k0lk3r

 To the puppies  the howlers the yowlers the growlers those diggers burrowers and rollers  Your ears come in all shapes and sizes your fur short and wirey or wild and fluffy  I love you  so much.  Your breath smells, you drink water loudly, you demand my attention  I love you so much. I love you so much to the point of physical pain. When you look at me I feel excited, when you sit by me, secure when you scream and bark and misbehave I want to help you feel safe, get treats  When your tail wags my smile widens, when you shake and pant I must hold you and breathe slowly  Why must you live for such a short segment of my life?  Here's to the pups reminding me of how I want to live each one deepening the legacy of the best friends past

 Hey blog friends, I have a lot going on right now. We all seem to; the world is crumbling for one.  My grandpa passed away last week and I took a last minute trip to New York to spend time with family. It was full of both love and drama and felt both generative and exhausting. There's a lot to say about all of this but I'm going to trail in an adjacent direction.  (the below is an example of how I feel on my not so good days; I want to remind myself and tell whoever's reading this that on my good days, things don't feel so...this way...)  Coming back from my trip, I felt so depleted. However, we live in capitalism so I had to go back to work immediately. The whole week I struggled to function. As a result, my old familiar mean guy voice stuck with me- especially at work. This mean guy voice looked out for proof of my failure as a therapist and latched onto any opportunity to prove this hypothesis. This followed by an old familiar spiral : I'm a failure at my job, s...