Goodness, such a long day littered with ups and downs and speed bumps. One such speed bump involved chasing a client’s dog. Perhaps chasing a client’s dog (who escaped out of the car) through a large and hilly field of snow is not normally included in a counselor’s job description. But so be it. And for the record, it is (a) hard to run in a hilly field of snow, (b) it is even harder to run a hilly field of snow frantic you will not be successful, and (c) it is even more difficult to run in a hilly field of snow laughing.

During a brief peaceful moment at lunch, I stood outside and conversed with a tree. A huge tall pine with arms begging me to climb up. I regretfully declined and felt my heart pout. Lingering longer than I should have, I placed my hand on the tree trunk and allowed my heart and mind to do what the body could not. They climbed so swiftly. I could feel the arms of limbs nestling me in for a short and needed nap. I could see the mountains and valley from the top well beyond my eyesight from the bottom. A most wonderfilled and healing climb.

So what does chasing a dog in a hilly field of snow and climbing a tree with my heart and mind have in common? The forty minutes were meant to be spent helping a client work through the challenges of life. That I did. The challenge, instead of those normally met in my office, simply had four legs and quite the playful heart. Who can deny the healing when you watch a mother and her four legged child are safely reunited. I bowed to her tearful thank you and then we both laughed. My body is way too short to climb that tree. To climb her I would damage the aged bark. Instead I honored her invitation without taking her dignity. The climb was complete. Perhaps the whisper joining them both is that it is not the outcome or expectation that matters. To not be so rigid in the how. It is only the heart’s intent.