To Teach or To Learn, That Is the Question

It was a beautiful morning in Minnesota, high 60’s and sunny. A slight breeze brushed my face as I set out on an invigorating walk around the lake.

Along the way I met a woman walking two enthusiastic small dogs, Shih Tzus I think, trotting along in a way that prompted their faithful owner to pick up the pace a little. The dogs were cute. They exuded jubilance, seemingly passionate and grateful for the opportunity to be outside, with an apparent insatiable thirst for discovering what could be around the next turn.

I noticed the woman admonishing the dogs with harsh comments like “No growling!” Jerking on the leashes she uttered, “Come on!” in a somewhat critical tone. Later, after I had turned around to head for home, I came across the same woman and her dogs, and again heard similar mutterings from owner to pets.

What struck me most is that the pristinely white dogs seemed to ignore the verbal harshness, and did not seem to take her remarks personally. They continued their happy spirit, remaining ever present to what excitement lay ahead, and never lost their enthusiasm for what possibilities their own walk around the lake held for them.

I learned a lot from the dogs that day.

How many times has someone spoken harshly to me, and I have reacted with offense, sending my own mood downward as I judged and criticized that person’s treatment of me?

What if I approached such situations like the furry friends I had observed walking around the lake? What if I just ignored the putdowns, the criticisms, the attacking words, and stayed focused on the opportunities that lay before me in the immediate present and future?

What if I refused to take anything personally and kept my attention optimistically on where I was headed rather than resenting the behavior of my ornery friend? What if I accepted people where they were at, forgave them immediately, and hung onto my own joy?

What if I knew what dogs knew, that what anybody else says or does need have no effect on my feeling good? What if I remembered that my only task is to look for what’s good, and let joy reverberate through my bones and radiate from my face?

Not long ago I was visiting my friends who have a black lab as a housemate. I noticed that this charming creature would walk up to me where I was sitting, looking forlornly into my face, hoping I would pat or scratch it’s head.

If I did not respond, she would go to the next person in the room and make the same request. If no one in the room responded to her, she would retreat to a nearby rug or corner and patiently wait for another opportunity when we might be ready to acknowledge her appeal. Her patience was remarkable. Throughout the process, she never whined, never complained. She didn’t bark or whimper, or argue in any way. She trustingly believed that what she wanted was coming her way when the time was right, and all she needed to do was keep asking.

How often can I ask and not be put off if I do not get the response I want immediately? Can I take someone’s refusal gracefully? Can I understand that people are sometimes not ready or able to respond to my requests without developing resentment toward them? Do I have the persistence to keep going after what I need, no matter how many times I am turned down? Do I believe it’s worth continuing to try?

If I am willing to learn anything from my above dog friends, I will overlook any harshness or judgments from others, forever keep my eyes on the possibilities ahead, and never give up asking for what I want. I will maintain a patient, forgiving attitude toward everyone. In this way, I can insure my best enjoyment of life, remain open to every present moment’s gifts, and stay in charge of my moods, regardless of the attitudes of those around me.

Is it our job to train the dogs, or their job to train us? Who are the most willing students?

(David Larson is a licensed psychologist, personal life coach, and leadership trainer. He can be reached at the Institute for Wellness at 507-373-7913 or at his website, www.callthecoach.com )