It’s snowing again, big fluffy flakes floating down. Looks like winter is here to stay. I don’t mind. I’m not going anywhere. I’m warm and well fed. I have all the comforts right here at home. I can just hunker down and wait for spring. In the meantime, I can enjoy my cup of tea, a somewhat dried though good cinnamon bun and a bit of cheese. I’ll see if I can tap out 500 words again. Was yesterday just a fluke?
Ah, Sheba is starting again – barking. She’s like an alarm clock. I’ve made her do a ‘down’ but it lasted only a minute. At least she’s quiet. Now if she would stop nuzzling me for her food. We still have half an hour to go. I will see how strong my will is versus hers. Will – that has been a problem for me. I give in too easily. I give in to the guilt of being responsible for everyone’s happiness. I’ve been told that I am not that powerful, that I can’t make everyone happy. Nevertheless, it is difficult to shrug off. I’ve worn that duty call for a long time.
It has been too long wearing that cloak. It’s heavy and weighing me down. I am starting to ask, Hey what about me? It helps. It reminds me that I have been standing and living alone for many years. I have been my own keeper and comforter. Not that I am complaining. It has made me strong and resourceful, seeking my own solutions, finding my own way. I’ve listened to others while seldom heeding my own cries. I feel that I am that one hand that is clapping. And not a sound can be heard.
That is why I love the tap, tap of my keyboard. I can hear myself talking as I watch the letters and words march across the screen. My sorrows and joys are heard. They resound in that heartspace, as Mattie Stepanek would call it. I am listening to me. I am heard. I do matter. I am that stone sending ripples through oceans and the universe – as you are, too.
It is 3:00 pm, that bewitching supper hour for Sheba. I do have the will. Sheba does, too. I have overcome the guilt that I’m making her suffer by waiting. She is not suffering. She can wait. She is a Lab. She always want to eat if I let her. Now that she’s fed, she’s noisily squeaking her rubber chicken and fussing for her walk.
We’ve been for our walk and back. It’s good to move, change my posture, change my space and be in nature. Much easier to go earlier than later. Do the hard stuff first. Then there is no guilt in putting my feet up. The day is done. We’ve trudged through heavy wet snow and shovelled the same. My must-dos along with a few may-dos are crossed out on the to do list.
- Get up, dress up and show up
- Post for Navigating Through November on Instagram
- Make yogurt
The rest of the evening is gravy as they say. Wine, anyone?