Years ago, relaxing wasn't something I had to work on. It came naturally, as effortlessly as breathing. I could kick back on the phone with a friend for hours without needing to juggle laundry and bills with the other hand. I could read a book without checking the clock. I could sit in silence in a waiting room without checking Facebook updates. I could dance and sing like a banshee, and to hell with anyone else. I could hug my friends easily and laugh so hard my sides would ache. Since then, I've moshed and fought, found myself on the razor's edge of danger, and lost friends and family to death and distance. And over time, through these tragedies great and small, I thought I'd lost the ability to be carefree.
Then there are moments when I look around only to find myself isolated in a room full of people, when I feel less than what and who I am, when I let the waves of negativity rush over my head. In these gasping moments, I turn inward and focus on my strengths. That I've had struggles and have come through stronger. I'm a tough, Irish-Peruvian, ass-kicking woman that's at peace with her life. I've become a woman my father would be proud of. I'm proud of myself.
Do I wish I had more money, more beauty...just more? Sure, I do. But then again, I realize I don't need more when I have a day like today. Today I laughed with my family. We laughed so hard we cried! We danced and sang, hugged and talked. We snuggled with our dogs. We spent the day just being together. I looked around at my apartment, full of dogs, geekery and the people that mean the world to me, and realized how at peace I am.
Dogs don't have these misgivings, hidden anxieties and self-doubts. They have short lives and don't hide a damn thing. They live with utter simplicity and clarity. They live easily, the way humans should live. Their tragedies and losses make them sage and dignified. Wise, really.
Today was a good day. And now I'm going to snuggle into bed with my dogs and NOT fold a single stitch of laundry.