I want to introduce you to one of my best teachers. He is 12 pounds of dog cuteness and as much as I would like to say he is my favorite teacher, today I am mad at him. This morning as I water the front yard, he bursts through the not-quite latched screen door and heads across the street to the neighbor’s who is taking his little dog to his truck. I run after my dog calling, “Cowboy, Cowboy,” and before I know it he and the other dog are growling and biting each other, a little dog scuffle. And picture me I trying to grab him and he is like the cartoon character, the Tasmanian devil, a small, quick tornado that vanishes as soon as I get close. I am apologizing, “I’m sorry, I am so sorry,” I keep saying. But this not a really friendly neighbor in ordinary circumstances. He says nothing as my dog and I run around his yard, out of control. Within what feels like an hour but is really only a few minutes Cowboy is bored and I am able to coerce him back into my house.
I beat myself up for a little while for not latching the door because I know Cowboy is all about containment. I feel ashamed because after years of daily walks, agility training, and obedience training, I still am unable to stop/control/manage his impulsive nature. His reactive behavior shows up sometimes as biting my leg when he sees a new dog or possibly going after a yard workers’ ankles in my backyard. Through watching his quick impulses, he has taught me how easily I am blown over by my own reactions of frustration and fear. And how they take over and that intuitive wise self slips out. And today, I am frustrated with myself because I know better. I know the right thing to do is attentively securing the doors, holding leashes even tighter, and if there is a loose dog manage the loose dog. I know better and still I was careless. I feel defeated and ashamed.
And after some breakfast and meditation, I am able to calm down enough to feel into my morning teaching. Sometimes I know the right thing to do and I make mistakes. That’s okay; it is the human experience. So maybe instead of internalizing it into a story about how incapable I am, I can just settle down and breathe.
Life continues to present us with our best teachings and teachers. They show up in situations, challenges, and experiences. Because from my perspective, we are here to learn and heal, and the best teachers are the things that trigger us most. So what happens when we are in the thick of our teaching if for a moment we can try to step back a little and notice our strong emotions. Maybe it isn’t clear what we are learning but maybe we can pay attention to how our body feels: is it a tight jaw or an acidic belly? Or maybe our mind goes into stories about how it should be a certain way, or arguing in our minds with a person or a situation to try to change it. And maybe the best we can do is just know we are in the thick of it. Healing and learning is not easy. But we can go back to our practices: prayers, meditations, working with our innate wisdom and other healers.
Cowboy will always have challenging behaviors and I will probably always be triggered by him to a certain extent. But when I relax a little with large deep breaths and an open handed acceptance, it is still hard but it’s a little easier to live with my 12-pound spiritual teacher.