Farewell 2015, Hello 2016

Another year draws down to its final hours. Soon, 2015 will be another for the history books. Can’t say, though, that I’m sorry to see this one go. In the measure of calendar years, 2015 was one of the hardest in my adult life. It began with conflict; it ends having seen some very difficult, very deeply-felt losses. I won’t deny there were some highs in 2015 as well, or that I was fortunate enough to be part of things that are truly wonderful and that I got to meet some awesome new friends along the way while enjoying time with old ones.

 

I had to say farewell to my younger brother, so suddenly gone from this world. For all our differences and disagreements, for all those fights that only brothers can get into, I miss him. Fortunately, the good memories far outnumber the bad, and those are what I carry with me into the new year. However, I also carry some poignant lessons, and the one I’ll share here is this: Don’t put off time with family. If I hadn’t listened to my mom and my husband and agreed to a short visit to upstate NY in July, I would have missed one last visit with my brother. One month later, he was gone.

It’s somehow ironic that in that last conversation, he said something that turned out to be what I needed to begin the slow healing from a loss that preceded his passing. However, that earlier loss – and a third that came later – I haven’t talked about openly. Much of it I still won’t.

I spent a lot of this past year in quiet inner turmoil (and, yes, sometimes it was neither entirely quiet nor inward, but I’m human and sometimes our emotions get the best of us). Time spent blaming myself; time lost to anger and hurt. Time spent trying to comprehend things that happened; time lost to believing I wasn’t good enough. Time spent realizing mistakes I’ve made; time lost to recognizing not all the mistakes made were mine.

I’m not ashamed to admit I reached a point where I felt completely beaten. I just wanted to pull away from everything. Just crawl into my cage and lick my wounds. In retrospect, I see that, to some degree, I did pull away. I know now that I had to.

It was the only way I could hear that quiet bark still inside, one I’d forgotten how to hear. It was the only way I could find what my brother was reminding me of; the only way I could see again that lesson in balance that a particular young man has a way of showing me. It was the only way I could find within that strength to stand up again, to begin believing in myself again, and to see past the shadows to all those positive things which brighten my life. Maybe I was beaten – that doesn’t mean I was defeated.

How could I be? This year I became an executive producer of the International Puppy Contest. I got to be part of community pack history as IPC got the first female pup titleholder (yay Incus!). One of my own dreams came to fruition with the first Mid-Atlantic Puppy & Handler Contest. I was nominated for this region’s Pantheon of Leather award (well deserved, Todd!).

More than that, though, my husband, my family (bio and chosen) and my friends with whom I have shared so much – and will still share so much. Even through all that darkness, I never forgot you were all there, and you all helped me through it. Through all of you, I found my way back. And for that, there are not enough words to express how grateful I feel.

It's not all ended yet, I know that. But I know it's not all darkness and struggle now. It's accepting what is, learning from it, and moving forward. 2016 is going to have some rough spots. But, ya know, overall it’s looking pretty good.

So, to 2015, I'll borrow the title of the last episode of MASH: Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen.

to 2016: Here's to another 365 days of things to learn. 365 days of fun with friends and family. 365 days of living life to the fullest.

Happy New Year to All of You!

Applying a Lesson in Progress...

I want to start off by apologizing for letting things slide with the Pupping Out Project since this past summer. I had hoped and intended to launch a new series of interviews with interested pups and handlers that could be shared with the community, an initiative that will span several months and hopefully get a lot of personal stories out there.  At first I was kind of embarrassed that I’d let things slide so much. Yes, real-life needs and circumstances demanded a lot of time and attention. Still, though, I felt like I was failing in something that’s actually very important to me. And, in that light, I wasn’t sure how to re-ignite it.

But, then, I realized that something was happening that is actually very prevalent to what the Pupping Out Project was created for: sharing our experiences so that they might help someone else out there. This isn’t a “coming out of the kennel” experience. I’ve shared my own story on that already. However, it is one I know I’m not alone in experiencing; a difficulty that I’ve personally heard other pups talk about.

I had lost that feeling of connection to my inner pup. I don’t know how or when it began to happen. Likely, I never will. Somehow though, I started to become afraid of going to that place within where once I needed no coaxing at all to reach. It was only through a storm of change that I even began to realize I felt it was missing, that I’d cut myself off from it. Without it, I wasn’t centered or balanced mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Without it, I was trying to hobble forward on one leg as if I still had two. In that light, it’s really no wonder that I wasn’t getting very far.

The only reason I didn’t fall flat on my snout is that I was never really alone. And, while that’s another story, how important it is to this one cannot be understated. I say that because part of the realization came through those I call friends and family, some of whom I’m connected to more via social media than through in-person contact.

Yet now, as it reawakens, I feel more like the playful pup, more like the person who knows he’s part of something greater than himself. I’m beginning to feel centered again. I’ve actually begun to understand even better what being a pup means to me. It’s not the sum total of who or what I am as a person; it’s far more a part of my core that I realized, touching many aspects of my daily life.

I appreciate better the nature of that inner pup: a service Alpha pup. Maybe it’s odd that I would lose sight of that. It’s where my journey as a pup began (well, not necessarily an alpha, but definitely a service pup). By the same token, though, that nature has grown. In the past, it was in service to my former Mister. Today, I’m a stray, but the potential for fulfillment as a service pup is no less. In the past, I explored my dominant side. Today, I’m learning that it was never about trying to separate the pup and that dominant-oriented energy, but rather allowing it all to meld together. Then and now, it wasn’t supposed to be about extremes, but accepting it all as part of the whole package.

It’s been learning that, while in everything I do I try to give my best, the best I have to give comes when I’m connected to and grounded by that inner pup.