the real meaning of happiness

The woods. While Mark and I were walking yesterday with Sasha, I commented that if the time comes when I can no longer walk in the woods, I will question how much longer I want to live. I feel so complete, alive. Regardless of the temperature, precipitation, wind or other factors... it's where I love to be. I am fine -- no concerns about pain or mobility or anything like that. Just a passing observation. And yet it pops us from time to time -- how much time do I have left to do what I love?

A few days ago -- I don't remember now where I was or what I was doing -- I was struck by the realization that I and everyone elaw will be dead at some point. It is so strange how we walk around, seemingly unaware of this. Like everyone else will get old, sick and die -- BUT NOT ME. It wasn't a bad feeling or scary -- but intense. Another moment of trying to wake up out of the daydream most of spend out time in.

We moved Michael out yesterday; he is in the town just south of us in an apartment. He is working. Hopefully he can stay on track. It has been a rough 4 months.

I finally finished The Monks of New Skete: The Art of Raising a Puppy. The last paragraph is excellent:

"For many of us, this love for creation deepens through the relationships we form with our pets, particularly our dogs. By their very nature and need, dogs draw us out of ourselves: they root us in nature, making us more conscious of the mystery of God inherent in all things. When we take the time and energy necessary to raise our puppies correctly, when we learn to truly listen to them, seeing them as they really are and guiding their development correctly, a deeper part of ourselves is unlocked, a part more compassionate and less arrogant, more willing to share life with another life. And whenever that happens, we know the real meaning of happiness."