Life is moving along at a comfortable and balanced pace, you’re getting things done while taking time to be present, grateful and graced with a tank sufficiently full so there’s enough to pour out, and then—boom!—an unexpected something causes you to lose your footing.
I’m feeling that way these days having said goodbye to a sweet Yorkie for the second time in less than six months, and am granting myself grace in going slow and being gentle with myself. Little things are big things in this time of healing.
Watering my garden.
Seeing growth day by day (or hour by hour after a thunderstorm has passed through)
Enjoying a cup of coffee.
Hugs.
A drive on the prairie.
Hot tea in a ceramic mug.
Peonies in bloom.
A squirrel on the fence.
Sitting in my favourite deck chair and reading a physical book for a couple of hours.
The view from my woman cave in the evening.
A bit more sleep.
The written word.
Silence.
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
Julian of Norwich
Sorry for the loss of your sweet Yorkie. Loss can be extremely painful, especially those extra-special ones we lose. You’re in my thoughts these days. Do just as you wrote above: “[A]nd am granting myself grace in going slow and being gentle with myself.”
I’m sorry to read of your loss. I like this post and feel you’re headed in the right direction to heal in your own way, in your own time. My condolences.