Raison d'Etre

"The world, like a great iris of an even more gigantic eye, which has also just opened and stretched out to encompass everything, stared back at him."..."No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now. Time hypnotizes. When you're nine, you think you've always been nine years old and will always be. When you're thirty, it seems you've always been balanced there on that bright rim of middle life. And then when you turn seventy, you are always and forever seventy. You're in the present, you're trapped in a young now or an old now, but there is no other now to be seen."

Ray Bradbury

The quote above really captures what it means to exist in the present. And it's great motivation when juicing. I made this morning's juice for myself and my sweet husband and then sent him off to his day of work. I'm writing this snuggled up with my Great Dane, Sheba and I'm trying desperately to think of things that have nothing to do with green juice or anything I might wish to stuff in my face. So, I'll write about Sheba. She can be my muse for today since she's the one going through this day with me.

I often learn a lot from my Sheba girl. More than I might expect to learn through a dog. You see, Sheba hasn't had an easy life at all. When she came to us, she had just had her final litter of puppes. She was the puppy mill. She had countless litters of puppies and was finally found on the side of the road so emaciated they had no idea she was pregnant until she delivered 7 healthy puppies. She was taken in by Rocky Mountain Great Dane Rescue and we found her through her puppies actually. 

The thing I learn through her most is based in how much her life exists in the present. No matter what she's been through, she simply exists in the moment she's given immediately. That doesn't mean she doesn't process things from before and she certainly anticipates what's coming (she loves meal time and reminds us about it long before the time comes each day). But her life isn't eternally marred by regret of the things she's lost because of her less-than-ideal past. And it's not ruined based on the uncertainty of her future. If she's warm, comfy, and with her humans, she's happy.

Above and to the right is a picture of Sheba soon after we brought her home. She didn't know how to play. When we gave her toys, she tried to nurse them since that was the only thing she knew to do. After lots of love and time, she finally started playing. The pictures on the left show the first time she ever played. And boy did she let loose and play with abandon. 

Sure she used to have nightmares and she'd wake up panting really hard. And she'd have post-traumatic freak-outs at other dogs. And she was turned away by bunches of trainers before we found the incredible Lisa Sickles. Sheba had to process her past, but it didn't mean she forgot to live in the present. She processed her past when she needed to, and she let it go when she didn't have to carry it.

Sheba's first day in Africa. She was
the size of their livestock.

Sheba with me after her bath
time at our compound in
Guinea-Bissau.

I'd love to tell you that the hard times in Sheba's life were over when she came to live with us, but she had difficult things in front of her, too. After a couple years, we moved with Sheba to Africa. We went to a small country called Guinea-Bissau in West Africa. You can read about that journey on another blog if you want to. It's a whole story of its own right. But for this, I want to focus on Sheba. She journeyed with us to a place she knew nothing about. She went because we were her people, she trusted us, and it was a journey we needed her to go on with us. And ever moment she was there, she lived in the present. She did much better than I did at not missing her old life. She adapted to what was around her because she was present in each moment, not concerned about what had been or what would be.

To the left are pictures of Sheba after a bath and also helping me with laundry. 

Sheba in a sept place on her ride back
to Dakar, Senegal on her trip home.

During Sheba's transit from here to Washington DC, she tore her ACL. We prayed for her. Her vet told us it would take a long time for it to heal. The vet said when she was able to walk on it, we'd know she was fine. We were flying to Africa in two days. So much not enough time for it to heal. And yet, the next day, she was running. To her, it wasn't incredible. She was just in the moment. Running. We were stunned.

Our first several weeks in Africa, I spent hours each day pulling over 100 ticks per day off of her body. Next, her face and ears swelled and she struggled to breathe. Then her ears developed hematomas, and those healed in a day with no surgical intervention. We kept our US vet on Skype calls a lot and she kept being amazed at how Sheba healed faster than she should. It should have taken weeks for the hematomas to subside with steroids alone. Again, we were surprised because we lived in teh reality of the past

Sheba's first day back in the USA.
Lots of sleeping.

Family picture in Africa.

While she was there with us, she chased away would-be robbers more than once. She was ferocious when she needed to be and loving the rest of the time. Who would think a Great Dane of all dogs would be the one to do all of this? 

We moved home early, and we went through tons of hoops to make sure she came home with us. Oddly, getting a gigantic dog to West Africa is simpler than bringing that dog home. But it happened and with the help of my dad, we were by her at every turn. 

The thing about Sheba's journey that strikes me most is that she went through it one moment at a time not knowing what the next moment would hold. See, for you and me, juicers, we know that if we stick to our plan, we'll see the results we want. We know what's ahead if we succeed, and if we fail. 

To the left is a picture of Sheba hiding under a bed during her first week in Africa. She spent a lot of her time in this spot that week. She wasn't sure what was happening and she felt safest in this spot. So sure, she was scared, but she never gave up. Each day, she remained herself. She enjoyed the sunshine, the company of her people, and good homemade food. She defended us and protected us. And she did come out from under the bed when she was ready, and she never crawled back under there. She allowed herself to spend the time she needed under that bed, and then she moved on. She spent four months in Africa and with each day, she grew more confident and content, regardless of the things she faced. 

We can push through, too. We have goals, and unlike Sheba, we've set our goals for ourselves. We're in control of the choices that affect our lives. There might be hurt in our past that's driven us to places of imbalance. For me there are. If that's the case for you, too, it's okay if you've spent some time hiding under the bed. I did. And then it's time to crawl out, be the best version of yourself you can be at each moment you're given. Combine those moments, and I'm sure we'll find we've met our goals. 

After Sheba came home, we put her in "retirement" as we recovered from the jolting disappointment of having to be home early. She was given nothing but walks, love, attention, and the best we could provide. We recognized that her life had been exceptional to that point, and as with any good service dog, she was given the best of retirement. But that's not to say her dark days were all behind her.

The picture on the left is of Sheba after one of the darkest days of her entire life...the key word here is after. The picture on the right is of Sheba in the middle of that worst day of her life. Sheba has had two major medical procedures. (So thankful for pet insurance through Healthy Paws--they've covered 90% of our expenses.) They were both cases where the vet wanted to publish her in medical journals afterward. Sheba is a miracle. I'm not sure why, I just know she is. Just as she made it through her travels in Africa, she kept the same indomitable spirit and her healing was nothing short of a miracle.

She went to the vet for stomach discomfort, and the x-ray showed slight hints of a possible twisted bowel. A twisted bowel isn't that big a deal. Her stomach had already been stapled to her side and so couldn't flip and the bowel isn't an emergency. So she went to a kennel and waited a couple hours as they prepped her for surgery. The picture on the right in the orange blanket is from that time of waiting. We waited moment by moment. And so did she. And none of us knew what would come of the waiting. We waited with her until they said we had to go home. It was midnight. Four hours later, we found out she had a medical anomaly that involved the twisting of all of the intestine matter around the blood supply to the Sheba's organs. It takes 8 minutes from when the intestines twist to when the tissue dies and the dog is as good as dead. That means usually when x-rays have been taken and read, it's already too late. The doctor has never seen a dog with this condition and they survive about 1% of the time. The vet kept telling us what a miracle it was that any dog would survive this, but especially a geriatric Great Dane. 

Sheba fell asleep playing with a bone.

Camping in a cabin a couple
months after her surgery.

She went through the difficulty moment by moment. And she lives presently in whatever moment she's in. It just so happens that her moments since that day have added up to an entire year. We estimate she's now between 8 and 10.5 years old. Very old for a Great Dane. But she just never quits. She wants to hike, and snuggle, and go camping, and play with the cat. 

Sheba leading us on a hike.

I really think that I'd benefit from being more like Sheba. This is one day of a juice fast. It's day 3. And I have control over only the things I'll do right now. I'm going to take the Sheba approach and make this moment count.

I don't regret moments gone by. I acknowledge that, as the Bradbury quote above says, we're living ever and only in the present moment. We have no other choice but to fully live in that moment. So we reach within ourselves and make the most of those moments. If not, we waste them. And they're not going to come back. I am so thankful to see the gray hairs on my Sheba's face because I know each one means she's lived another moment. 

So maybe today is tough for you. Embrace it. It'll make you stronger. Fight for your life because you're worth it and so is your life.

This is a battle for your life. I'm guessing you're like me and you're not doing a juice fast because you are curious what it feels like to live on liquid food for a long duration of time. That's the case for me. And I'm hoping to reset everything, not just my body. I'd like a total reset to my way of thinking. My approach to goals, to food, and to my own personal value.

I've recently stumbled on some very painful memories from my past and I need to heal from it. I am on a journey and, like Sheba, I will embrace each part of it. I will walk through it living presently in each moment. And when it's over, I hope to arrive at a new place, though still in the middle of a journey.