Take It Easy

Sometimes I think that I am too easygoing. I try not to expect too much out of others, and when people let me down or make me sad, I am always quick to make them feel better about it, sometimes even to the point of turning it around to where they walk away feeling like I really gave them no choice but to let me down, and I'm sure they don't feel badly about it.

Lately I've noticed how other people handle themselves when let down, whether it is real or perceived. They stomp around, send angry emails that demand the respect and attention they deserve, and they get it. I hear others talking about these people in hushed tones, mainly saying things like "don't make him or her mad. Just do whatever he/she says." As if that person is some kind of emotional bank robber. Such power, such power.

As much as I would love to have power, respect and admiration, I think it may be too late in my personal development to adopt that kind of an attitude about how others treat me and do things in general. I think it is too late to be the kind of person who knows without a doubt how the world should work and struggles each day to be sure everyone bends to that vision. Besides, it seems exhausting.

Not What They Seem

At my new apartment, I have a great view of a lovely little field that is attached to an elementary school. Every morning and every evening, two German Shepherds go there with their people. Sometimes the person is a man, sometimes they are with a lady and sometimes the people are together. Every once in a while, from my living room, I have watched these folks interact with their dogs and thought about what dedicated and great dog owners they were. I marveled at how well the dogs behaved, and how enthusiastic yet under control they were when off their leashes and how attentive they were to their people. I pictured the dogs going home after their fun in the field and curling up on matching dog beds and being petted and loved by their folks in a large yet cozy Victorian down the street.

Then, this last Sunday, as I sat on my porch sipping coffee and looking out over the misty field, I heard a stern sounding voice. It was the kind of voice that I have occasionally overheard at the grocery store from an angry parent. It's the kind of voice I associate with a too tight grip of the arm and a seething red face. The kind of voice that is so intense you feel for the child hearing it and consider intervening on their behalf.

I looked up and saw the people out there with the German Shepherds and realized the intense voices were coming from these dog owners I thought were so great. The stern voices became yells, and the people were saying things like, "you stupid dog, bring me the f'in frisbee!" and "NO, you Goddamn idiot!" This was accompanied by much yanking of leashes and other kinds of "corrections" as the visit to the field progressed. It was uncomfortable to witness, and it made me wonder if the dogs ever had positive experiences with these people. I remembered back and realized that even watching without volume from inside, I never saw the people pet the dogs or interact in a way that wasn't "training." I know that German Shepherds are big dogs that can be aggressive sometimes, but I've also seen really sweet ones that haven't been continuously disciplined. It's weird. Why would a person have a dog (or dogs) at all if it was that miserable of an experience to raise them?

It also made me think that I should probably pay attention to other situations in my life where I have made up rosy scenarios to fill in the blanks. I mean, here I was picturing this great life for these dogs when in reality, those owners seem mean and sad and probably have to run the dogs in the morning and evening because they have to lock them up in some cramped back yard all day while at work. It made me wonder, what other sorts of happy stories have I told myself to make myself not see what is really there?
Do I really want to know?