Olive has inspired me to create another word.
Filthing verb
Definition of filthing:
1. Gleefully smearing one’s entire body with mud and debris, then transporting said debris inside to flick, rub and wipe it all over one’s domicile.
Good grief with all the snow, then melt, then big rain there aren’t enough cleaning rags in the country to keep up with Livvy. She has created ruts in the yard that fill with water and she rips through them like an outboard motor – “chhkk chhkkk chhkkk”, filth flying (here’s a vid). She then explodes through the pet door all smiles and joy. I yelp a fast and firm, “Wait!” while I get a towel before she goes too far inside. She smiles, stretches, gives me kisses while I rub her down, “tsk tsk” and call her Mud Pie.
Fortunately, Freya, in classic Ridgeback form, finds mud quite distasteful and she tiptoes around it as best she can. Thank goodness for my cordless vacuum cleaner and mop. And, thank goodness for all the love. The filthy joyful monkey is totally worth all the mopping.
On an unrelated note, tonight, I’ll be leading a Burning Bowl ceremony in which we’ll focus our intentions about things we want to release and not carry into the new year. This can be old memories, habits, relationships, ways of thinking, or all of the above! We’ll write these down on a slip of paper and then burn the paper in ritual.
I intend to release all attack thoughts. One of the many propound concepts in A Course in Miracles is that every judgment, certainly every condemnation that we hold toward others is an attack thought. Going a step further, every thought of self-doubt, guilt, or powerlessness is an attack on ourself, because it shows we are failing to remember who and what we truly are.
What about you? Do you want to share what you intend to release going into 2023?
FYI, you can do your own version of a burning bowl ceremony right in your own home.
Here’s to dogs, releasing what no longer serves, and thriving in the New Year.
Cylvia, Livvy and Lotta Dog