Day: February 25, 2015

I meet people every day who say they wish to be authentic, they want their work to be authentic, their lives to be authentic. I want that also, it is a good thing to want, although there is no narrow definition or common understanding of what it means to be authentic.

I have been working hard for some years to be authentic, I believe it is hard and draining – and sometimes frightening – work. A lot of people who way they want to be authentic don’t really want to be authentic, I suspect, they would prefer to run and hide, but that is just a guess. There are no reliable figures on who is authentic and who isn’t, it seems creepy to me to even try and decide.

I can only speak for me. I work at being authentic every day of my life. To me, it means facing the truth about who I am. Finding perspective on my life. Telling the truth about it. Moving forward every day, looking ahead.  Writing things that are honest and real. Making my own decisions.  I have much faith but do not hide behind any God to tell me what to do. It is up to me to decide what to do.

I have been on the hero journey, I have faced the sometimes ugly truth about myself, it can be dispiriting to realize how much work I have yet ahead of me to come close to being the person I wish to be. Being authentic is standing in my truth, not in the truth of other people. I live a life of gratitude, I give thanks every day for what I have, I do not dwell on what I have lost. Like every human being,  I have a lot, and I have lost a lot.

Being authentic means understanding what it is I really need and what it is I do not really need. It means being creative every single day, it means saving rest for the afterlife, it means kissing the ground in thanks for every day that I have to be productive and meaningful. It means shedding much convention. I do not live my life to be wealthy and old, I would prefer to die poor and happy, and as young as I can figure out how to be. I wish to be stronger, and stronger every single day.

It does not matter who I am or what I believe for something wonderful to happen. Every day.

I seek a life with genuine love and connection, encouragement and support, trust and understanding. I open my heart and journey to the world, I do it as fearlessly as I can manage.  I want my work to matter, to have meaning, to touch lives and souls in one way or another. I do not live to be loved or agreed with, I want to be a fiery star blazing across the sky, I want people to shake their heads as they look up. What is that?, they will wonder. Some will run from the light, some will embrace it, some will laugh and roll their eyes as I sail through the night sky.

On my tombstone, I do not want to see the words “I always agreed with him,”  I would prefer to see “he made me think.” And he said what he thought. My triumphs and disasters are mine, and my alone. I want to be my own person, living in the joy of my own decisions and mistakes and wisdom. I wish to grow old gracefully, sharing every single thing I have learned with every poor soul who wishes to sort through the debris and learn something from it.

Being authentic means thinking for myself, I do not care for any of the labels – left or right – that people like to put on themselves so that they never need to bear the burden of thinking again. Being authentic means being real and honest, speaking from the heart, opening myself up to the good and bad in me, for others to see.

If I do not learn to love and respect me, then no one else can ever love me. The world is a mirror, I look into it and it looks back into me.

The Divine Old Dog sent me a voice text this afternoon,

first she sent an Emoji, a dancing dog, it popped up

on my Iphone, and I thought it might be her,

“I didn’t know you could text, and with video no less.”

I messaged back with my own Emjoi,

a big face with a teary smile. “Yo!,” was the message.

“Sure,” she wrote, “they love Apple stuff up here,

devices everywhere,

we are in the Cloud, of course, very busy here.”

“How are you, Divine Old Dog?,” I asked.

“I am good,” she said, “just checking in. ”

She added:

“I didn’t get much rest, there is a demand for big

and scary dogs who protect people, I’m working with

a young boy who has some scary people around him,

I ran off several of them today.”

There was a pause.

“How is Maria?,” she texted.

Okay, I said, she misses you, but

she thinks you were ready to go.

“We got strong together,” she said,

“she needed time to grow and know herself,

she doesn’t need a dog like me now,

my work is done. You know us spirit dogs,

we come when we are needed, we leave when we are done.

Maria can take care of herself. She is strong.”

“Is it sad for you to come and go?,” I asked.

“No, not really, I miss people for awhile, but

the good thing about my job is that I get to do it again,

I like to go where I am needed, and move along when I am not.”

Still, she said, it was sweet being down there

on the farm.

“We hated men together,” she said softly,
“And then we found out you could trust some of them.

At least for a bit.”

I thought I saw her wink.

“The thing is,” she said,” there are a lot of strong

people who think they are weak. People pick on them.

I can be helpful.

I scared this boy’s drunken uncle so bad he peed himself and ran

out through the screen door. A bully, he won’t be back soon.

Maria would have loved it.”

“Do you want to talk to  her yourself?,” I asked.

“No, that’s not allowed, she said. “Gets too emotional. Just

wanted to thank you for being so patient with me – I didn’t like you coming around –

I know I gave you a hard time, I needed to

let you know I am deep in my next chapter.  No time to rest. He

is a nice kid, young, I’ll be here awhile. One night here, and I’m sleeping

at the foot of the bed. And he is sleeping now, too, for the first

time in months.

I’m young again too, the angels do amazing

stuff up here, so he and i will grow up together. I can

run again, and my legs don’t hurt, I got a chipmunk today,

snapped him in half, tossed him in the air, it was awesome,

everybody screaming at me.

My young man will be strong one day too.  Take care of Maria. I loved her a lot.

I know she’ll probably get some cute wussy dog, I can’t say I blame her.

Humans are like that. Change, change, change. I was ready to go.

Stay warm down there.”

And then she was gone, the screen went blank.

Red moved down the path to the corner of the barn. (see below.) Liam backed up a bit, then challenged Red and refuse to move. At this point, Rose, who was a great sheepdog, would have gotten quickly into Liam’s face, nipping him on the nose and grabbing some wool. Red has a very cool and professional manner about him, he lowers his head, shows eye, puts his body right in front of Liam and waits him out. After 10 seconds, Liam usually folds and backs  up. That’s what he did this morning.

We woke up to a balmy 7 degrees this morning, I might switch to polo shirts and shorts. We went out to the pasture, and there was a great “High Noon” scene there, Liam had come out of the pole barn and Red just came into the gate. They went into their stare down as Red inched up the path slowly and without hesitation. No panic or excitement.

Liam stood his ground until Red got to the corner of the barn, and he made a mild gesture towards butting Red, which Red ignored. Liam backed into the barn, strutting and posturing a bit. Red doesn’t mind strutting or posturing, as long as Liam goes where Red tells him to go. Testosterone all around.

Come to think of it, there is a Gary Cooper quality to Red, he is steady and calm under pressure, he doesn’t lose his cool, he is never more violent than he absolutely has to be and he always gets the job done.