Got up today at around the usual 10:30 am
or later time. Had breakkie. Prepped the large pot for cucumber starts.
Came back into the house. Sat here on the low kitchen bench and burst
into tears, feeling lonely and alone. I am fine with being alone, but not lonely. Up until last June 3rd, for 13 years, 7 months and 21 days, Kaia,
my canine companion shared this place space. Before Kaia, there was Reggie, for 7 years. We ran, walked, talked, lived in union.
The words, creative projects, garden and other stuff have filled those canine empty zones.
I have just now experienced the need of another’s beating heart to to to do/be more in sync.
Looking back on a life of memories, wondrous and not so, in other cultures and lands, here I sit, wallowing in a tear puddle.
It is not about getting another canine companion, as friends suggest, or maybe it is. More so, it is about being here now and do/be here as best I can, feeling into what is is.
If I needed to be near humanity before this virus time, I’d go to yoga, the gym, a dance, the market, always keeping distanced. Those distancing flurries have vaporized, so now it is me, me and me.
Writing is the tool that has opened my horizon beyond any realm this guy Fred has known. Right now I am smiling broadly and breathing deeply, reflecting on this open-ended writing place that carries this guy to outer limits. Maybe writing is just another tool of escaping the depths of life. Maybe it is a lantern on the dark road. Maybe a seemingly safe, but really not, place.
All I know right now is the sad feeling is gone. No more tears. Gotta get up and get on with the garden.