Thoughts drift with the smoke
I need to carry a small voice recorder with me. On runs. On rides. So many thoughts and ideas meander through my head during these workouts, yet minutes later - well before I get home to my computer - poof! they're gone, no longer fodder for blog entries or articles.
This morning I rode to Secesh Summit. The girls were happy to stay home, indoors, on cool floors. A thin haze of wild fire smoke hung in the air, prompting me to look inward as I rode.
Nearly two hours I had, in my own company, my mind wandering freely, thoughts wafting away through the smoky air.
Climbing inexorably toward the summit, one train of thought did stick with me: the ephemeral notion of hope. We humans perhaps hope for too much. But do dogs hope? Do they hope for concrete things like a fresh bone, a hike, a trip to the treat-dispensing bank drive-through? Do they hope for abstract concepts, like happiness, fulfillment, and love, as we do? Or are they masters at simply accepting, with grace, what each day brings, reveling in the good, ignoring the bad, literally going at this thing we call life one day at a time?
Do they get their hopes up? Do they get their hopes dashed?
Do they hope for love, or just give it and accept it, unconditionally?
I think I think too much sometimes. And I often think - wish, hope - life were as simple for me as it appears to be for the girls. I want their life. I want the gift of appoaching each day and all it might bring in such a straighforward manner, unladen with quixotic hopes and expectations. Just open to what is. It's all good.