Uncertainty

Uncertainty.  It is life in a nutshell.  There is only so much in our lives that we have complete control over.  As a yoga teacher I never know how many people will come to class, I never know if they like the sequence I created or the music I choose to play.   I joke sometimes to other teachers and to the people who work behind the desk that waiting for people to come in for a yoga class is similar to waiting at home on Halloween night for kids to ring your doorbell.  We often think if I do this, then this should happen.  But how much of the planning, the doing actually leads to what we thought should happen?   How often do we catch ourselves saying "I didn't see that coming." 

We are always in a transition.  One moment to the next.  Living, breathing, moving through our lives.  Maybe saying "I didn't see that coming" is comforting and provides a sense of steadiness that yes life has its ups and downs and twists and turns.  A turn in my life as of late is that our bloodhound Annie has melanoma.  She sleeps a lot which is pretty normal for most dogs and especially bloodhounds.  But there is a stillness about her when she sleeps now as if the next breath may not come.  She doesn't like to be loved on and that is really what we want to do to help her feel better or to just let her know we are there for her.  Annie's best friend Lucy our lab/chow mix constantly licks the space between Annie's eyebrows.  Which is either a signal that there is more cancer and/or it is Lucy's way of taking care of her as well.  Annie at times can't get comfortable when she lays her 120 pound body down.   She will move back and forth between a bed, a dog bed, and the floor.  When she does finally find "the spot" she will stay there for hours.  I watch her and wonder how will Lucy get along without her best friend.  She is my husband's favorite dog.  I gave her to him as a gift.  I watch her and know that my husband will be heartbroken when she dies. 

I try to hold the tears back.  A lesson I learned about holding tears back on December 14th the afternoon of the Newtown shootings was to not hold the tears back.  Crying helped me acknowledge what had happened and to let my heart feel pain and compassion and empathy for anyone who was affected by that senseless day.  Cancer does not make sense.  Annie is a huge part of our family.  And not just because she is a huge dog.  Bloodhounds are like cats they pick and choose when they want you in their lives and with 5 other dogs in our house her aloofness kept me from having a deep connection to her.  Because of the cancer and our numerous vet visits together,  Annie and I have finally developed a relationship.  From uncertainty to certainty simply by being together.