Dog sh*t happens

At 12 I loved reading in the grass in between the house and the barn. It was the perfect spot to keep an eye out for the two hippies living in the octagon up the road. They came down often to buy milk. I assumed others lived with them, maybe girlfriends? I think it was a commune. How cool is that?

One day I took a break from Spiderweb for Two (one of my favorite books) and got engrossed in a love comic. Women in pencil skirts and sweater sets often crying over the guy with the chiseled jaw.

“Whatcha readin'” drawled Keith.

I was startled and then mortified. A LOVE COMIC OH MY GOSH!

I did what any 12 year old girl would do and jumped up to empty the dishwasher or something equally absurd. I didn’t look where I was going and stepped my bare foot in dog poop. Could things get any worse?

I hopped inside crying tears of embarrassment. My father took me into the bathroom, sat me on the sink and washed my foot.

It was a pivotal moment. For some reason I assumed I’d be stuck with that muck between my toes forever. That’s not the case, excrement can be washed away.

Saucha (sow-cha) means cleanliness. It reminds us to be clean, not just physically smelling good but also being pure of actions and thoughts. Get rid of stuff that lingers unpleasantly. Better yet help someone else clean up the muck.

If I hadn’t been reading that love comic who knows how long it would have taken me to turn on the proverbial faucet. Let things go down the drain.

Namaste- getting laundry done today.

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