Getting My Feat Wet

Photo by Thrive With Creativity

Getting My Feat Wet

It’s a cold winter’s day and in my office, a space heater warms me as I contemplate the intricacies of my latest feat.

One of my dogs begins barking down the hallway, but I am not easily swayed from my screen. I continue what I’m doing as I weigh, in my mind, at what point I’ll get up to see what she’s doing.

Persistence forces her bark more fully into my awareness, and I realize it sounds different than it normally does when she’s announcing an arrival at the door. Not all barks are the same, come to find out.

I go to her and in a playful yet stern tone, ask, “What are you doin’?” She runs to me from the top of the stairs—a place she likes to watch the downstairs window. Her ears flop and her tail wags, and we collide with hugs and kisses.

My baby. Maybe she was singing.

I return to my office and immediately get back to work. I can get lost in work these days. In fact, I often neglect my body—and I know it’s unbalanced. I’m obsessed. I am seriously and unrelentingly determined to make a difference somehow, and I’m motivated to figure it out.

But this is unsustainable.

I put too much pressure on myself, and without clear boundaries, I know my body will become too uncomfortable to continue as I am. It has already begun to feel tight and tense.

Well, how do I find more balance then?

My dog starts barking again, but I hear it clearer this time: “Come hug me. I sense you need paws.”

I pause at her cleverness , then start toward her—and step directly into her water bowl.

I pause again as I stand on my wet feet and chuckle.

How do I find more balance?
I don’t have to jump in all at once.
I just have to get my feet wet.

Getting My Feat Wet
Chrissi Kino © Skull And Moss, LLC.