Saturday morning. Halfway through September. It is grey and cool. Suddenly summer seems over. I can feel the change in energy. I miss the heat now that it’s gone. The autumn brings its own gifts. I feel the urge to nest but also to renew. I should do my morning stretches. The tomatoes await to be sauced. So many other things begging to be tended to. But I will sit here for awhile with my words. It’s good to tap them out. How else can I right myself again? How else can I claim my equanimity and breathe again?

It’s not that there is so much wrong with me. I’m just being human, feeling that I’m in a bit of negative grey space though not total darkness. I did what I told myself not to do while suffering sleep deprivation – brain surgery. Well, it’s not actual brain surgery. You know what I mean – serious decision making stuff. I made the wrong decision whilst a voice inside was screaming No! That’s a lesson. Things can still happen even when we know better.

No harm was done. I repaired my mistake but it’s difficult not to beat myself over it. That, too, is me being human. I’m accepting my flawed nature and going through the paces. I’m seeing how the world is and learning. I’m getting better with practice. I might suffer some but I’m not grinding myself up. I’m leaving the greyness and heading towards the sunshine.

Yesterday while on my walk with Sheba, a lady called out from across the street, “You dropped something!” I fished in my pockets, thinking doggy bags or kleenx might have fallen out. No, they were all there. I looked behind us. Nothing. I must have looked as puzzled as I felt. She said, “Your dog poop.” I replied that Sheba had peed and that I was sorry but I cannot pick it up. I received no apology for her mistake. I felt the beginning of rage and cortisol rising. But I breathed, dropped it and walked on.



Sheba and I have suffered many such incidents. I wonder if it’s our combination – black dog, Chinese woman. Another time a truck stopped right in the middle of a street intersection. The window rolled down and a woman poked her head out. “Do you have a bag?” She asked. I was really puzzled. How does she know I have bags and why? Again I must have looked very puzzled. I am also very naive. She pointed to the park where we came from. That time I was very out of control angry. I screamed: “SHE PEED!” I shook my bags at her. The truck squealed off in a hurry.

The anger did me absolutely no good. Anger only does harm. Even its memory is harmful. I feel it as I’m tapping it out. I am dropping it now. I have that lady from yesterday to thank. I have to drop the poop.


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