Nothing, really.

Deviating from my usual indoor routines, I stepped out into the sunshine this afternoon, fully intending on taking a little detour through the nearby woodsy area and sit languidly beside a stream, while reading my book.

The dogs had other plans for me.

As soon as I exited from my cave (my horrendously messy room) and stepped into the backyard, they eagerly rushed towards me. Bailey’s butt was shaking back and forth at warp speed and Diego, with his signature single-mindedness, was pushing his slobber covered, floppy red Frisbee on my leg. Diego dropped the slime covered thing on my bare foot, and looked up at me expectantly with watchful doggie grin. Meanwhile, the little Maltese mix my roommates and I are babysitting danced excitedly around, trying not to get squished.

I abstained from throwing the toy and stared back at Diego, smiling, waiting to see his next move. Bailey took this showdown as an opportunity to grab her ball and come back wriggling in sheer happiness. Diego looked down at the Frisbee in confusion, as if astonished that it hadn’t moved of it’s own accord by now, and nudged it with his long nose impatiently toward my foot, his eyes never leaving the red disc. Nudge, nudge. Nudge.

I giggled to myself and backed up, watching him. Ooh, a nudge and a bark this time! Jumping forward and batting me with both his front feet, Diego barked his wants at me. He ripped his eyes away from the Kong Frisbee for only a second to glance up at me anxiously and butt me with his head.

Unable to resist the elation and play of the pups, I grabbed both the ball and frisbee, at once deserting my plans for a nature walk and changing them to an afternoon in the backyard. I threw Bailey’s ball on one side of the yard and Diego’s Frisbee to the other. They both sprinted off, sublimely happy for that moment in time. Bailey’s ball bounced off the fence and she leapt her large body straight up off the ground, twisting to snatch the ball right out of the air. Diego, lithe and inexplicably fleet, beat the Frisbee and spun to catch it. All lean muscle and sinew, he resembles a cross between a Short-haired German Pointer and a Whippet. The boy can fly. They both returned to me and quickly dropped their toys at my feet, completely ignoring the tiny, still dancing Maltese mix, Toby.

Grabbing up the toys, I repeated my previous throws and spent the next 30 minutes trying not to accidentally toss the damn things into the neighbors’ yards.  Bailey, panting heavily, finally stopped at my feet and keeping her ball safely in her mouth, dropped unceremoniously  onto the cool, freshly cut grass. Diego, he of the unlimited energy, was also out of breath and content to temporarily accept my pushing away of the Frisbee. After a quick glance to ensure no piles of dog crap were underneath me, I took my cue from Bailey. Stretching out on the lawn, I rubbed her black fur idly with one hand and ran my fingers through the newly shorn grass with the other.

Sounds from the neighborhood swelled around me, intermingling with the heavy pants from the dogs. Shouts, from kids and parents alike,  broke the relative quiet of the late afternoon. They were accompanied by lawnmowers and  weed wackers, all blending together into a relaxing low hum. The sweet smells of cut grass and barbecue lingered in the strong wind, which countered the warm sunshine perfectly.

In that moment, if only for just that second, all the things that have been weighing me down so much lately, lifted and I was free. I distinctly remembered doing this very thing as a young kid. Lazing in the grass, listening to the sound of friends playing nearby and choosing to daydream my time away, participating in the world from a distance.  Firmly in the grips of nostalgia, I felt a flimsy ghost of the blanket of safety from my youth. The world was wide open before me then, nothing was impossible, and no dream too big. Books had opened my mind at a very young age to endless possibility and a promise of exciting adventure someday, thrilled through my bones.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the clean air through my nose, calming my heart, and absentmindedly (yet again) ran through the journey from Then to Now for the hundredth time in my head. Countless decisions, unrestrained joy and searing pain, detours and surprises litter my path. My father’s deep voice reverberates off the walls in my mind. “Jennifer, if there is a hard way to do something, you’ll find it. You’re stubborn, like me. You need to learn from others mistakes! You don’t have time to make them all on your own.”

Yes, instead of taking the path less traveled by, I took the one you have to chop down with a machete and even occasionally, bulldoze. And that has made all the difference. Brambles and wicked looking trees, prowling lions, swamps, quicksand…you name it and I’ve most likely been there.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about a few things more often than others. One is forgiveness, and the other, is the uncertain road ahead. I yearn…no, I ache  to fulfill a few of those youthful dreams I still hold so dear and the difference is now I feel the newer, unchanging pressure of time running against me. I want to start having more of an answer to the question, “Who am I?” and it is going to require something specific from me…I’m just not sure yet what that is or what direction to head in.

Shaking off these cyclical musings, I jumped up, spilling little Toby onto the ground and dusting off the dirt. The pups jumped up with me and we started another game. My days are often this way, as of late.  Filled with these thoughts, I mean. Something’s trying to happen inside me and I’m not going to be happy until I get it all sorted out.