Perspective. Truth always remains the same because in everything there is only one truth, but perspective is fluid, constantly moving from one viewpoint to another.
There was nothing easy about letting Vision and Echo leave my home and sometimes the grey wind of doubt blows yet and it may always be so, but in those times I try to remember perspective. I remember how I learned to take what I considered a devastating event and turned it into a thing the girls happily anticipated, a new experience to be relished rather than dreaded. I use that to my advantage some days, to give me permission to enjoy life also when I am in that doubting energy.
“Oh look, I can plant some flowers over here now.” I tell myself.
Or, “I can leave for unlimited amounts of time if I want. And look how long my kitchen floor stays clean.”
I know what you’re thinking. You would rather have the dogs.
But they live with someone else now and so I must change my perspective, even if only a few degrees from tears because every little turn, no matter how small, brings me closer to peace….so flowers it is. If I want to grow grass in my yard after years of dirt, (I’m sure that is familiar to some of you) I think I will. It would be nice to mow without having to alert the neighborhood of the impending dust storm.
There is, of course, a never ending list of advantages of having a dog in my opinion. Some days I look at that, some days I don’t. Whichever perspective will serve me that day, I use. My family and some friends are concerned I will be lonesome and maybe that day will come, but it is not here today. I have had many dogs in my life, forty years worth, and they are still with me. Every one. I confess I hold some more dear than others, one in particular is so a part of me it was impossible for her to leave, only her lovely body is gone…she lays behind my chair when I write at my desk. I can hear her breathe, punctuated by an occasional nail scraping the wood floor and sometimes it is like she never left. But I love them all. The perfect one, the ones who tried to be and the ones that didn’t care if they were or not. They are all beautiful. Like Vision and Echo, they live in a different place but are still with me, always will be. Our dogs never really leave.
I’ve come to understand that I am not dogless, it’s just that my dogs don’t physically live in my house. I turn just a few more degrees.
And somehow, I find myself unable to understand how I had managed to ramble about the house for hours at a time in hopes of finding something to do. That is no longer the case.