do you know that i have done a reiki session for myself every single day for over three years?

i've been thinking about this lately because i've been thinking about my reiki offer (a way to help you pause and refill your well using reiki).

occasionally, i feel moved to mention the offer. otherwise, i trust that the right people for the offer will find their way there when the time is right. that is how i found my way to everything that has been helpful to me, including reiki, and it is the way that feels right for my offer.

at the same time, i often shy away from mentioning the offer even when i feel moved to do so. it turns out that there are reasons for this.

one reason is that i very much do not want to try to convince anyone to try reiki. i went through my dark night of the soul, as it were, as part of my experience with reiki. while it was worth it to be here in this place, i would not wish the hard of that on anyone.

that's why i've been thinking about my daily reiki sessions. it occurred to me that my experience was different; it did not involve the occasional session. i tried reiki and then took the first class and then the second class and then the master class. i have done a reiki session for myself every single day since that first class, over three years ago now. some days, i give myself more than one. i can no more imagine not doing it than i can imagine not brushing my teeth.

i cannot even believe that i have done this for three years. i generally think of myself as undisciplined and uncommitted and yet somehow, i committed to this without even thinking about it.

(there are other reasons why i don't want to try to convince people to try reiki. reasons like, people vary. or, i believe that we all have our own path and i will never try to tell you that my path is right for you. or, all roads lead to rome – as in, i'm pretty sure i could have found my way to this place any number of ways; reiki just happened to be the way i stumbled upon.)

another reason is that i don't know how to talk about my experience. well, other than in bits and pieces: i don't chew my nails, i don't hate myself, i don't need steroids to be around cats, i can sing higher notes again.

i was hoping to finally talk about my experience a little but it turns out that i still cannot find the words, even if i give myself permission to talk about it awkwardly and inadequately.

still, maybe this is enough for now. i guess doing something every day for three years says something about my experience, even without saying anything else. (then again, i have brushed my teeth at least twice a day every single day for what feels like a million years, and yet i still have a cavity.)

do you know that as of today, atlas has been with me for eight years? eight years! i cannot believe it.

in some ways, it feels like he's always been here. in other ways, it feels like i've hardly had any time with him and need at least eight more years. (at least.)

i was thinking about atlas and nature the other day and i realized that they elicit similar feelings in me.

there are moments when i look at atlas and i feel so much love and gratitude and joy that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. he is full of sweetness and love and joy and a zest for life and he has been one of my greatest teachers. i cannot believe how lucky i am to have him in my life.

there are moments when i am in nature (particularly in the forest or by the ocean or when i see a bluebird) and i am so overcome by love and joy and beauty and wonder that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. the best way i can describe it is to say that it feels like my soul is singing. i cannot believe how beautiful the world is and how lucky i am to be living in it.

so today, i will take atlas for a run on our favorite trail in the woods, and i will offer up a prayer of thanks for this moment, this puppy, this life. i wouldn't trade him (or it) for anything.

"Nature will bear the closest inspection. She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain."

– Henry David Thoreau

why, hello there!

i am happy to report that i am finally feeling much better. my tummy is back to normal and my body is almost there. hopefully elizabeth will take me for our usual walks and runs now. all this lying about is not good for a dog’s sanity.

i would, however, like to state for the record that i do not like my old harness or my new harness. i do not see why i have to wear them. elizabeth said something about necks and pain and collars but it didn’t sound important so i ignored her. i give her the big sad eyes look and stop and scratch often and make it very hard for her to put the step-in harness on. nothing seems to work. what does a dog have to do to get his way?

did you hear that i get to send out postcards! i can’t wait.

for some reason, this series makes me think of madeline l'engle, in particular, the story titled a ring of endless light (which has always been my favorite of her books, probably because it includes dolphins).

{an extremely irregular series inspired by kelly, in which atlas dispenses pearls of wisdom}

"sometimes you just have to let your people do what they want to do, in order to get some peace. besides, better a buried paw than a silly outfit."

off and on over the past many months, i noticed a huge feeling of resistance to the idea of selling prints. it just didn’t feel like me, and i kept wanting to remove prints from my etsy shop altogether.

this seemed rather puzzling. i thought i wanted to offer prints, but clearly something about it felt wrong.

one day, i realized the problem. i’m not offering prints in a way that is fun for me. it feels rather like i have turned my prints into a widget and i am the assembly line. of course that’s not exactly what is happening, but somehow it’s missing the same light and playful spirit that is present with my cards and postcards.

my resulting epiphany: it’s not enough to love the thing i’m offering. i have to love the process of offering it as well.

i want to bring that light and playful spirit back. i want my print offering to be full of surprise and delight and joyful anticipation. for me and for you.

so, here’s what’s going to happen.

at the end of august, all of the prints currently in the shop will disappear.

at the beginning of each month – starting in september – i’ll add a set of prints to the shop. my sense is that it will be between one and five. there may be a theme. (oh, who am i kidding; of course there will be a theme!) the sizes and prices will depend entirely on the prints.

at the beginning of the next month, those prints will disappear, and a new set will take their place. it’s entirely possible that a particular image may show up again someday; then again, it may not.

it’s a wandering collection of prints!

oh, the fun. i am so excited to play with this, and i hope you enjoy it too.

(atlas comes home from the doggy ranch today. yay! i miss him. and i need some new atlas pictures.)

this photo makes me laugh. apparently dogs find watching the sun set extremely dull. atlas certainly does. this particular time, he found a way to amuse himself – by gnawing on the giant piece of driftwood on which i was sitting.

dogs are so silly.

my computer is gone right now. it is at the apple store, where they are transferring all the files over to my new computer. hopefully they will both be home later today or tomorrow.

yes, i am finally upgrading my beloved eight-year-old imac. i have been procrastinating on this for well over a year and a half, and slowly working through the things that were in the way of me upgrading.

on monday, i was finally ready. and then i cried while i was driving to the apple store.

it turns out there was another reason i was procrastinating.

i got my computer the same year i got atlas. atlas doesn't look like he's eight, and i don't feel any older myself, so it is easy for me to forget that eight years have indeed passed. the decision to say goodbye to my computer reminded me.

so, i gave myself a mental hug, told myself that it was perfectly and completely ok that i might feel sad upon being reminded that the puppy i adore is getting older, and let myself be sad. now, i am enjoying his company while he is here – and soon, i will enjoy my new computer.

that you are loved.

that you are not alone.

that you are enough.

always.