Today I took our 13 and 1/2 year-old dog, Penny for a walk through our neighborhood. For an old girl Penny can definitely trot right along with me at a pretty good clip most days, unless her arthritis is acting up. She even acts like an excited puppy when we bring her home a chew bone to devour. She will take it into her mouth and toss it over and over again in an attempt to get us to throw it and play tug-of-war with her. It's awfully cute and rarely can we resist her invitation to play. In other words, Penny is in good shape for her age and can play and jog with the best of them.
But today, for whatever reason, Penny took her sweet old time on our walk. This happens once in a while and every time it happens I am challenged to enjoy the slower pace rather than get frustrated by it. I should also mention that when I take Penny on a walk I am also taking myself on a walk--it's my exercise for the day. So when Penny is "pokey" it means that I have to slow down my pace, which means less of a workout for me. Today was a good test for me because it seemed that every 10 steps or so she found something new to sniff and we would stop to explore the area. Grrr.
Another thing I should mention is that Penny was not raised on a leash. She spent most of her youth on a farm with my husband, wandering the fields as he worked and roaming the countryside at her leisure. She's never really gotten the hang of this long rope-like thing attached to her neck, leading her around. Now that we live in a neighborhood with traffic and other dogs to navigate, her lack of experience with leash culture has become a bit more obvious. For example, we will be walking at a moderate pace on the "safe" side of the street (against traffic) and Penny, without warning, will tug mightily as she abruptly switches directions to cross the street. One minute we are walking peacefully and swiftly in a forward direction and then all of a sudden she pulls us in the opposite direction! It’s a bit unnerving to say the least. There have been times she's tugged so hard and fast that I barely have the time to tug her out of the way of an oncoming car. Yikes.
Anyways, today was one of those "slow" days. I guess if you have children you can relate. I was in the mood for a brisk jaunt, but I could tell right away that Penny had her own ideas--to sniff every inch of grass or ivy on her path. Admittedly, I was a bit annoyed at first, after all this was my walk, too! Stopping every 15 seconds was not going to burn off the chocolate I'd eaten for lunch, or the 4 slices of pepperoni pizza for that matter! But alas, there was no use resisting Penny's urge to sniff. Besides she's so dang cute, I just can't stay perturbed at her for long. Eventually I conceded (ok, so I did tug her away from a few spots of interest, but this was after at least a minute of waiting). For the most part, I surrendered. After all, it wasn't like I didn't have those 10 steps of briskness between each sniffing session. And Penny still jogged a bit here and there, sometimes for even longer than 10 steps. It was just more of a start-stop kind of thing, which in the past has a tendency to get on my nerves (just ask my husband).
Because of our slower pace today I can rattle off a list of natural sights, smells, and sensations that I noticed on our walk: the soft, pastel orange-yellow hue of the rhododendron flowers, the earthy smell of mulch that had recently been scattered on neighbors' lawns during their springtime gardening, and the warmth of the sun on my face and body as we meandered along a grassy patch on the side of the road. I don't think I would have relished any of these exquisite moments if it hadn't been for Penny. Or at least I would not have remembered them long enough to write about them. Sure, I've taken myself on walks before and noticed all sorts of beautiful things, but when I'm with Penny she helps me slow down and truly experience each precious discovery--like taking a snapshot of each bird or leaf or smell. Because Penny lives in the moment and enjoys each one so much, she helps me do the same. And as a human with a monkey mind for a brain--always planning for the future or ruminating on the past--I appreciate these bits of respite.
As I reflect on our walk today, I realize the range of emotions I found myself experiencing--from mild frustration to appreciation. I am grateful that I was aware enough to notice these subtle variations and that I was eventually able to make the choice to enjoy and appreciate Penny's "lessons." She’s a wise teacher; our pooch and I love her for it. Our walk was just a metaphor for life, really. At any moment we all have the ability to make a choice about the kind of experience we're having. And, of course, we are better able to make positive, self-affirming choices when we are well-rested, well-fed, and making time for our loved ones and ourselves. But it can be such a tricky balance and so inconsistent. One day we have awareness and the next we get impatient and try to rush things along just to get through the day.
About 4 years ago, I found myself on crutches after a knee injury. I didn't know Penny then, so I didn’t have her gentle reminders to guide me down the more “enlightened” path. I worked as a college counselor and my job entailed walking from building to building to make "house calls" to colleagues or to find resources for students. Doing my job on crutches was a real challenge, especially considering that previously I would race around campus mindlessly trying to zoom from one place to another to get as much done as possible. The crutches were a gift and I knew it, but boy, did I resist the experience! I was cranky about it for a long, long time until I finally made some adjustments (asking colleagues to come to me, giving myself extra time between appointments, etc.).
What if we didn't need a dog or an injury or our children to remind us to slow down? What if we just set up our lives that way with enough breathing room and with ample "pauses" between activities and goals and meetings? I haven't noticed that moving faster does anyone any good. I've lost people I love to the fast-paced life. It's a sad thing. But we can change the way we "do" our lives. We don't have to succumb to the addiction to getting as much done as quickly as possible. We can enjoy more love, more intimacy, and more beauty and brilliance if we just slow it all down a notch--or ten!
