Left Behind

maxresdefaultThe past few days have been a whirl. I came back from MITT, ( with swirling thoughts and desires, and the realization that I have lots of work to do emotionally. I went in expecting not much, and came back with a desire to love the world. It’s a feeling I had before in High School and College, and to some extent in law school, but now its come back renewed. I believe that if I am not improving myself, I am stagnating. If I am not moving, I am drowning.  Too often, I made excuses NOT to do something when instead when I was younger, my response was always yes. I don’t know when I changed. I don’t know when I left the old me behind. I miss him. The one who dove in. The one who took on challenges. The one who loved unconditionally. The one who knew what other needed or desired and worked on getting it for them. Do I  miss all of me? No. There is a lot of me I am glad is no longer there, but in the process I also lost some precious things so I commit to working on those. I need me. To those this all sounds like some mushy gooey “we are the world” type shit, I say so what? What does it matter as I long as I believe in it.

This past week. I watched others with new lenses, and in some, I saw how much pain I had caused them or was causing. It’s a wake up call. I can no longer afford to just complain or whine about how life is. It is my creation, and today I choose to create a better me.  I am scared shitless, but I also know if I don’t dive in, the old me will be lost forever, and that is not something I am willing to accept. I am a writer. I am a family man. I am in shape. I have great relationships with loved ones. That is my vision, and the old me could handle all that, so back to it I go.

Wish me progress, no wish me to be the way I used to be.


The Walk

DogWalkingSlightly gloomy morning. Eyes open automatically. Bella’s licks me upon seeing me. Time for her walk. For her, our morning routine is paramount. The WALK.  Nothing else matters to her at the moment. I envy that dedication. She won’t leave me alone until finally I grab the leash. Her palatable excitement at seeing me grab that thing always makes me smile. Most days, she will bite at the lease, as if to say “come on, come on.”  This walk is our time. The route is usually the same. I see the same houses, she pauses at the same grass to sniff, then hover over the grass and squeeze a few drops of pee.  A daily routine that would be boring to others, but for me, that time is MY time with Bella. The rest of the time she is my wifes.

I dont know when I decided to start walking Bella. It kinda grew out of concern that she wasn’t getting much exercise. I never realized how much would I enjoy this morning time. It became the time I got to watch her revel in what the day offered. As I prayed, I also found a sense that this just felt right. It fit. Are there days that I think I probably look ridiculous walking a white maltipoo in sweat pants and earphones on? Yes. Do I care? No. It’s become a time for me reflect about the prior day, relive conversations or think about my writing all the while taking in Bella’s utter happiness of being outside. We both do our own thing, but somehow it’s a shared experience. We both get something out of it, a pleasant surprise. One of the new times, I am not trying to achieve something, just being.

The best part is always at the end when I let her off the leash. She runs around in circles on our lawn, running so fast that it looks like hopping. She truly reminds me of rabbit at that moment. She runs a few times, looks at, dares me to chase her and when I do, she rushes back home, each step a bounce. Hers or mine? I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, the walk worked for both of us.