A change in my life late, I have a Navigator in the car when Maria and I drive. Red is usually in the back seat, he lies there and does not move rain or shine, perhaps he is hiding from the animal police, who patrol parking lots for hot dogs. Red stays out of sight. Fate does not. She has her rear paws on the back seat, her front paws on the plastic separator between the two front seats. She scans the landscape with great and unflagging vigilance, for this her ears are down on either side, one of the many positions her ears take during the course of the day.
Once in awhile, she turns to lick Maria on the cheek or to chew on my ear, which she is fond of doing. Mostly, she has the border collie fixation on movement and shapes, especially those moving past us. I like having a navigator, I feel a bit like Lord Nelson on his flagship. Once in awhile, she goes back to chew on Red, mostly she doesn’t move a muscle.
Joseph Campbell once wrote that we must be willing to get rid of the life we planned and hoped for, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin, he wrote, has to be shed before the new one can come.
This, I think is true. If we fix too much on the old, on what we wanted, what we lost, what we failed to achieve, our mind turns to wrinkles. When we hang onto any such form, we are in danger of putrefying, of drying up, we will add the smell of decay to the process of aging.
Destruction before creation.
When I was young, I never imagined being 68. It is hard for me to believe it now. I have shed more than one old skin, and I imagine I have a few more to go. I do not care to get stuck in life, trapped by the expectations of others, enslaved by false illusions and fear.
Getting older is different than I thought it might be. I am learning something about life, sharing what I have learned, doing some good. I have shed a lot of the anger and the fear that dominated so much of life. I have learned not to throw people away. I am learning to have and love friends.I am letting go, I have little time for anger and argument, I have not enough time left for that. I am learning how to love and be loved. I am learning, every day, how to open up. I am learning who I am, and finally loving who I am.
I had a dream the other night, a birthday dream, I think, that I was on a sinking ship and people were boarding a lifeboat, and there were only two people left on the ship, me and a small boy. The captain said there was only room for one of us. An easy decision, I said, stepping off, I am 68, I have lived a full life, you have to take the boy. Maria was on the boat, she looked at me, and she understood. I woke up in tears, not at the thought of sinking with the ship, but of saying goodbye to her.
For me, hell is living in the old skin, drying up, mummifying, buying into all the old lies: there is security in money, a million dollars will protect me in my old age, the world is going to hell, the young are getting dumb, everyone on the earth is trying to screw me, we need to bomb people into acceptance and submission, we must hate what is strange to us, what we disagree with.
I don’t wish to be a hoarder, the one that wants to hold on, the hoarder inside has to die, not the rest of me.
If I cling to the form of life I have now, I will not be able to move forward, to the next form of life. And I know what I want, to make peace with myself, to face the full truth about myself, to live a creative life, a simpler life, a strong life. So perhaps I am like a wise old snake, shedding his skin along the trail, only to emerge with a shiny new one.
I meet this birthday head on, I will not speak poorly of it, or cluck my head at the passage of time, or look back too much on my life. Nothing can be made out of perfection, every good process in life involves picking up the pieces and putting them back together again.
So that’s my birthday message for myself. The privilege of a lifetime is being who I am.
An interesting week ahead. My birthday is Saturday, I have arranged a sort of home-made birthday celebration. Tomorrow (Thursday,) we set out for Dover, Vermont. I am speaking at the annual Dessert Social at the Dover Library, 7 to 9 p.m. I asked if a lot of folks would be watching the presidential debate, but the organizers sort of chuckled and said, no, that wouldn’t be a problem.
At first, I declined the kind invitation, I said it was too close to my birthday. But then, since funds are scarce, I had this idea. How about giving me two a room at a nice inn in Vermont for two days instead of a speaking fee. They happily agreed, so we head out for two days. I will actually be home at the farm on my birthday, Saturday, but we’ll celebrate it a bit on Thursday. I will be 68 – wow.
I am not all that big on birthdays, it is no achievement to grow older each year, we all do it. I downloaded two mysteries and a novel (Infinite Home, by Kathleen Alcott) on my Kindle, Maria and I are exhausted and we are looking forward to two days of reading and disconnecting from the outer world.
Next week, Sunday through Tuesday or Wednesday, I am turning off the blog and focusing on finishing my next book, “Talking To Animals,” I need to focus on it for a bit, and the blog is sometimes just two much in my head. For nearly two years, I wrote several times a week about the New York Carriage Horses.
That controversy is quieting, at least for now. The mayor’s effort to ban the horses has failed quite spectacularly, and the horses are not speaking to me every night, as they were. They must feel good about their status. I have a genius for writing about things I don’t get paid for, but this was a labor of love for me. It did push back my book writing a bit, I have to bear down now and finish it. I am very excited about it.
The horses awakened me to a much broader issue, the deepening conflict between people who have animals and people who have pets. I have also been drawn to the ongoing story of Joshua Rockwood, a young farmer from Glenville, N.Y., who I believe has been unjustly accused of animal cruelty. He is now a bit in limbo, waiting for the judge to rule on a number of motions. At some point, unless the charges are dismissed, as they should be, the trial will resume.
I am a blogger now as much or more as a book author, but I love books and love being an author, so I need to pay attention to that for a couple of days. When I wake up in the morning, my head is full of posts I need to put up and photos I need to take. I need for my head to be full of my book for a day or so. So early next week, the blog will be quieter than usual, I will post in the evenings.
Red and Henry, (Connie Brook’s son, she is the owner of Battenkill Books) had a staring contest at the bookstore today when I went to sign copies of the paperback edition of Saving Simon. I think Red won, he has a longer attention span than Henry. When I looked over, Henry was lying on top of Red, hugging him. If you wish to have a copy of Saving Simon signed and personalized – there is a free signed postcard of Simon, one of my photos – you can call Battenkill Books at 518 677-7136, or visit their website. I signed a bunch today, thank you, and thank you for the generous words.
I call Red the best dog, as much as I love Fate, I believe Red is one of the great dogs in my life. He is easy, loving, patient and faithful. I sat with my friend Scott Carrino out in the back near the fallen tree and Red went over to the gate and lay down and watched me and waited for me.
Red is always at my side, always appropriate, affectionate. I love having two such disparate dogs, Red and Fate are the polar opposites of one another. They also love one another, each helps define the other, I think. I know Fate will be a great dog, but I will never have a greater dog than Red. I trust him completely, anywhere, with anyone.
