It’s been a tough couple of weeks.
Two Fridays ago, my dog Mister Benji was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive cancer that means he won’t be with us for longer than a few months.
He’s not a young dog — his 14th birthday is in November — so I knew something was on the horizon, but it’s a difficult time. I’ve never lived with an animal for as long as this before, and we’ve been through so much together that it’s painful to imagine being without him.
Of course, Benji is oblivious, and at the moment is in fine health and spirits. As I write, he’s lying in his favourite spot on my gold rug in The Launchpad, merrily snoring with his eyes open (as usual). He’s absolutely fine. Every few days I’m hit with a wave of grief, and I worry a little about what’s to come (because I want to do the best I can by him), but most of the time is being spent enjoying his company. He gets all the treats he wants, now.
Last week we took him to Barry Island (in South Wales) because he’s always loved sandy beaches. Jackson’s Bay and the beach past Friar’s Point are dog-friendly, and they’re beautiful. He skipped around like a puppy, then leaned in for a cuddle.
I’ve been reading about time, and it’s been especially helpful during this, um, time. “Four Thousand Weeks” by Oliver Burkeman is a brilliant new book about the ways we try to convince ourselves of our control over time as a resource, and the reasons why we try to hurry onto the next thing (simply, to deny our “finitude” — the limitations we may as well acknowledge, because we’re not going to be here forever). For this outcome-obsessed freelance creative person, it’s been a revelation.
Scanning the various Post-Its stuck to my desk, my eye is drawn to a short list titled “Stuff that needs doing”. I’ve got to the stage with a couple of big, intensive projects where I’m honestly sick of thinking about them. I just want them completed so I can move onto the things I feel excited about at the moment — the next things.
Two of the three items on the list start with the word “finish”: finish this, finish that, get it all done. Burkeman highlights how strange it is to approach life in this way…
