(B + dimple + The question was: Is your wife the #1 or #2 most beautiful and intelligent human you have ever met or laid eyes on? Either that or "in a minute." )
On the best sleep ever & the philosophy of dogs: I slept fabulously warm and peaceful last night. Moses very much wanted to stay up to watch the Inaugural balls on cnn.com, so I let him sleep with us; usually, he's kenneled at night, as he's not to be trusted. All of our animals slept with us last night. It is was very warm.
Moses has somehow beat Preston in cuddly-naturedness; however, Preston remains my favorite to sit with, to sleep by as far as the animals go. He feels more like a friend.
Is there something different about large dogs? We love all of our pets very much, but to us, Preston seems like a person. The little dogs seem like wonderful little dogs. In spite of this difference in "humanness," or maybe because of it, I have to say that the little dogs do seem much more 'present." Especially Sam. Sam is always in the moment. This is not so with Preston, in whose face I swear I can see worry, eager anticipation, and cognition. Sometimes premeditation. Read: When they leave, I will turn over the trash can. But not until they leave.
Intriguing + even paradoxical how that added sense of humanity seems to steal from presence; or is it that at higher levels of consciousness, we must choose our presence? Does the element of conscious choice make it better, deeper, richer?
On the horrific aromas of youknowwhat: Speaking of deeper: The down side of his cuddly nature is that Moses frequently smells like ####. We've been wondering, what would make something so small evoke such horrific aromas out of both ends?
Intrigued, B went all Inspector Gadget & began scoping out his backyard manners. And before I tell you this, just don't judge me. I mean, we've been busy. We have a ton of er, leaves that we have never ever raked, piling (exponentially) against the back fence.
Leaf pile? Turns out, not just leaves. To Moses, a gold mine. If gold is ####.*
Oh. My. God.
On the splendor of morning & the travails of a failed perfectionist: On a brighter note, I'm writing this in the morning which means I'm in good spirits. Morning is a wonderful time of day for me; it is when I feel most peaceful and centered. I'm hoping to get back to waking up (and getting up) at 4:30 so that I can have as much morning as possible before I'm off to the light of day.
Today, I actually rolled out of bed at 5-ish, slightly lethargic from staying up to watch Inaugural stuff. (Fighting urge to go to DC + hand out Red Bulls to the Obamas.)
As usual, B and I did a little meditating and reading. We read a passage from Eckhart Tolle about ego. This was good for me, because my attitude about work has been rather anxious. I don't believe it has anything to do with my work as much as me being VERY unbalanced toward work. I've been trying to balance, and in many important ways I have. It can be extremely difficult for me to keep work in perspective; it is my Achille's heel, partly because of the love of what I do making it so easy for what I do to become ALL I do or think about.
When it comes to flow-inducing states such as this (work, school), my perfectionist side kicks into full, all-or-nothing gear. It is difficult for me to say, "It's fine like this." And then leave it. Leave it. Step away. Do something else. Live your life. I find this counter-intuitive to the degree that when I'm working on it, I tend to have escape fantasies of being a stay at home dog-mom. They tell me this isn't a real job.
*Flash-back to very unfortunate face lick.
