This morning as I walked Mocha in the bitter cold, my knee aching, she turned back very quickly, and pulled, which I find so difficult. I started feeling sorry for myself, then I got angry at myself for self-pity, then I stepped into the witness and found compassion for Jenny. Then I reminded myself that there are others out there who struggle with pain that limits them, old women living alone, perhaps, who aren’t lucky enough to be in a place where someone else does the food, cleans the room, changes the sheets. I feel grateful for the help and the companionship.
That will make a blog post. I really have stopped feeling sorry for myself. I really am feeling gratitude.