I will admit puts us a bit above my comfortable maximum. Some days are definitely more challenging than others, but I truly believe animals find us for a reason and these creatures all need to be with us right now. Between work and life, sometimes it's hard to find the energy to sweep the floor again immediately after the dogs drag in dead grass, and I often avoid sitting on the floor while wearing dark pants.


       How would my life be different if my car seats weren't covered in dog hair but I'd taken all my road trips alone? Sure the couch wouldn't have dents but it'd probably be a pretty lonely boring house most of the time. For me, it's more than a fair trade.