How to Find Inspiration in the New and Unknown

For the past week, I’ve been living somewhere new. A close friend has left the country to visit his dying father, and I’m dog- and house-sitting in his absence.

For the past week, I’ve been living somewhere new. A close friend has left the country to visit his dying father, and I’m dog- and house-sitting in his absence.

I work from home most of the time, so it’s easy for me to help out friends when they leave town; however, it does require some adjustment. I sleep in a new bed. I shower in a different bathroom. I prepare my meals in a new kitchen with different pots and pans. I pick up groceries from another supermarket. I have a new key and a different alarm code. The house even smells different from my own thanks to an orange-scented air freshener.

Sometimes, months will pass before I’m asked to dog-/house-sit; other times, I’ll leave one gig for another. Still, it reminds me a bit of taking a mini-vacation, as if I decided to rent an Airbnb across town.
The most significant change is taking care of a dog. My cat died in January, so I’m out of the habit of thinking of a pet. The dog, I’ll call him Spot, eats a specific dog food in the morning and afternoon. He needs to be walked twice per day. He has particular quirks about what he does and does not like.

I don’t mind, though, because I like animals, and for a short time, I’m reminded of what it feels like to care for another creature and receive unconditional love.

Yesterday, I woke up early to feed and walk Spot so that I could attend a work meeting. I had to adjust my schedule for traveling father than I usually would. It required some adjustment coming off a three-day weekend. I’ve also begun seeing evidence of approaching the change of seasons from summer to autumn. Although the daily high temperatures have almost hit one hundred, the mornings and evenings have been deceptively cool. Also, dawn has been dawdling, rising later and later until Daylight Saving Time ends in November.

The work projects I’ve devoted myself to for the past six months have come to an end, and I’m unsure when my new projects will start and what exactly I’ll be doing.

I’m in the midst of planning an international vacation, a party, and a weekend getaway. I also need to finish reading and critiquing submissions for my writing group meeting that night.

At 5:30 a.m., it seemed overwhelming. I felt some definite resistance to all the change and unknowns swirling about me. As Spot and I walked out into the cool morning, though, the darkness and quiet had an amelioratory effect. When we appeared and disappeared out of the spill from the streetlights, it reminded me of the aquarium in my bedroom that I used to gaze at when I was falling asleep as a teenager, colorful neons and guppies floating through an alien landscape in the stillness.

I watched Spot sniff his way down the sidewalk, following scents and sticking his heads in holes. It’s difficult to walk a dog and not be present. Every four inches, Spot seems to enthuse he has discovered another amazing smell that he’ll never have the opportunity to sniff again.

During our early morning walk before sunrise, we encounter two people: another dog walker and a shirtless jogger. No words are exchanged, only brief nods of recognition. The soft glow of a handful of lit windows and porch lights provide a cozy preview of shorter days and cooler weather.
Although I normally listen to music when I walk Spot, I do not this morning. It seemed wise to avoid distraction while out at a new time, in the dark, with few people around. The quiet allows me to experience a moving meditation. The overwhelm that lay on my shoulders as I prepared to leave the house has eased off my back and wandered off with the unknown. In their place, new ideas and possibilities have taken each of my hands and now lead me down unexplored sidewalks in my mind. Solutions to travel obstacles, party challenges, and writer’s block present themselves to me. I take a deep breath and release it slowly.

As we come to the end of the street, Spot and I can go right, a path we have taken many times before, or we can go left and embrace and adventure. Spot raises his head and sniffs the air before going left, leading the way to turn the unknown from a stranger to a new friend.