In my face in your face in the world’s face by Diana Raab

Everyone blames their shit on childhood. Last night my dog’s butt found my face. I wish I could say that he thought he was protecting me from the Loch Ness Monster’s embrace or something worse that may emerge from his walking circles on my bed, from his search of the perfect position. Is his fear of the deafening wind outside my bedroom window a childhood trauma? The monster wind and my eight hours of interrupted sleep might agree: Nobody wants to take responsibility for who the hell they are. My dog—inconsolable— licks every inch of my exposed skin, parades over my still body as I balance a book between two arms. He wags his tail back and forth onto its pages, worse than any newborn’s consolation of jamming a milk-engorged breast into its mouth. I know there’s no way my dog, as smart as he, could be so tuned in even if he knows I’m coming home before I do. . . who knows? What do dogs know about reading or the wind? Do they make ear plugs for canines? I’ll take two please, along with the back and forth of time taken. All this because he thought I could protect him. 

Diana Raab, PhD, is an award-winning memoirist, poet, blogger, speaker, and author of 10 books and is a contributor to numerous journals and anthologies.  Her two latest books are, "Writing for Bliss: A Seven-Step Plan for Telling Your Story and Transforming Your Life," and "Writing for Bliss: A Companion Journal." Her poetry chapbook, "An Imaginary Affair," was recently released in July 2022 with Finishing Line Press.  She blogs for Psychology Today, Thrive Global, Sixty and Me, Good Men Project, and The Wisdom Daily and is a frequent guest blogger for various other sites.

Visit: www.dianaraab.com.

Life and Death by Diana Raab

Tonight I think of how death
reminds us how to live—
engraved on beloved family tombstones

words to tell us to
enjoy simple pleasures.

Or maybe it’s a Buddhist textbook
with earmarked pages perched
on my bedside table

which describes powers
of living in the present moment—
and about life’s impermanence,

like time spent time brushing our teeth,
watering flowers, walking about our gardens
or mindful meditations in local parks.

Or maybe it’s those dead philosophers
like Socrates who profess that death
has no place in our lives.

Maybe I feel this way because
many friends died last year,
and memories of mother in oblivion

in intensive care unit after multiple tumbles
from her aged horse’s back.
Is this nature’s song

and a reminder to forge ahead
dwell in the moment
and make the best of each day?

Perhaps tonight I collapse into sleep
and not wake up to feel the satisfaction

of how I knew
how to smell flowers,
water my internal garden,
and give myself permission to live.

Diana Raab, PhD, is an award-winning memoirist, poet, blogger, speaker, and author of 10 books and is a contributor to numerous journals and anthologies. Her two latest books are, "Writing for Bliss: A Seven-Step Plan for Telling Your Story and Transforming Your Life," and "Writing for Bliss: A Companion Journal."