em·bar·rass
ˌimˈberəs,ˌemˈberəs/
verb
verb: embarrass; 3rd person present: embarrasses; past tense: embarrassed; past participle: embarrassed; gerund or present participle: embarrassing
cause (someone) to feel awkward, self-conscious, or ashamed.
"she wouldn't embarrass either of them by making a scene"
synonyms: mortify, shame, put someone to shame, humiliate, abash, chagrin, make uncomfortable, make self-conscious; More
discomfit, disconcert, discompose, upset, distress;
informal
show up, discombobulate
"his parents would show up drunk and embarrass him"
be caused financial difficulties.
"he would be embarrassed by an inheritance tax"
archaic
hamper or impede (a person, movement, or action).
"the state of the rivers will embarrass the enemy in a considerable degree"
archaic
make difficult or intricate; complicate.
Origin
early 17th century (in the sense ‘hamper, impede’): from French embarrasser, from Spanish embarazar, probably from Portuguese embaraçar (from baraço ‘halter’).
I am introverted, I process in solitude. I am fragile as glass. I get nourishment from words, poetry, and being outdoors in motion walking or bicycling, or swimming. I love solitude. Lily was my companion is solitude. My cat has taken to sharing this with me. He is inches from me now on my desk. Sitting on my calendar. I love people. Somehow walking made me extroverted defined by the activity. Life on a leash. The linear park. I never desired a dog park. The world was my park. We need not run free we just need to run or walk or swim. Freedom is between the ears or in the heart.
Stand outside in daylight to align your circadian rhythm. Lily was the daily reason. I am going to continue this habit. Now I understand why people go to diners. So they will eat. I love to cook but somehow I can't eat alone right now. But I have "Gink" the cat to protect me from the abyss of a solitude without a pet. I feel lucky. I have books. I have furniture curtains and plants providing silent partnership if I am quiet enough to feel them.
I slept well and dreamed a lot. Skin crawling from pollen. Noisy dreams that I can't remember details or plots but Lily was there. Dreaming of Lily on day 4.
The humidity is smelly.
What did Lily teach me? Go out and sniff have a routine, love life, greet everyone with a wag and kindness. Be under the sky every day at least for a few hours and maybe even 4 miles if you get into the flow which we did nearly every day. She made me a writer by taking me for a walk after a morning of writing.
She was my spiritual advisor and my transportation a way to move through space. She was trained before I got her and most days I let her decide where we were going. Sometimes we struggled if she wanted to keep to the same walk and I wanted to turn onto a new street. She usually knew best. I'm sure dog trainers would not approve but she was my canine guru not my child.
Now I have my bicycle, my legs, and maybe I will run through space. I do not like cars at all. In my mind they are hostile, equal to military tanks. Also, I space out easily. I need a Flinstone mobile where my body is propelling me. That's why I love my old three speed bike. It's friendly, not zoomy. And never complicated. I have an old wicker basket. Maybe I need a bell. I have my own voice for a bell. I can stop on a dime and have a chat. It's like traveling by a low flying helicopter and much quieter. My dragonfly, bumble bee, horse. My grandma Sophie rode the same bicycle on the boardwalk. She loved it. Hers was blue, mine is black.
Maybe I need to let people love me without my dog. And let myself love people empty handed. Maybe that is the lesson now. Will I be swallowed up and lose my center. Not if I keep my centering habits: writing in a journal reading, waking early, swimming baking cooking feeding telling stories, listening to stories, going to the library every few days. Doing my art writing music baking, loving.
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