Nick showed me a picture of a beautiful car on his phone.
“Hesitation is the hallmark of mediocrity,” I said, mostly in jest.
(I looked up where I found this quote and realized I’d paraphrased something Elizabeth Benton had written in her book, Chasing Cupcakes. She’d actually said it was the ‘cornerstone of mediocrity’)
We had been talking about buying a car for months. Currently, we have his pickup truck and my Honda Element (aka ‘dog car’). Both are getting up there in mileage, and both are beloved. He uses the truck daily to take care of our little ‘farm’ and also our two rental properties. It’s finally paid off, so now our hope is that it will go for another 100K miles for ‘free.’
A ferocious storm barreled through our valley this morning at 4:30. I woke to lightning flashing, thunder cracking, and rain pummeling the windows on the west side of the house.
Below the windows on that end of our bedroom, Otis was circling in his crate, banging into its sides in a panic. Fanny leaped up from where she was sleeping at my feet.
I jumped out of bed and let Otis out of the crate (he ran downstairs to his favorite spot on the couch and went back to sleep). As Fanny and I followed him down, I remembered that I’d opened a window above my desk in the cottage last night. It was warmer outside than inside, and I thought Diamond, my foster dog, would enjoy the warmer air and smells of the night. I love that view out the window above my desk to the west to the Alleghany mountains.
Now, my desk, computer, printer, notebooks, planner, and everything on my desk were soaked. I let Diamond out of her crate. She was excited to see me and danced through the puddles on the floor, immediately tracking water all over the rest of the room and up onto the futon where she settled with a bone to watch me frantically try to dry things. The only positive about the whole situation is it forced me to finally ‘mop’ the floor that was coated in a film of dust, dirt, and dog hair.
What a way to start the day.
After I made tea, did my yoga routine that is (for now) fending off the back problems that are coming for me (both parents and both brothers have had back surgery), I settled on the couch with Fanny and Otis, with Gracie farting at my feet. Every morning, I spend at least an hour, often two if I’m up early, like today, reading and journaling.
One of the books I’m reading is a memoir written by a celebrity dancer whose husband (also a celebrity dancer) committed suicide. It was free on Kindle Unlimited, and so far, it mostly felt like reading an article in People magazine (it might have been ghostwritten by a regular at People). I was almost ready to quit the book because I was disappointed in the lack of authenticity, vulnerability, or risk expected in a grief memoir. But then the author shared an exercise she used daily to motivate herself.
Each day, she wrote the phrases, “I am….”, “I have…”, and “I deserve….” And then finished them.
I pulled out my journal and started to answer those same questions. I’d been looking for a way to examine the uncertain feelings I’ve had of late about the world, what I do, my purpose here, really all of our purposes here. But those phrases and my answers left me only asking myself, “So what?”
What ‘I am’ is still a work in progress, and what ‘I have’ is unimportant. The “I deserve…” question made me angry. I’m tired of everyone, everywhere, thinking they deserve more than they receive. In some cases, maybe it’s true, but in too many, mine included, it’s blatant entitlement.
What do we deserve? Food, water, medical care, safety? Maybe. But people choose food that makes them ill and don’t want to pay for medical care, even when they can afford it.
What about love? Respect? Truth? But do we deserve these if we don’t give them in turn?
What do we deserve?
I’ve thought about that all morning. I think we all deserve the basic freedoms of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But do we still deserve those if our use of them hurts others or deprives them of those same basic rights?
Deep questions for a rainy, turbulent morning with more storms coming.
I looked at my precious, adored, spoiled dogs snuggled all around me. Do they deserve the care we give them? Most of the people in my world would resoundingly say, “Yes!” and agree that we made dogs dependent on us, so they deserve to be cared for.
Like every other essay I’ve started this week, I’m unsure where to take this one. Maybe because I don’t have the answers. My present uncertainty in so many areas is rooted in the fact that all that I believed about people, the way people should care for each other, that respect I think all human (and canine) life deserves, has been called into question in this country, and all over the world.
Why do we hurt each other?
I have always believed in our better nature. That, at their base, most people are good. I will cling to that belief, even as the news makes me not so certain anymore. We have to take care of more than ourselves. What’s the point of any of this if we don’t?
What do people deserve?
Maybe they don’t deserve our love, and maybe granting our respect is asking too much. Unalienable rights aside, though, I believe they deserve our kindness, our time, our thoughtful consideration of who they are, and the acknowledgment of the unknown battles they are certainly fighting.
Maybe instead of pondering our answers to “I am,” “I have,” and “I deserve,” we should finish the phrase, “I will…”
I will look for ways to spread light instead of darkness.
If you’re curious about what else I’m up to, check out my website, CaraWrites.com.
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If you’re a dog lover, check out my other blog, Another Good Dog. And if you want to know what is really happening in the animal shelters in this country, visit, Who Will Let the Dogs Out, and subscribe to the blog I write there.
My latest novel, Blind Turn is a mother-daughter story of forgiveness in the aftermath of a fatal texting and driving accident. It won the Womens Fiction category of the American Writing Awards. Learn more about it and find out how to get your copy here.
This is a sticky note I have pasted to the top of my computer screen. I try to focus on it when I’m on zoom calls or when I read something on social media and feel the irrational urge to SCREAM AT PEOPLE (or cry).
This morning, something magical happened. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was a sign. Or maybe it was a message. I’m still not certain exactly what it was. Nick thinks it was evidence of a husband I have in an alternate reality.
There is a tiny thrill in checking things off my list.
I draw little boxes next to each item and then make a check mark (with my red pen) when I get them done. Whatever I don’t get to, but I need to, I circle in blue. Whatever I don’t get to and probably don’t really have to (but I thought I should do when I wrote the list), or now it’s too late to do, I cross off with black pen. Anal, much? Here’s what it looks like in real time:
The cows are crying. (not a sentence I ever imagined writing)
A few times a year, our little street echoes with the bellows and moans and outright wails of distressed cows. This means that one of our farmer neighbors has separated the mamas and babies, presumably so that the babies can go to be auctioned.
The sounds of the cows are heartbreaking. I doubt they know that their babies are likely destined for a slaughterhouse, but change on any level is hard.
I’m sure you will think this has nothing to do with being a better writer, but I will argue that point. In fact, I will argue that it not only will improve your writing, it will improve your quality of life.
It’s nothing new. You already know it. You’ve heard it before. It’s common sense. The problem is it’s not common practice.
Here it is (my version): get enough sleep for your body.
For years, I strived for at least eight hours of sleep. And even though I often woke up at five or even earlier, I stayed in bed and tried to sleep longer, knowing that I would be healthier, happier if I did. It more or less worked for me, but I was young and adaptable.
Who wants more energy, more sleep, and to feel happier and calmer? What if I told you I know a secret power that will give you that? Read on, friend, and don’t doubt me.
I’m a big believer in intentionality. I don’t think progress or success or even happiness come without being intentional.
The group on Facebook (you can join too – click here) provides not just encouragement and inspiration, but accountability too.
To recap, in case you missed it: I challenged people to consider getting rid of a set number of things in your life every day for a year. I committed to getting rid of five things, but everyone can pick their number and some in the group chose to pick a number for each week. We’re flexible and friendly, so don’t be intimidated.
Initially, I thought the ‘things’ I would be getting rid of would be tangible items – all the crap cluttering my closets, house, office, barn, car, etc., but the group has definitely expanded that idea. Some people are clearing out their computer files, the pictures on their phones, attitudes that restrict them, rules that bind, even people that drag down their souls.
My Life in Paragraphs 