I have a confession to make…I yelled at my dog. I’m not proud of it, but it happened. To to be fair though, he had it coming. I should give you some context.
Huck is a great, nay, amazing dog. He’s playful when you want him to be, loyal to a fault and (most times) eager to please. Sure, he can get a little needy at times, but what dog doesn’t? The only time he really tends to get excited is if he happens to catch any…little…movement…at…all through the front or back door windows. In which case, he will launch into a chaotic barking frenzy, just so everyone in the household is aware that my neighbor Randall is trimming the hedge, or a car has driven by the front of the house slowly, or a car has driven by the front of the house quickly, or a bird has landed in a tree…you get the idea.
I normally deal with this in a relatively calm manner…I mean, he’s a dog. Dogs bark. And telling him “Huck, don’t do that!” doesn’t work. I tried that the first 800 times. So typically, I just call him over, thank him for loyally protecting our house from all sort of walking, driving and flying predators and we all move on with our day.
It’s not you, it’s me.
I need you to picture my day. I hadn’t got much sleep the night prior, we were moving into the fourth day of no water to the house (Our village water pump blew up) and we had no real hope of it being restored anytime soon. In addition, there seemed to be an inordinate amount of traffic in and around the house that day. Ever vigilant Huck was on duty, letting us know of each nefarious movement that occurred, as in his eyes, any of these could lead to disaster!! The household had to be warned! I had patiently thanked him for each, but he was wearing on me. I was growing, umm…weary of it. I had been waiting for a friend to stop by and noticed him pull up to the house, open the gate and walk toward the front door. Huck must have been busy chewing at his paws because there was no outburst of earsplitting yelping warning of the impending potential calamity approaching the door, so I got up to greet him. As I approached the door Huck caught wind of what was going down and like Usain Bolt running for gold tore through the dining room while simultaneously scream barking in sharp high-pitched succession as if to warn me that a six-alarm fire was raging beyond the door! It was at this point that my automatic reflex system took over! I turned and…yes…yelled at my dog.
(Disclaimer: Some of the preceding events have been vastly exaggerated to make the writer look and feel better)
You may wonder why I’m sharing my deepest darkest secrets with you in todays post? In short: Goal 11 – Be Patient
Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.
Aristotle
Patience is only one of two qualities I have on my 100. It’s on there because of its importance. It requires self-control. Developing self-control comes with a litany of benefits – it helps with follow through on decision making, it increases your chances of success in any endeavor and provides a general sense of well-being. Without patience we act too quickly, speak too rashly, get frustrated too easy and potentially we may even end up…yelling at our dog. That’s not good for anyone.
I like to think of it as the difference between acting and reacting. When we react, many times it’s automatic and not always the most logical course of action available to us. But by waiting, thinking, and then acting, our response can be tailored to the situation at hand – minus the heightened emotion. While hard at first, it does get easier. It’s like a muscle, the more we work it, the stronger it gets. Because when we hold that initial frustration in, stop that sharp comment from coming out and take a moment to think of a better way to say or express our thought, an amazing thing happens…our relationships get better. Every one of them. Patience gets addicting in that way, the payoff is so much better than the short burst of anger impatience brings, which typically comes saddled with hurt feelings, regret, guilt, and yes, puppy dog eyes.
Nothing worth doing is ever easy
Ruzwana Bashir
Of course, this means “The 100” gets re-set back to Day 1. There is no way around it. Those are the rules. While in the past, failure to meet my goals would send me in a tizzy. I’ve learned over the years not to let one mistake send me into a whirlpool of self-destruction. “I yelled at the dog. Might as well go get some fried ice cream now!!”
I’ve learned to differentiate the failure from being a failure. Those two bleed over into each all too often and don’t accurately represent the person who is trying. Successful people try, they fail, then they try again. That’s just the way we learn. Not that I enjoy failing, but it does have its place.
My dog and I have since made up. He made mistakes, I made mistakes, he still barks at every little thing, but we’re past that now. I’m better for it because now I know what could potentially cause me to lose my cool and I can take steps to guard against it. While it does stink that I have to reset the 100, it’s not the end of the world…remember, I do love Day 1.
The 100 