B is for Barry, A to Z Challenge

He sleeps when I sleep.

He reminds me to drink 80 ounces of water daily, simply by example. He enjoys a meal when I eat.

He respects my tendency towards sensory overload, sitting in total silence with me for hours on end. He never complains that I have been too focused on my physical pain, but instead rests in his easy meditative state all day, sighing gently now and then, reminding me to mimic his ways and see life’s beauty.  Although I am often bed-bound, we complete at least one guided meditation per day with my thousands of fellow meditators on Insight Meditation (such a beautiful online community).

He doesn’t even know the extent to which he enhances my daily life. He is my personal Dahlai Lama. He’s my dog, Barry.DSCN7013

(C) Copyright -Stacey M. Patterson. All rights reserved.

A is for Armor (Blogging from A to Z)

armor

There are times when the acridity in my voice is castrating. I have been known to slice steel with my remarks. Why? From where do these hateful remarks come? I think I know. Somewhere behind my gold-plated ARMOR is a woman who feels she must cut before being cut. She must strike before being struck. She must destroy before being destroyed.This woman protects the child within. This woman relies on a sniper to dutifully guard the seemingly fragile child. Even in times of peace, the sniper is alert in a Cold War, awaiting any onslaught, any perceived threat.Duty calls!

Nevertheless, due to new and thoughtfully-placed boundaries that the woman had been sorely lacking in the past, the child begins to thrive and grow. Day by day, the woman observes the inverse relationship between appropriate boundary-setting and the decreased need for the sniper. The woman observes the newfound beauty that arises in the child when the sniper no longer feels the need to protect or retaliate. The woman is taking off her armor. The woman is trusting herself to set appropriate boundaries. The woman is protecting the child. The sniper is becoming unnecessary. Safety is returning. The child is losing its fragility. The woman is taking her seat at the head of her life’s table.