Every day my pups and I head out for an hour or so to release the poops and the Ya-Yas before I head to work and they laze about at home. Depending on the time of year, we may revel in the sunrise or enjoy the chorus of birds looking for love, or like today - view the path through a cylinder of foggy light shining from my headlamp.
We are fortunate enough to be surrounded by an urban trail system and have several routes to choose from. We try to vary the routes daily to stave off any boredom of "the usual". We all enjoy seeing a pair of glowing eyes of a night critter in the dark brush or the deep thuds beneath our feet as a group of deer flee our threatening presence. For Meg and Dobby and their talented noses, varying the route can bring sniff perks as well. Duck poop by the pond is always a favorite, and the occasional beaver scent gives them a huge puppy-thrill. The forested trails bring familiar odors of squirrel, deer, and raccoon crossings with dog nostrils pressed against the leaves, brains calculating how much time has passed since the animal crossed the path. The most exciting walks include a coyote sighting/smelling and we have to pause as they inspect the area with their noses squished against anything the wild dog-relative may have stepped on, touched with its own snout or brushed with its gamey fur.
On this particular morning, lacking the sensory expertise of my pups, I decided I was bored and chose to take a trail BACKWARD! This choice strangely felt revolutionary because we tend to stumble out the door in a sleepy brain fog and follow a route the way we have always followed a route. When I turned right instead of left, I felt a tug on the leashes. Dobby, my nervous one, looked up at me and I swear I saw her lips muttering, "but...but....we can't do that!". With my patient encouragement she and Meg led the way DOWN a trail that we normally climb UP.
After the initial confusion, the pups fell back into their rhythm of trot, sniff, trot, pee, sniff and all was well. It was ME who felt bewildered. When we reached a turn, my brain said, "How are we here already?" Descending a muddy trail that we normally climb, I was surprised at the pitch and slippy-slidey mud, and was forced to pay attention to where and how I stepped - actually using my conscious brain to navigate the terrain. Once back to the alley that led home, I viewed homes and gardens from a completely different perspective, as if it wasn't my familiar neighborhood of the last 20 years.
This walk felt different. We were no longer stuck in the rut of the same-old-same-old. We appreciated different things from new perspectives. After we returned home, my dogs settled into the snoring of paw-twitching dreams, and I noticed that my brain was refreshed with a new approach to the day. Maybe the word "backward" gets a bad rap. When we are bored or feeling "stuck", simply turning a different way, taking the opposite direction on an old path or looking at life from a new angle can bring a fresh outlook on the old and familiar.
On the journey through our days
Backward or Forward
It's our choice how to view it