Sunday Sunrise

We are all surrounded by the branding of “pushing ourselves”. Taught that we must constantly step out of our comfort zone to grow. 

For me, life seems to naturally do a good job of taking us dangerously close to our edges. So maybe we looking at it all wrong.

What if it’s not about forcing ourselves outside of what brings us comfort but rather we need to unlearn and find our way back in? 

I remember the day I met Crosby. He had 10 brothers and sisters and I had no idea how to pick which tiny yipping ball of golden fluff I would take home with me. He made the choice easy. I sat on the ground and he ran right to me, climbed in my lap and refused to move. I couldn’t even look at the other pups because he just made himself at home.

I had to wait another 2 weeks before I could bring him home and I remember waking up at 1 am, wondering what it would be like to have him there. Thinking how I’d have to start to get up out of bed and take him outside to potty, middle of the night, rain, wind, cold… 

In 12 years, that never became a chore. I would have slept through so much beauty. It became our time to marvel at the night.

I miss hearing your big paws click clack down the hall to the side of the bed to tell me it is time.

Because of you, I saw the stars and satellites fly by in the sky, the rose bush lit by moonlight, and hundreds of fireflies. I smelled winter arrive. Felt the first flakes of a midnight snow. Heard the first spring peepers sing with the coyotes. I knew when the owl woke up (an hour before dawn). I saw countless sunrises and all the phases of the moon.

There is no cold nose nudging me now, so perhaps it's just out of habit but I still wake up. I still get out of bed and walk outside. I can find tiny glimpses of comfort there because I can still see you all around in that dark night light.