For As Long As It Takes

April 7 2012

2 dogs

out for a walk

in the woods, off-leash, in spring.

They have anointed me leader,

the alpha male

in a pack of 3.

Which strikes me as odd,

deficient in tooth and claw

olfaction flawed,

my 2-legged walk

at best.

Their pathetic boss

who envies and admires them,

inhabiting the permanent present

with such eager intensity.

While I find myself lost

in time,

dissecting the past

and best-laid plans,

recrimination, regrets

what might happen next.

How sad is this?

The conscious effort

to drag myself back

from inside my head,

when I should focus, instead

on them.

Their athletic beauty

and utter absorption,

the pure life force

they express.

The simple privilege of their company,

on this rugged path

on the cusp of spring.

And their mute consent

to let me walk with them,

my fitness, unquestioned

authority 
uncontested.

Here, in dog heaven

on this glorious day.

An honorary citizen

for as long as it takes.

What was actually distracting me, pulling me into my head, was this poem; which started to write itself as we walked. I think we've all experienced something similar:  walking, or driving, on auto-pilot; not remembering how we ended up where we did.

A “meta” experience like this – much like the incessant picture-taking during significant events – is most unfortunate,  a fine illustration of just how hard it is for us to fully occupy the present. Of how we detach, analyze, anticipate; listen to the running commentary and play-by-play in our heads.

The dogs, of course, are utterly immune to such nonsense. Needless to say, I envy and admire them.