I told myself a story that wasn’t true based on my interpretation of what I read and my own personal lens. I deceived myself by believing what I wanted to believe.
The dogs haven’t learned that they will never, ever win in their desire to rid our yard, or our village, of squirrels. In their quest to alter reality, these dogs take after their adopted mother: me.
Rather than expecting everyone to view reality as we do, I’m wondering if we can be open, curious even, to asking questions in a sincere, nonjudgmental way about why someone holds particular opinions or interpretations of reality.
Bringing home a puppy is inviting chaos and a lot of extra work into your home. It’s also saying, “I do” to more love and joy, and that’s what I want, regardless of my age.
I’m trying to read a book on my tablet, but I can’t quite concentrate on the words because a man five rows behind me is singing loudly, as if he is one of the Supremes backing up Diana Ross. I’m a little put off because I can’t concentrate on my book with this singing. Doesn’t he know the rules by heart like me?
