I am lying in bed and listening. It is still night. Well, early morning really. 2:00 AM. My puppy is in her crate. She likes sleeping there. This is new for me as all my other dogs slept in my bed. The newest one always got the pillow next to my head and then the others would sleep in a line down my body. Always on the right side of the bed. I have the middle. Garth has the left side. But now I lie here, the darkness around me and I listen. To see if my puppy is up. Straining my ears to make sure that she is peaceful and safe but not going to check least she wake to my movements and need to get up. And as I lie here, in worry and relief both, I remember those times when my babies were new and would fall asleep in their own cribs or beds. This was new for me, too, as usually they slept in bed with us. In the middle at first, until they were older and then along the right side of my body. With Garth to my left.
I am sitting on the floor, near the front door of my house. It is late morning and the sun warms the world outside my home. My puppy is asleep on my lap. My legs are crossed and the weight of her body, which feels so good, is also pressing the bones of my ankles into the wood of the floor. My feet have fallen asleep. And as I sit here, in blissful discomfort I remember those times when my babies were new, and would fall asleep, finally, as I sat on the couch. My arm not quite in a comfortable place. My water glass just a bit past the length of my arm. The phone across the room and the TV off with the remote sitting proudly at its side. But there is just no way that I am going to move. I am out with my dog. Proud of her and on guard as her ears, newly cropped, are taped to a cone on her head. She looks like she is going to a birthday party or is dressed in costume as Marge from the Simpsons. What a shame, a woman says to me, under her breath, as she walks by. It's not a shame, she's a Doberman, I say. And she proceeds to make some additional, judgmental comments. I say that the more negativity she puts out in the world the more miserable her own life will be. That like attracts like. And she says fuck you and gets in her car and drives away. And I remember those times when my babies were new and life was a free for all for anyone, anywhere to tell me to put a hat on that sweet baby’s head, it is cold out. Or, take the hat off, it is too hot for that child. And put on sox and feed them this and nurse over here and what do you mean you sleep with your children and school them at home and how will they learn and you let them eat when they’re hungry and not when it’s dinner time and what about calcium and what about structure. And I was younger than and wanted to fight. But not now. It is the end of the day, the Ojai sun sets pink and sweet and my puppy runs fast. Back and forth and back and forth again. Along the length of my lawn she chases me as I race her speed, chanting the word running, in sing song fashion. She runs until she drops to the lawn and sleeps in an instant. And I remember those times when my babies were new and were needing their rest and so the opposite existed. A running of sorts in wonder and discovery. I would watch as they expanded their space, energized with fatigue until they fall into me and into deep sleep. And I would hold them close, in sweet slumber. Puppy smell sweet. On this day, I remember all this. And more. I remember those times when my babies were new.
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March 20th, just two days ago, was the Equinox – with a total solar eclipse and a new moon in Pisces on the same day. Astrologists’ explain that “we are being called to pause with reverence and tune in to the greater cosmic cycles that we are a part of.”
I feel this. There is a shift that is happening within me. I have been moving towards this for many months. But now I feel it has great speed. A shift to a higher vibration and a more authentic self. A shift as I honor the person I have been and the person I am becoming in this place of possibility and light. I feel my strong woman warrior. She lives within me. She speaks my truth in ways that are new and wondrous. But she is not the only one that lives within my walls. There are others, dark and full of pain that shudder my body, play havoc on my mind, break my spirit and torment my soul. They are - in order, Judgment, Confusion, Self-Doubt and Disconnect. – the demons that beckon me. I hear them call me, a collective orchestra of sadness and longing. And I lean to them for they are familiar and I am afraid to let them go. Judgment speaks in whispers. She nestles into me and kisses lightly upon my neck. She is familiar. For she has been with me since I was a girl. She sees in pieces. Just my breasts or only the back of my thighs. Fragments of the whole, isolated so that she can focus in to make me aware. She notices minute details that only I will suffer from. And she points them out to me rhythmically and cold. She sees the age from sun and time and does not let me remember the softness of my skin. She holds up that extra fold at the base of my belly and refuses to listen when I say that my babies were there. Her favorite phrase is not good enough and she sings it softly until I dance to this melody. And so I wrap my arms around Judgment and I hold her small body against my heart. For she was so very young when first she found her way to me and has not yet learned that it is ok. That we are not flawed but real. She cannot understand that the paths on my body are where I have been and have helped me to reach this place where I am now. Confusion speaks in tongues. He muddles my mind with different voices, different tones and keeps me guessing his intention. He does not let me focus. Just as I get a handle on where I am and what I am to do he throws another image into my mind and I turn. Forgetting where I just was and not quite sure where to go to next. He mocks my intellect – it cannot save you, he says – and fights me when I calm myself and then can see what is true. And when by chance I find that I am clear for just that moment, he sits back and laughs for He will have another day to play these games with me. I tell Confusion I admire him and compliment him his sense of humor and cynical edge. I laugh along with him and my mind joins too, in this banter of wills. For Confusion challenges me to expand each day. To learn new ways to process and proceed. And this I thank him for. Self-Doubt speaks in rhyme. She knows that soon in time. She will break down self. Compare to someone else. Her goal is to destroy. The things that give true joy. She inhabits many places. Darkens all my spaces. Till light can not get through. And days are not born new. Judgment is her friend. Together they do blend. I ask Self-Doubt to join with me in loving Judgment truly. I tell her that compassion and kindness for this younger version of herself will heal her own deep pain as well. I sit and watch her pull back, a step away from where I am. And I send her words of daily affirmation. Over, and over again. A mantra of wellbeing and peacefulness, that someday will heal her, too. Disconnect will not speak to me. But I know she is there. She isolates me from those around me and from my higher self. I know she questions my beliefs and the strength of my convictions for I feel her twist away from the goodness that I seek. And when I turn to embrace my truths she drapes thick cloth over my eyes and wraps tight rope around my heart. She sees my tears and forces me to wipe them dry and close my door to those that will care for me. She does not let my boundaries down. For she wants me to be - not a part of the great whole - but by myself, alone. And so with Disconnect I sit in wordless meditation. I call from deep within myself that collective wisdom I call spirit. I sing in silence, that only she can hear, of the songs of dirt and sky. I breathe deeply the morning air and pass it into her so that she may too feel the coolness of my breath and the wonder of this day. And I promise to nestle her in close as this world unfolds for me so that she will know that being part of this greater place is good and right and is what is. And so I wake each day. The ever, stronger woman warrior. So, I am at a friend’s home for dinner and another guest at the party basically got her panties in a bunch when she heard that my puppy, who is coming home next week and is just so friggin’ delicious, is getting her ears cropped at the end of this week.
Our host introduced us, explained that I am getting a puppy and that the other guest is a holistic vet. The conversation went something like this: Her: Oh, a rescue? Me: No, I am getting a Doberman from a breeder. Her: (Scowl) I see… Me: Yes, I am very excited about getting her next week after she has her ears done. Her: (Scowl) Oh, you are doing her ears. (Scowl, scorn, judgment) From there she basically told me what a terrible thing I was doing and what a terrible person I am. Now, anyone who knows me knows two things about me when in comes to (1) me and my dogs and (2) me and someone getting in my face. (1) I am a great dog owner. I know this. My dogs know this. Other dogs know this. I have a friend who said that in her next life she wants to come back as one of my dogs. And (2) If you get in my face about something, chances are that I will NOT BACK DOWN. That fight or flight instinct. I am so on the fight end of that spectrum in an instant. What I wanted to say to her was take your righteous, judgmental opinion and shove it. But I was very calm and very not up into her face in return because, unlike her, I am polite and act appropriately as a guest in someone else’s home. Though I did ask her a few times if she really wanted get in an argument with me… The conversation continued with her telling me that docking and cropping are an unnecessary surgery and with me explaining that I understand that she may feel this way but that it was very important for me to purchase my puppy from this particular breeder. You see, Doberman’s have a heart condition that is extremely prevalent in the breed because of many irresponsible breeding practices. We lost our Doberman, Mac, when he was young because of heart failure. Finding a breeder who was so committed to healthy dogs that could share a long life with me is a wonderful thing. I attempted to explain the fact that the lineage and health records of my puppy’s parents and grandparents are so good and that this is the number one factor in my picking this particular breeder, who dock and crop their litter. Further, I have researched this extensively. And I tried to share the history of the breed and the reason for the docking and cropping. She would not listen. She rolled her eyes, her scowl now a permanent expression on her face and discounted everything I said. Docking and cropping were purely aesthetic, she stated. I was cruel and she was right and there was no discussion to be had. The conversation ended when she walked away. Now, before you solidify your own thoughts on this touchy subject, here are some really important facts: The Doberman’s docked tail and the cropped ears are historically VERY FUNCTIONAL in origin and serve important purposes as an elite protective breed. (History of the Doberman) 1. A docked tail was an important characteristic of the Doberman because the tail represents a "body part" that can be easily and readily injured. The tail serves as a handle that an attacker could grab and injure which could cause the dog to experience pain and trauma and cause him to abandon his job of protecting his owner. So docking is a functional part of the Dobermans effectiveness as a family protector. 2. There are two primary reasons Doberman ears are cropped, and both have to do with FUNCTION. The first is that a neatly cropped ear is less of a "handle" for an attacker to hang on to. Since the Doberman has been bred to be a personal protector, a cropped ear gives the dog a decided advantage in a confrontation with a perpetrator. The second has to do with sound "localization". An erect earred dog can localize the source of a sound to within a 5 degree cone, whereas a drop earred dog can only localize a sound source to within a 20 degree cone. Since Dobermans do SEARCH AND DETECTION as well as SEARCH AND RESCUE, cropped ears are a decided advantage. Further, docking and cropping are less invasive and painful a procedure than spaying or neutering. Most reputable Doberman Breeders will suggest that not neutering your dog is the best thing for them if you are able to ensure that the dog will not roam and become a parent unless you specifically want grandpups. Spaying is major surgery, changes the growth of the dog and may likely change their behavior as well. If you have spayed or neutered your dog, don’t talk to me about my cropping and docking mine. Trust me, as I said above, I have given this an incredible amount of thought and have done a lot of research and spoke to a lot of people, including veterinarians, breeders, Doberman owners and other dog owners. And I considered what I believe is right for my dog. My Dog. And I took into consideration that I am getting her because she is a protective breed. Because when I go hiking or I am alone I have a dog that will look out for me. And I took into consideration that I love the look of the breed. Doberman’s are beautiful. I love the look of their strong ears and focused presence. And I want others to respect my dog for the protective, instinctive, focused breed that she is. I want her to look like a Doberman, because that is what she is. Ok, so you heard my story, you read the facts, you know my feelings. But just in case you are not 100% sure where I stand, I’ve written a little ditty on the subject. Feel free to sing along. (Sung to the tune of “It’s My Party” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsYJyVEUaC4 ) It's my puppy, and I'll crop if I want to Crop if I want to, crop if I want to You may crop, too, many dog owners do. I’m buying my dog from a breeder I trust I looked for her far and wide A breeder where health was the plan My dog will have years by my side. It's my puppy, and I'll crop if I want to Crop if I want to, crop if I want to You may crop, too, many dog owners do. I thought long and hard and considered the facts I know the decision I make Your judgment of what I do I do not ap-pre-ci-ate. It's my puppy, and I'll crop if I want to Crop if I want to, crop if I want to You may crop, too, many dog owners do. So if you feel you have something to say You’d best keep in inside My choice is right for my dog And I’ll walk her with pride. It's my puppy, and I'll crop if I want to Crop if I want to, crop if I want to You may crop, too, many dog owners do. The change. It is changing all the time. So fast sometimes that it's hard to keep up.
When this whole change thing started I became really forgetful. Now I have always moved quickly from subject to subject. My children have said that I have the attention span of a squirrel. But I was still able to remember everything. My brain held my to-do list, and my kid’s to-do list and my husband’s and everyone’s phone number and what you wore the last time I saw you. And then the change hit and though I continued to jump around in my thoughts I also became really scatterbrained and forgetful. Which just sucked. But now I am back again, remembering more. And so can get back to the other thoughts whereas before I could not. And I am beginning to have quiet mind. Which I obviously do not have right at this moment. But which I am beginning to have more and more in my life, too. The many moods of menopause are shifting to become one constant, and much more calm mood. And this is a great thing. It hasn't happened completely that my mind is calm and quiet. It isn’t happening today. Definitely not today. But more and more lately. I am becoming that calm woman. Calm and serene and balanced. I've got my groove on and I am fine. And then this internal heat rises up out of me, like the phoenix rising - sorry I could not help myself. This internal heat, it overtakes me and I NEED TO TAKE MY CLOTHES OFF. When all this menopause stuff started happening this internal inferno was only a nighttime occurrence. This is not the case anymore. I get these now. At night and in the day. Both. Not as bad as I have seen. I don't have sweat poring down my face as the heat overtakes me but I certainly get hot. As in get this fucking sweater off me hot. And I use this as the example because I am sitting here writing in this great sweater that I have taken off and put on and taken off and put on like a gazillion times in the space of not so much time. Because it is chilly out. And so I am cold. And then I am hot. Like burning hot. Like phoenix rising hot. And then cold again. And hot. You get the idea. And this got me thinking, as things like this do. That this is hot. My being hot. It is hot like sexy hot. I am constantly taking off my clothes. Whether I am alone or in public, when that heat rises out of me I am taking things off. And I am thinking about taking off my clothes all the time. When I decide what to wear I keep in mind that they have to come off. Easily. And Quickly. Because when that hot bird starts rising from my core, I need to let her OUT. And so I think about what clothes come off easily. And I take them off quite often these days. So, whether you are a woman also going through this like I am, or someone watching this happen, put this filter on and check this out and see this menopausal phoenix rising hot flash thing not as a burden to bare on the road to wise womanhood, but as a sexy fine piece of ass taking her clothes off kind of thing. See, it’s all really a matter of perspective. So I'm listening to a friend tell me about another friend and blah blah blah…blah blah, it's the same old story again about how she had a hard life and it was never fair and no matter what she did she attracted that guy who broke her heart and she will always be alone and you get the point, right.
And that got me thinking, as most things do, of what really was going on here, with this person that I don't even know and - though I feel compassion for her because I don't like anyone to be that hopeless - truly do not want to know. Just hearing about her through another person was enough for me. I could not sit for more than a second to hear that shit first hand. Because you see, her story, it's exhausting. And it's not real. Not in the way that she is choosing to live in it. Sure it happened. That guy. He was probably exactly the dick that she says he was. As were all the other dicks that she ended up attracting over and over again. And here is why (at least here is why I think it's why). Because that is exactly what she is putting out into the world. This story that her life sucks and has always been hard and she only attracts these losers (who, I am thinking may not be losers but their loser-ness comes out in full force around her). And this got me thinking about all the shit we all deal with and how I have written about some of it. And how it's really our own shit and so we need to own it. And I thought I would revisit this theme today with a few more thoughts on the subject. Now, this is my opinion. It may not be yours. That is ok. My opinions are mine and yours are yours. So leave a comment, share with me your thoughts. Disagree. Let’s have a vital and true conversation. I love the dialog. I truly do. Ok. So, first thought: get over your story. Truly. Move on. It's only bringing you down. I know that life was hard and your dad/mom/siblings/classmates hated you and you never felt accepted or understood or respected. It sucks. I get it. I also have stuff that sucks. And I can revisit my sucky stuff really easily, too. I can sit in these stories of mine and they just wrap around me in just that way that feels like home. Like an old blanket that feels warm and worn and so familiar to me. But this blanket of familiar stories, it’s not really wrapping around me. This blanket is holding me down. And keeping me reliving this shit over and over again. But I have the power to change my stories. This blanket is only as strong as the weight that I give it. Now, you may not want to change your story. And that is really ok with me. That familiar wrapping around you, that feels so good because it feels so familiar but that is really a holding you down, if you want to stay there that is fine. But understand that it's your choice. I am not saying don't honor your life and feel compassion and love for yourself and for all the struggles and sadness and loss and frustration that you lived through. We are who we are because of the lives that we have led. And so we need to honor our stories. But then, if they don’t serve you, let that shit go. And so it is hard for me to hear other people's stories. It is hard because it is the same story over and over again. Same story. Different face. Different circumstances. Different abuses and frustrations and tragedies. But the same. Because really, it’s over and done and gone and all you’re really doing is sending out your sad story, and having it keep replaying for you. Which is really sad because there is a whole world of opportunity and life and loving to do. So send that out into the world. Send out possibilities. Send out love and light and goodness. Send out feeling fine. Send out joy and opportunity. And that is what you will get. That's how it works. At least, that is how I think it works. Because that is how it works for me. Ok, second thought: change your filter and change how you see things. It's kinda like the stories we have about ourselves. The way we see others, that is our story, too. And just as we can change our own stories of our own lives we can change the stories we have about each other. We can choose to see each other in the light that best serves them and best serves us. I am not saying that you should pretend that someone is different than they are. And I am not saying that you should make anything up. What I am saying is that you can choose to see through a lens that looks at the things without your own emotional baggage and stories about how they are. You can see things clearer if you switch out the glasses that hold the stories you have about someone or something and instead see things with a clearer lens. You can choose to see someone with compassion instead of annoyance. You can decide to see them with a lens of love instead of judgment. And perhaps you will get to see that is extraordinary that these people hold for you rather than getting stuck in the muck that bogs you down when you pay attention to the things that you don’t like about someone. And then you won’t miss their wonderful spirit and all the beautiful ways they can contribute to your life while you contribute to theirs. So…change your story. Change your lens. Get out of your own way. There's so much to do. I, for one, don't want to miss anything by staying stuck in a story that brings me down and keeps me away from the life I can have with the people that I know. I don't want to miss who I can be and I don't want to miss who you can be. And I absolutely don't want you to miss any of it, too. |
Elizabeth RoseMother, Wife, Friend, Sister, Daughter, Dancer, Rower, Runner, Dog and Cat lover. Archives
December 2024
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