trusting

Being Open and Trusting


I’m close to finishing the 2nd draft of my new book, Through Frankie’s Eyes: Lessons Learned from a Dachshund on Wheels. I’ve promised to have it to my editor no later than next Friday. This is my first adult nonfiction book. Writing it has been great therapy for me in some areas, as well as revisiting my journey and realizing how far I have come. I hope by sharing my process in being open and trusting and lessons I’ve learned from Frankie will help others once I publish my book.

I’ve felt a transition happening not only with myself, but with Frankie as well, for a good year. I’ve tried to resist the fact that I feel that Frankie wants to slow down a bit in her work. Because she has been my main focus for over four years with the children’s books I wrote about her, and the school presentations I do with her, and our therapy dog team work- This place of acceptance was a hard place for me to come to. My biggest fear has been wondering what my next path is…. as well as accepting she is aging.

I love my life and work with Frankie- she has brought huge, huge blessings to me . Too numerous to mention right now. But one of the recent lessons is learning to let go, be open, and trust a new path would emerge. I had to remind myself to not think so hard about it. Let it come naturally and authentically.

I had some sleepless nights worrying about “what’s next” and how do I transition? Change is a scary place to be sometimes. But it seems I have crossed that hump. One thing has led to another and I find myself taking my first Reiki class this Saturday with hopes of becoming a Reiki Master by year end with a focus on animals. I knew I wanted to continue working with animals, but just couldn’t find a picture in my head of what that looked like.

Reiki feels right to me and I’m excited to be on this new energy healing journey. It has led me to considering revamping my website with more focus on my brand, Joyful Paws, and myself as an author and all I want to evolve to in new areas of work with animals. I’ve been talking with my web mistress and hope to revamp my website in the next couple of months.

When I began my journey with Frankie after her paralysis, writing her books, and sharing her story with as many as I could, I remember having little confidence. My confidence steadily grew the more I got out there. Starting out, in theory, I felt myself standing behind her as my confidence grew. Then I found myself standing beside her as I grew more into me. Now I realize I must stand in front of her, on my own, as I move forward. This has been, for me, the hardest last step. Not because I don’t feel confident, because I do more than ever. But realizing there will be a day that Frankie moves on. But I’ve also come to really believe in my heart that when that day comes, her physical being will move on, but her soul will always be with me. There is a bond between us that will never be broken.

So being open and trusting now has me very excited about 2012 and my new adventures, plus a bigger vision of where I want to go (though will save those thoughts for another time- one day at a time here).

As I work in my writing studio today, I looked over to Frankie resting comfortably and she makes me smile. What a life of wonder, hope and joy that little dog has given me. We will continue to do our work on a more limited basis, and for as long as I feel she is comfortable, but I can finally say I find great peace and comfort in watching her nap and enjoy her senior years… and knowing everything is going to be just fine.

“Often in the stillness of the night when all nature seems asleep about me there comes a gentle rapping at the door of my heart. I open it and a voice inquires, “Pokagon, what of your people? What Will their future be?” My answer is: “Mortal man has not the power to draw aside the veil of unborn time to tell the futrue of his race. That gift belongs of the Divine alone. But it is given to him to closely judge the future by the present, and the past.” ~Simon Pokagon, from 365 Day of Walking the Red Road by Terri Jean