The Light Went Out of Her Eyes...

Beka had a very fun weekend... she went to doggie day care and got to play with other dogs, including her new "boyfriend," Ace, a puppy near her age who became her #1 playmate.

And boy, was she worn out. She slept and slept and slept Sunday night after we brought her home. I've never seen her that zonked out, other than her brand new puppy stage or after her little operation - Beka 2.IT

Monday morning, back to "normal" - get dressed, gather stuff for the day ahead, then utter the words, "Beka, it's time to go bye-bye..." 

And the light goes out of her eyes. She lays down in her (my) chair, and has to be majorly bribed to go into her crate for the day. After a couple days of freedom, playing, hanging out with others of her kind, and being worn out from the sheer joy of it all, "normal" slams the door and throws away the key.

Vicki thinks she's just still tuckered out from her weekend of fun. I hope and pray that's the case, but I fear... I don't know what I'd do if I saw the light go out of Beka's eyes permanently, leaving her shuffling through the days, losing the joy and adventure she felt so keenly this weekend.

And I fear for me too...

I fear that the light has gone out of my eyes. That I've lost the joy and adventure of the past two years, shuffling through the days as "normal" slams the door and throws away the key.

Upon what do I base these depressing thoughts?

- I've gained 10 pounds.

- I've made junk food one of my major food groups. Now, anybody can go on junk food binges, but when I do, it throws up a HUGE red flag that I'm medicating with food.

- I'm consuming a staggering amount of carbs, which has the double bonus of packing on weight AND making me miserable on the "other end." In fact, Vicki has said she can't understand why I keep doing this to myself, when I know the discomfort it'll produce as an aftermath.

I don't know either.

- I work someplace where any of the aforementioned carbs or junk food is available without blinking an eye. Want to medicate with food? I work at the food addict's crack house.

(The above does not in ANY way say anything about the fine, fine establishment where I spend my days walking around trying to find my way and do something good in the process. It's my issues here, not the place I am...)

- I haven't been on my trike since the first week of August, I haven't been to Tai Chi in a year, and, by my reckoning, I haven't posted anything to this blog in a couple of months which means I haven't been writing, which means my mental plumbing is backed up so bad that Mr. Roto Rooter is saying, "Dude - I'm not touching that..."

- I've stopped believing and living my own story. The stones stand forgotten, neglected, ignored. Life is now a series of go here, do this, go there, do that, sleep, repeat. The discipline of mindfulness, the habit of awareness, the practices and routines that my new life requires have been left behind. Every day brings me a little closer to the life I thought was gone for good.

The old dead corpse still hangs around my neck, it reaches out to move my hands, to shape my actions, to cloud my vision - 

To take the light out of my eyes.

Ever notice how not all of the Psalms are happy-happy-praise-praise-praise? Ever read the stuff from David's "Blue Period?" (which nobody has ever called it, for the record...) Well, I'm in my blue period, I guess. And I haven't gotten to the place where I'm lifting up my eyes, I'm not looking to the hills, I'm not realizing where my help comes from. I'm just trying to get from this place to that place, to do this thing and then that thing. 

Steve, the mental hamster, has stuck me in his wheel, and it's going round and round. 

For Beka, I will fight and move and strive to make sure that we find ways to keep the light in her eyes, to give her the joy and adventure that her little puppy heart so needs.

For myself? I don't know...