Transforming that Kick the Dog Moment into, AND WHAT ELSE?

I had it all planned out. Meditate for twenty minutes, Walk with my shaman BFF, yoga class at my newly manifested perfect yoga studio, followed by 5 free hours of creative time where i would make a dent in the universe with my mind and then I’d pick up my son from school and be an amazing Mom.  I knew where I’d be at 1:05 when the new moon eclipse would be at it’s apex…I’d be in the sacred ravine behind my house on a platform, seated in a camp chair, affirming my face off.

It was February 15, and I was ready for the new moon solar eclipse that I just  knew would act as cosmic slippery slide into the next day’s Chinese New year and all that entailed, which as a podcast host who bills herself as someone who knows just enough to be dangerous about a lot of things, meant that we were transitioning from a year of the king to a year of the servant: Fire Rooster, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.  Earth Dog?  Make yourself at home.  However, even if you think you’ve put yourself into position to draft on cosmic events as I did with my pseudo smug post  (Here) sometimes the Universe has other ideas.

So, here’s what really happened. Terrible nights sleep led to skipped meditation and an IV drip of coffee. “Mom, it’s late start.” Delete walk with Shaman. YOGA class turned out to be taught by a student who shouted and asked between every asana: How is everyone doing?!”  I involuntarily adopted the standing b#^ch face as she led us through the weirdest sequences of poses ever, and then because my aura was flashing like a bike light:  “Please don’t adjust me,”  she did, in her loud, encouraging way, every other pose.

Sarah! You can get that arm up further!”  

I arrived home to a panicked email about a video asset that needed a change, and spent the next 2 hours tracking down something, sending emails, and executing detailed instructions for work to be done on a closed project, which may or may not have pointed to a mistake on my part a month earlier.

And, so it went, the comical ALT Day.  If I were a doll person, I might say: I had envisioned an American Girl Doll kind of day, perfect in every way, and instead felt like a rag doll, not in control of anything, and in a duck and cover mindset by 2pm.   I will say that when things go that sideways, my superpower is I will eventually start laughing and ask myself:

What words might Dianne m. Connelly, my first, third, and final guest on season one of the the Packing for Crazy Town podcast,  use to language my story about my day? 

After all, she says things like: “What’s the first thing I know when I have a headache?” That I have a head! And it’s a gift to be here at all.” In Dianne’s World,  life is not a pathology or a parking lot, and every day is a chance to design a way of being big enough to cradle everything we have to bear and still language a world that chooses to presence joy, gratitude, love, and laughter over misery, worry, fault-finding, and complaint.

“None of us is getting out of here alive, as she is fond of saying, so, without knowing what will be asked of us, without knowing what comes first – “our death or tomorrow,” how do we wake up every day, and transform those “kick the dog moments” into: “AND, WHAT ELSE?”

 

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