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.
There’s the idea that suffering is what makes it possible for us to experience joy, much the same way that darkness allows us to notice light. It’s built into our experience of life.
She had every right to complain, to be grouchy or negative. God knows, I probably would be most days if I were in her shoes. Yet she did not allow herself to be defined by her suffering.