Skeeters and silkworms nearly did me in.

Okay, so that might be a slight exaggeration.

But they were a part of this recent slide, one that culminated when I fell and busted my knee, a few hours after getting stung by a bee (and no, a fun rhyme this isn’t supposed to be). The salt in the wound of the sting/stumble combo was that it was at Cedar Point, yes that magical land that still transforms me to a whimsical child each and every time I cross into its sacred peninsula.

The bee was a simple case of the little guy sneaking up under a wristband I was wearing and when I moved in a way that threatened him, ZAP! And apparently, as I’ve aged, I’ve lost my ability to handle a bee sting as it itched and throbbed for the next five days.

Falling down, well that was a simple case of all me, traipsing across a wooden planter to save myself three whole seconds of travel time while, get this, staring into my phone while I was walking. So I walked right off the ledge and fell fairly hard, leading to Wende standing over me asking if my ankle was okay.

“Yep,” I said, surveying the damage on my knee, which took the brunt of the blow, as well as my hand and elbow.

“Are you okay?” she asked as I hopped up and, aside from my wounded pride and a slightly swollen knee, answered yes.

Two days earlier, standing in the middle of my office and looking at one of my favorite coffee cups – a scene with the Peanuts gang walking happily along, Snoopy leading the way – shattered to pieces on the floor in front of me, I didn’t yet realize that was a metaphor for what was happening before and after that moment.

Laying in bed that evening after the bee sting and fall, icing my knee, I thought back to that moment with the coffee cup. Heading into a 10-day vacation the following day, I guess maybe I wasn’t completely engaged in the moment before me and my head was elsewhere. Maybe my head was already on vacation, maybe I was trying to think four tasks ahead like I often do at work. Whatever the case, I wasn’t in the moment.

And that’s when it fully hit me: oops…I did it again (cue Britney Spears music).

I let myself get away from being present in the moment, and lost my grip on the practice of mindfulness. Now, it’s not like this mindfulness thing isn’t basically drummed into my head at this point. I have reminders all over my office. It was a recurring theme throughout Lucy’s Way: A Dog, A Drunk, and The Tao. My focus during walks with Chip is to be presently engaged in the moment. I go to a weekly mindfulness group. I am truly blessed to have these reminders of mindfulness all around me. And still, like an on and off switch, I can get so easily distracted and deterred from it i.e. mindlessness.

Rewind back to the skeeters and silkworms. That’s where this really all began, this time around.

Over the last few weeks of August, there were a few obstacles during morning and evening walks with Chip. Not for him, as he just went on about his business like nothing mattered in the world. But I was constantly walking through silkworm webs in the mornings and, once I emerged from them, waving my hands through the air like someone unhinged, the mosquitoes would set in, landing on me every 2-3 seconds and causing more unhinged waving, along with repeatedly smacking myself.

Now, I understand that both of these creatures have a purpose. Silkworms literally produce silk, they are a valued piece of our ecosystem.

And mosquitoes exist to suck every ounce of blood out of me, leaving me covered in bumps that itch so bad I want to scratch them until any blood I have left is drained out of me.

They might also exist as pollinators, an important part of the food chain, etc. but I can’t provide proof of any of those theory’s without a simple search on Google. 

So, to say the least, the last two weeks of August were definitely opportunities to practice mindfulness in our morning walks, and I sorta failed.

These walks with Chip are important. They are an evolution of the walks Lucy took me on, that I frequently discuss in the book. But they are an extension of that because with Chip, I feel like I have the added benefit of being even more aware of the importance of being in the moment.

I also have to stay alert on the walks because Chip will walk in front of me and trip me up (he does the same thing to Wende, equal opportunity offender). I dealt with this when I had Lucy, but I couldn’t recall it being to this extent. And then I actually found passages in the pages of the book that make direct reference to this.

But Chip is a stronger dog with a stronger pull, and he will yank me in a heartbeat toward a squirrel or cat or blade of grass, or particularly a nice, heaping pile of garbage. No joke, in the park recently, where they line 20-plus trash cans up at times, he looked over that scene like Heaven had just descended upon him, trying to yank me over toward Trashcan Island with his sometimes brute force.

Our walks, specifically our morning walks when there are far fewer people around, are constant reminders to stay in the moment. I’ve fully noticed the days getting shorter, a few minutes a day, which is changing our routine. I will need to think about ways to slightly adjust my work schedule here in the next few weeks as it is darker each morning.

Looking out my back window this weekend at the leaves starting to scatter the yard, there’s no doubt Autumn is beginning to rear its head.

Four days removed from the Autumnal Equinox, I was walking with Chip early yesterday morning. In that early morning walk, before the insanity of this weekend’s mix of James Dean, Ducktail Run and River Rally events began to take over the day, there was total quiet and peace, just me and Chip in the moment, experiencing the calm of being present in the exact moment.

Autumn is about letting go, and I delved into this theme in Lucy’s Way, specifically in Chapter 16: “These Days”, as I grappled with understanding the loss of Lucy as well as many other things in life.

This is an awesome time of year upon us, especially if we embrace the possibilities that lie in letting go and being at one with the moment, even in the uncomfortable moments at times.

As I’ve already said, I’m so very blessed with a wonderful mindfulness group, led by Dennis Allen with each of us able to take a stab at leading the group at times.

Last week, my awesome friend – and one of Chip’s new best friends – Cheri, led an Autumnal Equinox meditation group. It was a wonderful meditation mixed with journaling, poems, songs and sharing. One of the songs, “Wake me up when September Ends” by Green Day, always stirs emotions in me.

A song about grieving the loss of a parent, it’s always reminded me of break ups as well, not one specific to me, but more of a general feeling of loss.

And any sort of loss is really just another lesson in learning to let go.

No skeeters or silkworms greeting me on the walk yesterday morning. Things are changing yet again.

The Autumnal Equinox is all about balance. And I’m stepping into Libra season remembering that.

Because next stop for this Libra is the big 5-0.