Old Man Winter has gotten a little greedy this year. If it’s not snowing or freezing rain, then it’s freezing outside. If none of those are happening, then an arctic wind makes it feel utterly miserable.
And poor Rico and Roxy are miserable. Ergo, I’m miserable. Especially on our erratic walks.
Usually, R&R are the envy of the neighborhood. Twice daily walks mean we have our rhythm down pat.
But since we’ve been walking to the beat of winter’s drum, our timing has been off. Couple that with all of the scrumptious scents frozen in the snow and you have a recipe for a walk that’s more like a series of stops-and-starts punctuated by my constant chiming of “Come on, guys, let’s go.”
When we do get going, they are off in different directions, as if they’ve totally forgotten there’s a rope linking all of us together. Thank goodness for tai chi, which I use to protect my shoulders from being yanked out of socket and my knees from being wrung out. (I’ll be posting about that soon.)
It’s really easy to lose my temper. The embarrassment, the pain, the cold – Lord, the cold! – I just want to get around the block and back inside before my nose starts running like a faucet.
But I had a reality check recently.
My tai chi coach wants me to get back into the ranking system of the International Yang Family Tai Chi Chuan Association. (I’m ranked right in the middle, but the ranks above me take years to achieve.)
To do so, I have to start practicing the forms for the sword and saber again. I knew both well enough to make rank before. Even though I hadn’t done them in more than year, I thought it would be like riding a bike.
I didn’t even know what move to get out of the opening stance. Complete blank.
So, after being out of practice walking as a pack, why would I expect Rico and Roxy to remember their manners if I can’t even remember any move from two forms I knew well enough to make rank?
Looks like we could all use a bit more compassion.