So, I'm listening to Elvis Mitchel and Harold Ramis on The Treatment talk about how the movie Groundhog's Day is really about the Buddhist principle of destruction of self and how the way to find real meaning is through service to others rather than servicing your ego, when it occurs to me how much parenting is really a Buddhist process. You spend so much time taking care of your kids (serving them, if you'd like) that there's very little time left for focusing on your own self-construct. Or, maybe not, since I've seen a number of parents whose parenting is all about serving their own egos. Do I have to be specific? I doubt it.
I know that the most out-of-my-own-head (in a good way, not a crazy way) I've ever been was during the first couple of months of Linus' life. There's just so much to do and focus on that there wasn't any time left for all the me-crap that usually fills my head. This is another thing I'm grateful to Linus for, giving me the opportunity to, maybe, become a little enlightened. I just hope I can always keep that feeling. I want him to know how great I think it is taking care of him, and that it's not some kind of burden that I bear. That seems to be one of those messages that you get from our culture, like men are complete incompetents when it comes to anything domestic. Kids, while ya love 'em, are really just burdens that parents bear. I hope Linus grows up knowing that raising him is a joy and delight. Sure, not every minute, but mostly.
So, enough about epiphanies. My dog came out of the closet. Apparently, Lucky is gay. We took him to the groomer to get his nails clipped and he came back sporting a rainbow pride bandana (I'll post a picture once I get home). He's a 14 year old miniature dachshund who's been neutered, but it's never too late, I guess.