Highlights: Jen's early rise allows me to do the same, and I did. I was back in the seat ("on the zafu") at the start of online zazen, using the silence to continue my daily reading and writing practice. It worked well. Lauren reached out to let us know that AMD and Intel stock were on the rise, that her inheritance had profited from high-risk investments, and that she'd spent 30 minutes on a call with the admin of her portfolio making proactive decisions regarding long-term strategy. So cool. So proud. This morning, I continued giving lucky microdoses of gabapentin for anxiety. I did a good amount of research, and so far, he seems to be responding well. It has taken the edge off them to the moderate point of him being more contained at the sight of another dog while still having the impulse-driven instinct to pull at the Leash relentlessly. I spent the afternoon sorting through and researching the value of some of the lingering items left in the garage that her sisters had not wanted. I have started moving forward on this long-overdue task and will continue this week and into next if needed. Progress feeds momentum. Cards tonight was fun as always. Steve and Diana will be in Carmel for the entire month of February. I reached out to catch up with Matt (C) and enjoyed an hour-long exploration of ailments and reminiscence. We're a few years away from sitting on a park bench like bookends, exchanging obituary clippings and having to loudly repeat ourselves. Lauren told Jen she will be coming down tonight instead of tomorrow morning for her trip to Rush Creek with Tommy. I wrestle with the impulse to micro-manage things, and if she really feels confident and ready to drive at night, I want to trust her judgment.
Insights: For someone fixated on the comfort of ritual and the benefits of habits, having the aspiration to step outside my comfort zone seems more challenging. It is. Yet it feels like an instance or time wherein it is necessary and inevitable. If I don't jump, I will be pushed. I think it also aligns with this newfound desire to clean and clear a lot of "stuff" taking up space. Maybe, to a degree, what I hold onto holds me back. Maybe. There are absolutes I would never part with, and then there is the rest. On a somewhat related note, I broke from my routine of food bowl placement when giving Lucky something. I put it where Scottie's used to be. Lucky stood back, uncertain of what to do. He did not go to the food. He clearly remembered that it was not his "seat", but his brother's. It brought tears to my eyes. I encouraged and convinced him that it was ok, while being swept up in my own sense of loss at the cost of my joy at having had the experience at all. While writing this just now, I discussed it with Jen, and she shared the concept of a "waiting room" from a podcast. I had said to her a day or two ago that we were not living our lives working towards something-we are already in it. It is all happening. Even the dull routines alongside the anticipated decline of my mom, the grief of losing the dog, the joy of Lauren's increasing visits as she gets back behind the wheel in both literal and metaphorical ways, Tommy seeming to engage in a relationship that may play a role in his own growth. This is no waiting room. Life is happening.