She loved us with every cell of her being, and wasn't ever afraid to show it.

Broken hearts do heal. But first they teach.

My family’s beloved English Spring Spaniel Shadow died this morning, and I am so, so sad.

And also aware of joy, for the joy she brought my entire family—five Shadow-smitten people who consistently reveled in her doggy-ness. She was our entertainment, our therapist, our walking-buddy, our fuzzy little companion.

Her most recent gift to me is the reminder that compassion is born not just of choice, but of staying present to the broken heart. I choose neither to wallow with obsessive thinking and what-ifs nor run away by indulging vices or shutting down emotionally.

“Just this,” one of my favorite Buddhist authors, Geri Larkin, would say. “Just this.” My 12-step buddies would say, “Right foot. Left foot. Breathe.” 

I never want to be one of those people who can blow off the sorrow and sufferings of others. So, for today, I receive the gift of grief, let it open my heart, and revel in the miracles my higher power has given me—most especially my soft-as-velvet pal with the floppy ears and the big brown spaniel eyes.

See what I mean? I spent 10 minutes taking this, including time for make-up. And there's no one here but me and the dog. And the computer, of course! Oh, but I did have fun!

Is anyone else feeling totally bombarded? I mean, I hate to add to the glut of chatter about the information glut. But I’m afraid I have to.

It all started with this wonderful new computer. Oh, the places you can go! Oy vey. I can do all kinds of things at once…and rather than balking and complaining like its predecessor, it just about hugs me back!

But, Oh, the places you can go! About the second hour after it was set up, my future flashed in front of me. OMG. MORE to say no to. My old computer didn’t run video. In the past, when someone sent some darn thing that might be fun to watch but would suck another five minutes of my life out through my eyeballs, all I had to do was borrow my son’s laptop, or shrug off the must-see material and do without. Most of the time, I did without.

And that was a good thing. There’s plenty of way cool stuff out there, for sure. BUT I CAN’T TAKE IT ALL IN!

No one can.

And, there’s some scary stuff to avoid. Seriously. I mean, there’s someone tweeting stupid stuff people do. I spent five minutes on there before I realized I was about to click on some videos that might take me where I never, ever want to go.

Which brings me to the no’s. Check e-mails every five minutes? No. Goof around on Facebook? No!  Noodle through YouTube looking for Phil Phillips’ latest? No, no, no! There is work to be done.

I was on the computer in the middle of hunting for a job this morning, when all of a sudden, my evil twin said, “You’ve been working hard for two whole hours. Why don’t you see what TV shows you could watch on this new babe?” I was actually five minutes into an old Daily Show when I heard, “No!” Whew. Narrow escape.

Ladies and gents, children of all ages, we have reached the age of the 10,000 no’s a day. It’s about survival. It’s about keeping our brains from frying.

I read about a couple, a high-tech, plugged-in duo, who turn off EVERY BIT OF TECH from Friday night to Sunday. Whoo whee! Now that’s saying no. And the result, they said, is they get to actually, like, talk to each other, making eye contact and stuff. Nice, right?

My friend Marlyn, she gets so hijacked by all that brain-suck stuff, she doesn’t use the very nice laptop her husband bought her AT ALL. Ever. I am serious. That is one big honking NO.

She seems fine. And she’s at a stage of life where she can get away with it. (Plus, she has friends like me who fill her in about, say, the latest debacle in the elegant world of high finance.) At this point, I’m not prepared to unplug totally. I have to use my computer for work and for keeping track of friends and family.

And, truthfully, I can use a good hug now and then.

Could you say no to a face like that? Of course not!

Are you praying to God or to Santa Claus? This question was posed recently by a friend. My answer—Santa Claus. I want what I want when I want it. I want a nice, lucrative, fulfilling, helpful job delivered NOW. Is that too much to ask? I mean, seriously. What’s the problem?

I live as healthfully as I know how—eat right, exercise, get enough sleep, spend time with family, friends, and myself. I pray. I meditate, as best I can. I am kind to people and animals. I let other drivers in, and say thanks when they let me in. I hardly ever gossip, and when I do, it’s with the best intentions. I recycle. I look old people in the eye and talk to them like they’re real. I rescued a shelter dog. I send get-well cards, assay the right things at memorial services and keep my lawn mowed. On a daily basis, I try to be grateful for all that’s real in my life. In short, I shouldn’t be on the naughty list. So.

Aren’t I OWED? Am I not good enough? What I am doing wrong?

Nothing, friends tell me. Nothing at all. You are right where you’re supposed to be.

Ewwww. I hate that. Don’t you hate that?

However, as the saying goes from Recovery Incorporated (RI) (a self-help group that relies what feels like a kind of cognitive therapy): You can’t be comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. Unemployment is miserable. I wake up in the morning and I have no place to go, no routine, no specific purpose. Not to mention, um, no income. NO ONE IN HER RIGHT MIND WOULD ENJOY THIS!!!! DUH.

OKAY. I’ve been in a perpetual tantrum. I thought I was mad at God. Turns out I was mad at Santa Claus. Shadow boxing, anyone? I’m mad at someone who does not exist.

It might be helpful, instead, to take actions, however small, toward resolution of this ugly stuckness. Plan my days, one day at a time. Plan for sure and determined action (RI again). Remind myself that any decision is better than no decision.

And it would probably be a good idea to stop being mad at myself. I didn’t cause or create this situation. Neither did Santa Claus. As for God, well, that’s the question, isn’t it? When my Mom broke the news to me about the Christmas Santa (as opposed to the unemployment Santa), she did a really good thing. She said, “Santa Claus isn’t a real person. But he’s the spirit in us that wants to give to people.”

Now that’s a Santa, I mean, God, I can get behind. Or, rather, that I can agree to have backing me up. Okay, God. I’m listening. And listening. And listening… It’s just that, could you speak up just a little louder? I’m just saying….