A few years ago I studied Transactional Analysis for a year with a wonderful group of people, many of whom I’m delighted to call true friends now.
As part of the ending of the year, everyone was required to present something to the group on the last day. The brief was vague, a song, a poem, a thing, whatever. There were no rules, no limits, no right or wrongs, whatever your something was would be good enough – in fact it would be perfect!
This did not sit well with me. Good enough wasn’t perfect. Perfect was perfect.
I panicked, pontificated and procrastinated, flitting from fight to flight and back again as I tried to work out what to do.
Eventually, the morning of the presentation arrived and still I had no idea what I was going to do. Whilst lying in bed thinking up ways of getting out of attending, a chance glance at my bedside cabinet gave me the inspiration I needed. Sitting there amongst the general detritus of my life was the lovely philosophical rhyme penned by Edward Monkton: Zen Dog.
I ended up talking to the group about my desire to be like Zen Dog, lying back, taking life in my stride and enjoying the journey rather than always focusing on the destination.
Fast forward to today (5th March 2017) and my bike ride around the villages surrounding Kampot. I set out with a vague intention to turn right and right again, taking me behind my apartment to explore what lies beyond. After a while of pootling along gazing here and there, avoiding potholes and pretending that my saddle soreness from last week’s ride was not returning, I paused for a while to just be, to breathe in the sights and smells and sounds of fresh air and freedom and suddenly it struck me. This was it. Here I was, nowhere in particular travelling aimlessly and enjoying the process and thus, officially living my Zen Dog Life: