Things My Dog Teaches Me, the New Podcast (SUBSCRIBE!) and IGTV (FOLLOW!)

Gypsi… Dog and sometimes Yogi

While I am taking on some freelance work hither and thither, the bulk of my creative energy is being used on … well... being creative. It occurred to me that all the stuff I poured into working towards other people's visions could have been poured into my work, my vision.

It also occurred to me that this is a more natural process... feeding my energy back into my talents, and my gifts is a self-sustaining cycle. Feeding all of that into other people's projects... even projects I like … may feed my stomach, but it draws too close to the bottom of the spiritual well.

And so, here I am. If you missed last week's post about my mostly daily poetry posts on Instagram, check that out here... and jump over to IG and check out my posts. I'm also playing around with IGTV over there. Stop in and give some love, some comments, and pass along.

I've also started a new podcast project: A Record of a Well Worn Pair of Boots: The Podcast, hosted on Podbean. If you look up in the tabs, you can see a new page here with an embedded player. Please give it a listen, subscribe, and share. It's a short format, no frills kind of podcast.... perfect for a bus or train ride, something to listen to in the car, or just to help you get through the office grind.

I know at this point you're feeling punked. What about the fucking dog? you're saying. Well, here she  is:

the thing is that while I get a lot of benefit from my meditation and workout routine, the fact is I learn the most from the world around me... in this case, my dog, Gypsi. She was a rescue when we got her and is 5 years old. Part Catahoula, part Blue Heeler, with a dab of Lab thrown in, she's a wonderful bunch of sometimes over active fun. Unless Amanda' home, Gypsi is always with me when I work out or meditate. And unless she's grouchy (usually about an hour before bedtime), she's always ready to play. And here's what she taught me today while kicking my ass with her downward facing dog:

• Live in hope (because you just never know) and gratitude (because sometimes you do!);
• Always be happy to see the people you love and who love you;
• Try and have at least one really good, squeaky toy.

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Pre-Fancy Farm Update

I haven't taken a road trip without Walt Whitman since I left Mount Carroll in January 2012.

The penguin pocket edition of the 1885 version of "Song of Myself" -- which has slight differences from the deathbed edition version people are most accustomed to -- fits perfectly in ruck or pocket. I've read through it multiple times on the road. It's the version that inspired "Whitman By Moonlight." I've underlined and bracketed and breathed in different verses:

"I pass death with dying, and birth with the new-washed babe... an am not contained between my hate and boots,"

 I wanted to take it with us to Fancy Farm because if there is any place Walt needs to be, it's around a bunch of politicians in their natural habitat of vulturing, hand kissing, and baby-shaking. After all, Uncle Walt was a journalist. Like any poet and any journalist, he was a pre-eminent muckraker... finding the story wherever it's buried.

When I dug out my copy of pocket Whitman, it was in pieces. I didn't have time to tape it together, and brought it anyway. After all, Uncle Walt would not have wanted to sit out when there's proper loafing and inviting of the soul to be done among the political princes and hopefuls here in Kentucky.

"I discover myself on the verge of my usual mistake."

I'll be tweeting live from Fancy Farm, (#FancyFarm) a uniquely Kentucky political party with bbq mutton and political spitting. Follow me on twitter (@dirtysacred) for current coverage of Mitch McConnell's under bite and the acute absence of Rand Paul. I'll leave you with a few inspirational words of Uncle Walt's:

"The sound of the belched words of my voice... words loosed to the eddies of the wind,
 A few light kisses... a few embraces... a reaching around of arms..."

we're all in this together, Dear Friends and Readers.