Off Leash Dogs

I was talking with someone recently who was wanting support to break the cycle of overwhelmingly anxious thinking – the kind that swallows you up and makes it hard to carry on with life. 

As I listened to the description of what it felt like in this person’s head, I thought of all the dogs that have been in my life. It wasn’t that I was distracted. It was that the feeling this person was describing was a lot like the moment when a dog is let off leash. Maybe there’s a squirrel, or another dog, or just a chance to runrunrunrunrun as fast as it can. Can you picture it? And this is what this person’s mind was doing. 

Running as fast as it can to try and catch a solution to feeling bad. Trying to solve an emotion. 

When we think we are our thoughts, we can get stuck in that sprinting dog, runaway mind feeling. And that sucks. And it’s scary. 

When we remember that we are not our thoughts (we are the observer), we can see, almost in a matter-of-fact kind of way, “Oh boy, there goes my mind off leash again. It does that sometimes (insert shoulder shrug).” And the feeling is no longer so frightening or overwhelming. 

That’s where I stopped with the person I was talking to, and just that little bit of distance from the content of the thinking was enough to stop the downward cycle. Later, as I thought about this conversation, I was amused by the dog connection since it made me laugh about how often I have off-leash thoughts. Then I realized there’s even more to this canine metaphor. 

I’ve had plenty of dogs in my life. As well as a wife who understands animals in ways that I don’t. So it was a memorable lesson for me the day that I let one of our dogs out – yup, off leash – for an evening pee, and she (the dog, not my wife) wasn’t coming back when I let out the first few half-hearted calls. Then, feeling the frustration rise as I was being ignored in favor of scent trails and who knows what, I started to yell at the dog, shouting her name, adding brilliant things like “Get back here!”, “Get in here, NOW!”  You know, all spiritual and peaceful. 

Sumaya (the insightful wife, not the dog) then very gently pointed out to me that everything about me in that moment was communicating to the dog “GET AWAY! STAY AWAY! DON’T COME CLOSE! ANGRY HUMAN! PROBABLY NOT SAFE!” All while I was mystified why the dog wasn’t coming back towards me. 

Ouch. In that instant I saw the futility of my approach. 

I’d like to think my approach to dog misbehavior has never been the same since.

If I want the dog to come back, I need to find a more welcoming way to do it. 

Turns out, this also points to a deeper insight about how we interact with our thoughts and our emotions too.

With the same flavor of futility that I used to yell at my dog, I have tried most of my life to overcome my anger and fear, my anxiety and grief. To improve my self. To be a better person. It sounds harmless enough, but the flavor of it all has been far from welcoming to all those off-leash thoughts and feelings that I’ve wanted to be different, that I’ve wanted to change. 

One of my mentors, Joe Hudson, has a saying that I’ve come to love:

Joy is the matriarch of a family of emotions. She won’t come into your house if her children are not welcome.

In so many ways, subtle and not-so-subtle, I have been impatient, judgmental, and demanding with my unwanted emotions over the years. ” Hey anger! Hey fear! Hey insecurity! You don’t feel good. I don’t like having you around. Change or go away.”

Would you want to approach me if I’m being that way with you? Talking that way to you? Didn’t think so. 

But by pushing away these unwanted emotions, I have failed to see what they have to teach me, or how I can let them move through me to resolve trauma that’s stuck in my system. I have rehashed the futility over and over again, in situations at work and at home that have pushed my buttons and put in motion the same old patterns that have kept me stuck. 

Welcoming my emotions, though, has been a whole new ball game. Welcoming my anxiety has transformed it. Welcoming my fear has allowed for more courage and more peace in my heart. Welcoming my anger has made more room for love. 

Welcoming our experience is as easy as you want it to be. The moment I saw that yelling at the dog would keep it from coming to me, I didn’t need a book to teach me how to do it differently. Same with our emotions. 

While there’s much more to explore on this topic once the curiosity is there, a simple way to start is by saying out loud: 

“I feel ___________ , and that’s okay.”  

Simply welcoming our emotions allows them to move, rather than to get stuck. 

It’s okay that you’re feeling that way. 

It’s okay. 

Of course you’re feeling that way. 

It’s okay. 

You don’t need to change. 

Even just writing that feels good. It’s the antidote to:

I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

I should be over it by now. 

I hate that I feel this way.

I’ve got to learn how to make this stop.

When is this feeling ever going to go away?

(Or even the sneakier ones like “I’m better than this.” or “I don’t have time for this.”)

When we stop resisting what we’re feeling, emotions get to do what they were designed to do – move.

Let me know how it goes watching your thoughts and emotions run run run, and still befriending them with a warm welcome.