Who’s the Pack Leader in Your House?

by Rebecca A. Watson on February 2, 2015

in attention, Dogs, Just Be, life, perception, writing

I don’t feel all here today — like a slave, my technology has split me in two, or 17 or 24. The minutes tick by in endless moments when I put my phone down, shut off my computer and decide to police my screen time.

Neka isn’t interested in fetch. The rice boils at an agonizing pace. After a few measures of Clementi I realize the kids below us are probably asleep (never mind the silent feature).

I’m distracted with a million things I say I want to do but not one of them can hold my attention, slippery as a greased pig, for more than a few minutes. My phone dings and I wonder what my puppy thinks it is — this tiny gadget I’m beholden too.

Is this the real pack leader? A small box Rebecca picks up without fail when it barks?

What does she think of Sante and me staring into screen after screen all day, our bellies exposed in submission to a machination of noises, light and clichéd mayhem?

macbook

Yes of course we go outside. Of course we walk in the Black Forest. Of course we throw Blue Buddy and chase her and play foot tag. But our habits are more in focus now.

Maybe because there’s another beating heart in the house. Maybe because we bought a piano and it seems a crime to leave it silent in favor of a video from Buzzfeed. (Although this seems relevant.)

Or maybe I just need to accept that there are times I want to rewatch Brave, and when I do I should relish it, exist only in that moment. I see myself split into 27 dimensions, each of which I’m trying to exist simultaneously.

I’m only a shadow of myself as I scrub the bathtub, count (was that really 14?) leg presses at the Fitnessstudio, knit the final row on Ece’s baby blanket. I am energy fragmented.

be present

 

Back, back I call them. Netflix is cardio is dusting is Duolingo is meditation.

With each one returning I become more in color, more in focus — like an old TV set adjusting, the rabbit ears needing just a bit more of a turn.

As the 27th self comes back to me, I feel, like in a video game, my power back to full strength. Langsam langsam, as my hairstylist would say. There is no finish line here.

This is part of my 2015 goal to write more and differently. If you want to read more about that, click here.

Photo credit: Hartwig HKD

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