Being Fine

So I took Molly to the vet because she had a little limp.  The vet, a very experienced and wonderful guy by the way, did not want to do a biopsy, so as not to disturb what was likely to be a tumor, but we made a date to have it removed and biopsied at that time.  When he started the surgery, the whole thing went sideways, as the tumor began to explosively bleed.  They had a hard time stabilizing Molly so that I could drive her to a bigger, emergency veterinary place.  Then we had to choose, and this was very dicey, protracted and unclear as we went through it at the time, whether to put her down or take off her leg.  

We took off her leg.  Meantime, Bill was sick at home and also my knee went out, ironically, in the corresponding place to Molly’s problems, so that gave me the opportunity to sit around, worry about Molly, listen to Bill have trouble breathing, look up stuff about the election on the internet and think about death.

After a few days of this I began to realize that this was possibly not the most helpful approach to our situation. So I hopped around and put up some Christmas ornaments.  I also began to explore what I have begun to explore a lot lately, which is the answer to this question:  What does it for me?  I mean, what really works, and I’m sorry but there is no other way to put this, when things start to suck the way they have been sucking lately?

I realized I had to accept the worst thing that could happen to Molly, and I began to do that.  And then I worked on my pictures a little.  And this is the thing I want to say.  It is not the pictures themselves that help me the most, but it is what they imply.  They point to completeness and coherence in nature and to completeness and coherence in life in general.  There’s a way I get to feel it, a way it lives in my body.  Then I can know some light or joy or energy in being, not because of anything that is happening or not happening at the moment, just in being itself.  That’s what helps me sometimes, and even when it doesn’t help, I mean, even when I can’t feel it, I can still remember.

The biopsy results came back and it turns out the decision to take Molly’s leg was a good one.  It is the only thing that could possibly prevent the recurrence of the cancer and she has a reasonable chance.  And she is doing well.  She has a new red sweater to keep her warm where they shaved her for the operation.  Her beautiful eyes are clear and bright. The other day, she chased after another dog, actually ran, forgetting about her missing leg until she suddenly tipped over, but yesterday when she did the same thing again, she stayed upright.  She is getting homemade, organic, grass-fed, high-protein food, with special supplements, and why not?  And Bill is better and I am better.  And Molly loves to rest her head on Bill’s shoulder and gaze into his eyes.  So my dog and my husband are having an affair, and this is alright with me.  And our friend Rich and Kevin and Emily and their families are coming for the holidays. 

So my heart is sending this wish to your heart.  May you feel some energy and wholeness of being through the holidays and in the coming year, and may this carry you and give you some joy.