Park Bench Promise

Posted February 22, 2015 by Barbara Techel

I’ve been itching to be outside, going for walks. Yesterday it was in the upper 20s. While I realize that may sound very cold to others, it was welcome here where we have been below zero for a good part of February.

Mother Nature seems to have flip-flopped January and February because we should be in the mid 30s for this month. But yesterday, I got Kylie and Gidget out for a short walk. Neither like to walk too far, and Gidget really can’t go all that far because of her IVDD.

After I walked the girls, I dropped them off and continued on for a longer walk alone. This morning was below zero again and the wind is supposed to pick up later today making it feel colder as the day goes on.

I thought about using the excuse of the cold as a good reason for not walking, even though I didn’t want the weather to stop me either. I was going back and forth in my head, lying in bed.

But then I thought about the book I just finished reading, Walking Home: A Pilgrimage from Humbled to Healed and how author Sonia Choquette walked 500 miles in 30 days walking the famous Camino de Santiago. Most days she walked in pouring rain.

That was enough to motivate me to get outside and start walking. My mind so inspired I walked down to the lake (my body may regret this later on!). I hadn’t walked down there in quite some time.

How lovely to come across the park benches sitting in the snow, looking out over the lake. As if a promise, that soon, before we know it, sounds of children splashing in the water will be heard, boats skimming across the lake will echo off the shoreline, and dogs prancing happily down the brick path will cause people to pause and smile.

Images of people sitting upon the benches eating their ice cream cones, reading a good book, or gazing in meditation out into the still blue waters of Elkhart Lake filled my mind and suddenly I realized I had forgotten all about the cold.

Lost in my own meditation from my early morning walk. Now that is what it is all about. I’m so glad I ventured out.

—

Should you enjoy the writing you find here, you may wish to subscribe to my newsletter (on right hand side of post) or my RSS Feed. I’d love it if you would also share through your favorite social media network. Thanks for visiting!

To the Sea – You and Me

Posted February 20, 2015 by Barbara Techel

There we were. Me in my big, floppy periwinkle hat, sitting in the sand, my knees hugging my chest. In the space between my thighs and chest, is you, peeking over the top of my knees, with the brim of my hat acting as an umbrella over your soft, petite head.

The sun is setting as we gaze out into the ever darkening sea. The waves gently lapping up to touch my toes every few moments.

Something about the water as if spirits are dancing on the waves reminding us that we are all connected. We can visit this inner place any time we want whether sitting on the beach, out for a walk, lying in bed, or wherever. It’s always there.

Each time this has happened, I feel this warm glow of knowing rise up in me. It makes me smile. We don’t speak, yet we know there is something real happening between us that needs no words.

This last week I began practicing what I was trained in a few years ago, which is Reiki. It means spiritual or universal energy. Practicing Reiki, which is like a meditation, is holding the space for another to accept and take (or not), whatever it is they wish for their own healing.

Miss Gidget has been the recipient of my practicing this again. And the last three days I find us on the beach as I described above during the Reiki session.

At first, like our minds always try to do, I tried to analyze it. Why are we on the beach? Why does this scene keep popping in my head? Were we once there together in another lifetime? Am I crazy? Why have I pictured this scene three days in a row now?

But then I let it go and sink down into my heart. This is the place I want to be. This place of no explanation. This place of feeling loved, safe and secure. And this is the gift. Not only to me, but to Gidget as well.

This is our connection – a bond between you and me that is ours and only ours – and it is real- and beautiful.

—

Wednesdays with the Wisdom of Dog: Beauty

Posted February 18, 2015 by Barbara Techel

“Wednesdays with the Wisdom of Dog.” This is part of a weekly series of lessons I’ve learned from my dogs, and/or something I feel they are trying to teach us. I welcome your thoughts on any of the lessons or teachings that resonate with you.

It happens just about every time. Kylie will be gazing contently out the front door. I’ll be drawn to sit beside her.

It’s through her eyes and the whisper of Spirit that calls to me to capture what my eyes can’t always see in my busy day-to-day flurry.

The beauty of seasons that ebb and flow. I stop to be still and in the rhythm of Dogs meditative heartbeat.

Winter with snowflakes that fall ever so gently covering the earth in a quiet hush. Trees so stark with their bare branches extending to the sky. Faithful to the sun knowing that their friends, the leaves, will soon become one with their branches once again.

Spring with Goldfinches flitting from branch to branch. A Robin, ear to the ground, listening and waiting for her next meal. The wind gently blowing through the tiny leaves on the birch tree—nature’s own wind chime. Tiny blades of grass kissed with the dew of the morning. Rain that washes away the old and brings in the new. A rainbow that presents itself as a reminder of hope and all the good in the world.

Summer with hummingbirds zooming in and out, landing but for a brief power sip of nectar from the feeder hanging above. Fresh new spurts of growth emerging from the flower bed next to the garage. Lightning that streaks across the sky in an orchestrated concert with Mother Nature as the conductor. Butterflies floating on the waves of summer breezes.

Fall with the leaves turning brilliant orange, yellow and red. Leaves ever so slowly gliding down from the branches, dancing across the front yard as if to the beat of their own drum.Squirrels hustling from tree to tree gathering their winter feast.

Almost nightly a star twinkling in the sky that catches my eye if I sit in the moment long enough. The moon that casts a warm glow over the earth, into my heart, and down to my toes.

Dog reminds us there is beauty everywhere. We don’t have to look far. It is right here, right now, straight ahead, all around, and within.

What has your animal friend taught you about appreciating beauty?

—