For as long as I can remember, I have been bilingual.  I speak English and I speak Dog.  While I’ve known several amazing people who can speak it much more fluently than I, and though there are many things I lack, I have learned that I can hold up my end of a canine conversation. 

It has always been easier for me to find comfort in the animal kingdom than in human society so it was my great fortune to meet my incredible canine companion, Joseph, 15 years ago.  He is, without a doubt, one reason I have remained on the outside of an insane asylum thus far. 

This past September 27^th, I was walking him in the early morning as I routinely do but had decided to go a slightly different route around the high school as it was Sunday and the air was still except for a quiet patter of rain.  Joseph was characteristically walking a bit behind me, lollygagging as he often does, now in his older age.  I was lost in thought for an instant and when I turned back around to find him, he was gone.  Vanished.  Disappeared.  Not a trace. 

My heart pounded with fear and adrenalin as I ran backwards, forwards and every which way, retracing steps, looking in drains, turning over every stone – still nothing.   The rain was constant and heavier now and his hearing was not that of a young pup anymore so my calling remained unanswered.  I raced home hoping he had somehow found his way without becoming lost or confused but that was to no avail.  I called my father and mother who immediately dispersed into different cars as did I to search the grounds – still nothing, no sign.  The howling wind convinced me further that he was suffering somewhere invisible to my eye where he couldn’t free himself, cold and frightened.  Unrelenting, we blanketed the area again and again.

We searched for over an hour and with each passing minute my panic grew exponentially.  I called my sister-in-law for reinforcements and as I explained what was happening, I heard the sound of my spirit break apart in my own voice.  It was unrecognizable to me.  I tried to calm myself, knowing I was reacting to the fear and to nothing tangible yet, but I couldn’t contain the sobbing.  She replied that they were already on their way and in that moment, I thought about how horrific the pain must be to lose a child as this was a fraction of that feeling and torturous. 

We continued to vigilantly canvass the area over and over the same terrain and then, finally, not far from where I first looked back, I spotted him, dripping wet in the storm and blending in to the fall colors.  Exhausted and relieved I picked him up, and placed him safely in the car as we silently drove home. 

As I carried him out of the Tahoe, what struck me was the warmth of the picture of all of our cars rolling into the driveway like waves, one right after the other.  I thought about how much more at ease I am when I entertain the notion, albeit false, that I am completely self-sufficient and self-reliant.  I suppose it is some sort of defensive tactic I employ to protect myself from future battle scars as people’s actions typically can be hurtful and yet, here were people putting everything else aside to help me find my golden retriever.  Of course, I know cognitively that we need other human beings, but to feel it so viscerally was a wake up call.  It takes these moments of sheer agony to remind us that we are indeed connected and that the connection is precious and sacred. 

I’ve always been against the platitudes “family is everything” and “blood is thicker than water” because I felt that they were too limiting, that there are times even strangers need to be included.  Granted, in the above example, my people happened to be relatives of mine, but I have dozens of lifelong instances of those who share no blood bond with me and yet who have come forth when every chip was down.

Regardless of what forces bring you together, it is the people in our lives who are invaluably necessary to get us through our most terrifying moments.  They are the ones you lean on when you are breaking.  They are the ones who answer your call.  They are the ones who get in their cars to look for your lost dog on a rainy, frigid, Sunday morning. 

Recently, I experienced a bit of an upheaval as I had been working with a few people I enjoyed and believed we were on the same page but soon found out, very unexpectedly, that was not the case.  After receiving a few terse emails, the project dissolved right in front of me due to irreconcilable differences that I still don’t exactly understand.  I was left with a bitter taste and a feeling of exhaustion, regret and sadness. 

The next day, I was to help sail a boat to ....Rhode Island.....  The wind was against us, the tide was against us and rain was descending from the threatening skies.  It certainly was not a comforting thought that we were about to board the boat that day, but I, for one, couldn’t stand being on land another minute, so we headed off. 

After pulling the fenders and tightening the lines, I decided not to let the past 24 hours ruin another minute of my life.  I resolved to take the lessons I had learned and simply push forward.  After all, that was probably the only thing left to do anyway. 

About an hour later, the tide began to turn, the wind picked up and the rain stopped.  As we sailed past Point Judith, it reminded me once again that life is full of disappointments, large and small, and if we can hang on just long enough for the sea-change we will have our reprieve, even if it is only for a moment, we will feel better and we will be at peace.  As we made our way toward ....Newport...., I learned that Point Judith was also aptly named “The Harbor of Refuge” and I thanked her for helping me as much as she has all the other wayward sailors in times past.

I was reading a Time Magazine at the gym the other day and found an article on Nelson Mandela.  I was struck by the entire article but by these lines in particular:

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".....the message was clear: Life is never either/or. Decisions are complex, and there are always competing factors. To look for simple explanations is the bias of the human brain, but it doesn't correspond to reality. Nothing is ever as straightforward as it appears......."

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Validation is important and somehow reading that article seemed to ease my mind over things I didn't even realize were bothering me.  Whenever one takes the initiative to make a major decision one is always confronted with people's opinions.  Some are welcome, supportive in nature and have your best interest at heart; some are still concerned for you but carry an air of "mother knows best," and still others are straight-away mean and debilitating, explaining to you just how systematically you have destroyed your own life.

After my last decision, I struggled with the lack of a sound-bite for those who needed it.  They wanted a categorical explanation as to what was happening in my life and I wished I could oblige mostly because of their level of anxiety over it. 

If you are anything like me, you take your life cues from how it feels and not from how it looks to anyone else or how it "should" be, nor do you concern yourself too much with the fact that your road has slightly different curves on it than most.  Of course, hind-sight is 20/20 and I suppose, if pushed I would say that I would change some things in my past if I felt the goal was to look better on paper.  However, while that goal is admirable in its own right and certainly has more security in one fashion or another, it isn't mine.  Does that concern me?  Of course it does.  We all have to find a way to survive in this world with each other while remaining true to who we are as individuals, but if I were to have changed my history so that I melded more seamlessly with societal rules, then I wouldn't have learned the valuable, though sometimes painful, lessons that I was taught on my way to today.

Trying to fit all of that in an answer under 2 sentences became difficult.  Then I heard Nelson's words "decisions are complex, and there are always competing factors."  I decided that would be my mantra.  I would use his words like a favorable wind to carry me forth until I found a safe place to regroup, regain and rebuild.

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Entire Nelson Mandela article here:
http://www.time.com/time/printout/0,8816,1821467,00.html
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You know you're having a bad day when you need 16 ounces of whiskey in a 12 ounce beer.

I heard this on the West Wing, I wish I knew who wrote it.  I thought I'd share it with you.:

THE WAY OUT:

This guy's walking down a street, when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep, he can't get out.

A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up, "Hey you! Can you help me out"? The doctor writes him a prescription, throws it down the hole, and moves on.

Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole! Can you help me out"? The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole, and moves on.

Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out"? And the friend jumps in the hole! Our guy says "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here"! And the friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out".

"We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience." 

- Pierre Teilhard de Chardin