Day Sixty-One: Appear
Natalie Goldberg writes, List twenty things you can’t live without. And as I finish typing this, the dog comes to me, all paws, to tell me there is something she can’t live without. Two stuffed animals with their limbs pulled off and plastic eyes hanging from their sockets, a deeply wounded tennis ball, and a crumpled up piece of kindling lie abandoned on the floor behind her. I’m bored, she says, resting her chin on the table. I reach behind me and retrieve a fresh piece of cedar from the wood box. Yeah, ok, she says giving it a sniff and trotting back to her bed. I have purchased seven minutes at best.
Twenty things I can’t live without.
A blank page
Love
Truth
Sunrise
Really. Good. Coffee.
Kissing
The inner voice
Insulin
Passion
Dreams
The ocean, and time to be near it
Imagination
Faith
Garlic
Adventure
Forest walks
Tall trees and the birds who inhabit them
The desire to learn
The colour red
Literature
The dog has returned with cedar chips caught in her lips and a hankering to hit the trail. It would appear she is ready for her walk and nothing will dissuade her. I can live without it, she says, but it will be uncomfortable for us both so we should probably just go.
Love
Truth
Sunrise
Really. Good. Coffee.
Kissing
The inner voice
Insulin
Passion
Dreams
The ocean, and time to be near it
Imagination
Faith
Garlic
Adventure
Forest walks
Tall trees and the birds who inhabit them
The desire to learn
The colour red
Literature
The dog has returned with cedar chips caught in her lips and a hankering to hit the trail. It would appear she is ready for her walk and nothing will dissuade her. I can live without it, she says, but it will be uncomfortable for us both so we should probably just go.
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