It was definitely Friday, my body felt it as I slipped out of bed and into an old pair of khakis, you know, the kind that are frayed around the bottoms and pocket openings, just a tad too big and soft as an old cotton sheet. I threw on a big wool sweater I've had for 10 years plus, that looks just as good as the day I got it and rolled downstairs to get the fire gowing strong again. My legs were tired, my hands stiff and my eyes were still half-closed. The day had begun, there were children to pack off to school and another endless "to do" list to tackle.
Half way through the day I ran into a good friend and in the process of normal chit chat I asked her how her week had been. The answer was a little rough and she said she'd been listening to the noise. She said she had to remind herself of what I'd told her, that she shouldn't listen to the noise, that the noise was not the truth, that it was the way of the old life, not the new one. We call noise the nay-sayers, the negative influences, the people who aren't necessarily your adversaries, but you know good and well that they're definitely NOT on your team.
As I listened to my own advice that I'd given a few months back, I soaked it in as if it was new information, this time from her to me, it was a gift, running into her at just the right time. I'd been playing my own noise over and over again all week, like a broken record, and one I just couldn't seem to turn off.
How much easier is it to look in on other people's lives than our own sometimes. If I've said it before I'll say it again, often the advice we most freely give is that which we most need to heed ourselves. One day I'll learn.
I thought you might like to check in on Sunny, see how she's grown? She sits so well on command, fetches and retrieves and even drops the tennis ball when I tell her to. What a great dog, all 7 months of her.