Willow: Luxuriates in the freedom to be an open book.
Willow accompanies me in the car on my daily trips to the post office, and most of the time Hank, too, if he feels up to having his tired bones lifted and loaded. But Morgie is another story. She does not cotton to getting into the car.
Hank: Oblivious that he's 98 in dog years and living it up.
When I found her, she was lounging on the roadside, awaiting her pick-up. Dogs hanging about in this neighborhood, though, come in on a one-way ticket only. I would have to be her next best thing.
I decided to haul her slinky rump up into the cargo area today with Willow, just to see if she'd be open. It crossed my mind that every dog I know has loved to Go For a Ride, so perhaps her trust was so disrupted by being abandoned that it will take a bit of time to show her that it will always be a round-trip with me. Soon enough, she got sucked in by the hype and hung her head out the window, and barked at a few passersby. She seemed proud when we arrived back at the gate, and even moreso as the beneficiary of treats and praise to the tune of, "Who's my brave girl?? Who? You are! You are!" and more dog-loving talk that would cost most of you a headache in eyerolling.
By the way she behaves each time I open the hatch, I don't know if she would have ever gone for it without the firm nudge. Too scary, too hurtful- the abandonment wired in her so completely that she did not have any interest in following the lemmings over the edge, even though each day they return tongue-wagging, kings and queens of the road.
All afternoon and into this evening I've been thinking about how our experiences wire us. We can begin to expect a certain failure each time we set out to:
*try something risky
*name our dream
*fall in love again
*move to a new location
*outgrow a behavior
Sometimes that wiring leads me straight, but most of the time it doesn't. It's just a set up to get pulled asunder by unconscious paranoia.
I studied Morgan's apprehension and fear, recognizing that I had to force her to try this, asking her to betray her right instinct, in order to allow it to transform and create a new bond between us, and a new joy for her.
Taking a risk and overcoming doubt takes courage. Beginning again, as so many of us do in so many ways, can either be colored by fear or it can be a rainbow of possibility.
I've been practicing laying down my sword and embracing a transformation back to divine feminine ways, and that has come with a lot of resistance. What I often want to do is slice my way through every obstacle that stands in my way, but instead I am asking myself to sit in a place of patience and reflection in order to honor the re-wiring process that wants to occur without pushing it. There are days when it's easy to do and others in which I become absorbed by workaholism, riding the caffeine train, and brandishing my sword around above my head like Joan of Arc.
The lesson here for me is again about trust. Trust that I will find my way, even when I'm smackdab in the middle of taking risks. Trust that the answers are contained within me waiting for the right moments for light to rain down and release them. Trust that I am protected, if only by my own teeth and fur, and my willingness to explore deeply, in order to unearth the truth.
Morgan: Cautious, yet curious and open to love again.
