The last two nights I’ve posted my blogs between two and three in the morning. And whereas I’m a self-professed night owl, this seriously can’t happen tonight. Therefore, I’m writing now, at five in the evening. However, since I have somewhere to be at six, this has got to be short. I’ve got this hangup about thinking things must be a certain way–perfect–but if the dog I’m house sitting for can spend three hours every morning in the bed next to me licking himself, then I can do myself the kindness of writing a shorter blog.

But seriously, he licks himself SO MUCH. His slurping is SO LOUD.

Maybe I’ve just gotten hyper sensitive to sounds in my old age.

Maybe I’m jealous.

While I’m talking about this dog, y’all, you should see him. I don’t know what breed he is, but he’s big. That’s it, he’s a big breed. A little dinosaur, really. Anyway, twice I day I wrangle him into his collar and leash, and we walk around the neighborhood. No, I take that back, he DRAGS me around the neighborhood. And whereas I stay MOSTLY in control, there are times when my left knee (the one I had surgery on) isn’t quite “with it.” Sometimes when he’s surprised and darts toward a squirrel or another dog, it’s all I can do to keep my shoulder in its socket.

Naturally, this situation is frustrating. Behave! I think. But the fact is the dog simply hasn’t been TRAINED to sit still when having its collar and leash put on or to HEEL while walking. Short of this training, of course, he’s just a wild beast. A savage animal dragging around a homosexual on the beat-up streets of Fort Smith, Arkansas.

This afternoon I saw my chiropractor who works with emotions, and a word that came up was compulsive. “That’s a familiar emotion,” I said, thinking about how I stayed up for an hour last night scouring the internet for one of my favorite songs, Style by Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby. (This song used to be my alarm clock; now my alarm clock is a big dog licking himself.) And whereas I easily found the song itself, I couldn’t for the life of me find the PARTICULAR VERSION that I wanted (and used to have but lost in a hard drive crash three years ago). Anyway, I kept thinking, Just message your friend Charles in the morning. (Charles has a music library worthy of the Smithsonian.) Still, I couldn’t let it go. I kept looking and looking–to no avail. Thankfully–finally–I gave up and went to bed.

The good news–Charles had what I was looking for and more (outtakes, etc.). If you’re interested, the BASIC song is below. What’s missing and what I have now–thanks, Chuck–is the part where, just after singing this whole song about dressing up and having style and class, Dean Martin says, “Come on, get some clothes on or we’ll be late for breakfast.” Hilarious.

Getting back to the idea of being compulsive, it occurs to me that if you’re in the habit of obsessing or worrying about something or someone, it’s just because your mind’s been trained to drag your around–either by yourself or someone else (like your parents). If you’re NOT calm and peaceful, especially when you’re simply sitting in a perfectly calm and peaceful living room staring at your computer, it’s only because you haven’t trained yourself to be. This is where the practices of slowing down, being mindful, and meditation come in. Any sort of discipline will work. My mind used to kick up a fuss about sitting down and writing every day, but now it’s just the way it is. I actually get excited about it. At least with respect to blogging, my mind has learned to heel.

Or, if you prefer, to heal.