On Floor, With Dog

January 14, 2014

Dear Readers,

Something really kind of scary and shitty happened this week.

I probably shouldn’t talk about it.

But then again, maybe it will help to talk about it.

Roll the dice.

I’ll talk.

If you know me at all, you know this thing: I am dangerous in the winter.

Winter takes my brain and stews it into some kind of potent, foul-smelling home brew. It twists my synapses into knots and God knows what kind of assholery goes on with things like serotonin.  I can’t explain this black magic. I just know it happens.

Black magic convinces you that it’s perfectly okay to consider taking a Dirt Nap, even though you have three children and a very nice husband and a life that harbors very few complaints, if you really think about it.

But thinking about it is the problem, because if you’re in a place where taking a Dirt Nap is a possibility, your brain ain’t working right.

That kind of brain got me Fuck You Linda.

I shouldn’t go back to Fuck You Linda, although it was kind of an entertaining ride, and it actually got me through Fuck You Linda to really focus and notice things, so I could take you there with me, which I know you are going to thank me for later.


Okay. In all seriousness, I am just going to hit publish and put it out there because sometimes I think the way we get caught in the black magic in the first place is by pretending.  Pretending very hard.

We pretend we never get to a place like that, because let’s face it, it’s shameful.

It’s mean, funky voodoo.


So that shitty thing happened, but I’m on the right side of the concrete and I’m going to own it because I don’t know what else to do.

Except for maybe face-planting on the ground with the dog, which I’ve done a lot of this week.

I can actually recommend Floor Therapy as a healing technique.

You have to get on the floor, though. It doesn’t work if you just loaf on the sofa. Something interesting and important shifts in you when you surrender to the ground.

If you are lucky, you have some other oxygen-breathing creature to keep you company on the floor, but if you have to go it alone, I still say, “go for it.”

So that’s where I’m at.

I’m on the floor. With dog.

Re-learning how to breathe.




{ 29 comments… read them below or add one }

Rosalie January 14, 2014 at 10:07 am

I think it might be the dog part of on-the-floor-with-the-dog that makes this work. Amazing what wonders a fuzzy, loving guy who doesn’t speak English can work.


laura h January 14, 2014 at 10:14 am

Dogs are good for depression.


Erica January 14, 2014 at 10:20 am

On the floor with the dog really does help and I speak from personal experience. oxox


Justine January 14, 2014 at 10:40 am

Hey, at least you have your adorable puppy to keep you company on the floor! :-) Hope the black magic clears out soon.


Shannon January 14, 2014 at 11:45 am

While you are laying on the floor with the dog, feeling his warmth near you, I hope you will also feel the warmth and love of your internet friends coming your direction. Sending you black magic fighting energy. And love.


pamela January 14, 2014 at 1:28 pm

I love you dear heart.

Something interesting and important shifts in you when you surrender to the ground.

Oh yes. I needed to be reminded of this. We all face plant. Fall down seven times, get up eight.


Phoo-d January 14, 2014 at 1:46 pm

Sending love and an email your way. Almost anything can be solved on the floor with the dog. =)


Pearl Chow January 14, 2014 at 3:46 pm

Your posts profoundly touch us, whichever way you happen to be headed. Funky Voodoo is a non-contender with all of us cheering for you. Breathe deeply, winter’s on the way out. xo


Jody January 14, 2014 at 4:14 pm

It’s winter that does this? Why haven’t you moved to Hawaii yet?!?!?!?!


SuziCate January 14, 2014 at 5:28 pm

Inhale. Exhale. Just breathe…you’ve got this. And we’ve got your back! Big hugs!


Katrina Kenison January 14, 2014 at 5:34 pm

Oh you are so smart to lie down with the dog. Having lost our own resident therapist here, we are all at a loss. No one’s getting down on the floor anymore ( a place where we all spent a good deal of time, nose to nose with Gracie). And we are the worse for it. Just hope you can remember: you’re NOT alone! xo


S in AK January 14, 2014 at 6:11 pm

The metaphors you construct are vivid and compelling.


Sherri January 14, 2014 at 6:14 pm

Sending you anti-black magic – voodoo – mind fuckery – thoughts :). Yes -breathe – and think. You can always share with us here. Remember, you’re never alone :). Keep breathing… on the floor…. with the dog :). Cool chicks have other cool chicks’ backs :).


Jamie January 14, 2014 at 8:00 pm

No words. Just hug.

Actually, an empathetic pat for my fellow cold-prickly.

Thinking of you.


elizabeth January 14, 2014 at 8:41 pm

Fuck the January black sorcery. At least this month makes this lovely, if melancholy song appropriate: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XqDlTKqxu2w

And I’m sending you an email because I miss you.


jacquie January 14, 2014 at 8:46 pm

we hear you and you are not alone in the cold and the dark. try to continue to at least let the pup share that space with you and give you comfort. stay on the floor as long as you need. remember to breathe. right there with you and loving you.


Lisa @ The Meaning of Me January 14, 2014 at 9:09 pm

Can’t even think what to say, except you have so many thinking of you and loving you. Winter is a real toad, isn’t it? And out where you are, you get it good! Does it help to think that the days are already getting longer??? No? Worth a shot. It actually helps me a bit.

There is definitely something to be said for floor time with the dog…or cat or whatever. Pure empathy, nothing else.

I wish you light and breath…


Kate January 15, 2014 at 12:02 am

Being on the floor is good magic, nice earth magic, soothing magic. (I need me some, my brain is caught in an obscene cycle that keeps out sleep and sleep is kind of necessary for life.)

And dogs. Oh. Dogs. Or cats. Or just the calm steady earth that holds us up so well. (Glad you’re on this side. Very very glad.)

Hugs to you.


Killian January 15, 2014 at 9:41 am

Ah, Kitch. That Winter brain is so much more common than people realize, and yet it’s looked at like it’s some sort of anomaly.

I, for one, am quite grateful that no Dirt Naps were taken, even if they were considered. I think we’ve all considered once or twice – but taking one is so damn irreversible!

Floor time with puppies cures a lot of things. I hope it at least brings you some time to breathe, some slobbery kisses on your cheek, and some fur up your nose. =)

Much love.


Suniverse January 15, 2014 at 1:28 pm

Ugh. That feeling. I’ sorry you had it, but I’m glad you found a way through it.

Stay on this side of the concrete, sister. We need you.


Robin January 15, 2014 at 7:07 pm

I will try the floor, but I do think it is the dog that is healing. It definitely is a different perspective on things down there on the floor. I take medication. That works, too.


Alison January 15, 2014 at 11:46 pm

I need a dog.


Mary Lee January 16, 2014 at 6:33 pm

January is just plain rugged. I’m so glad you have a dog. Floor therapy sounds like a valid medical term. So is this tiny desk concert someone sent to me. Sweet harmony!



Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri January 17, 2014 at 9:32 am

Thinking of you, Kitch. Hope things are getting better.


Biz January 17, 2014 at 2:59 pm

If I lived closer I would lay on the floor with you – but then I’d ask you to play Scrabble with me! Sending HUGE hugs your way!!


Dawn January 20, 2014 at 6:14 pm

Huh. I had a crappy crappy crappy week at work and a really depressing weekend for no good reason. (the crappy weekend, the crappy work week had a reason.) Did not think of hanging out with the dog on the floor. It might work. I hope you have moved on to the sofa now…and by next week might begin to feel better. I hope that for all of us.


Naptimewriting January 21, 2014 at 3:19 pm

Get a light box for down on the floor. Puppy CO2 is awesome for a deep breath of perspective, but it only lasts until the next wayward poo.

Lightbox. Full spectrum. Because winter is a mean, cold, dark, lonely thing to do to a person.


alexandra January 22, 2014 at 9:56 am

I have to wait until night to do this, and when I do, I surrender. It’s so vast, but yet feels so small.

Always here. xo


Tiffany January 23, 2014 at 7:47 pm

I am there with you. Honestly. And you’re right…pretending makes it worse. Much love to you.


Leave a Comment

{ 1 trackback }

Previous post:

Next post: