The other day my dog paced, panicked by what he had heard outside the house: a lawnmower. He panted as he passed me in the kitchen, while he aimed to detect whether what he heard would hurt him.
It was my lunch break — a quick trip home to eat. While I ate, I thought about the work outside of work that overwhelms me. Stuff to write. A chastity talk to cut from 45 minutes to 30. Flights to book. Contracts to write.
Whoever pushed the mower outside pushed it closer.
Lawnmowers are everything that alarms my dog.
They are loud. They are probably scary to look at. They are bigger than he is, their paths are unpredictable, and their purpose is a mystery. Continue reading “A truth to consider when your life alarms you.”