by Jeanne Harrison
I'm kind of quiet. Some think I hold my emotions tightly. I say I hold them comfortably. In a family of highly passionate folks, I find my place with my dog. He's pretty quiet, like me, and totally comfortable, like me. Given that, who wouldn't aspire to a dog's life? Those highly passionate folks, that's who!
I don't think I lack passion. I simply lack complexity. And I eagerly relinquish the tough stuff to those around me. Hmm. A picture is emerging and it's not very pretty, is it?
It seems I'm leaving those I love the most in the dust. No wonder they are sputtering, rubbing their itchy, watery eyes and praying for clarity. Is it fair to be simple? I know it is infinitely easier. But is it fair given the complexities of the rest of the household?
Family, by nature, is complex. The many different personalities must find a way to co-exist with the least amount of resistance. That's a pretty tall order. Is it any wonder that just about every household could say they are dysfunctional? It seems the underlying foundation of love isn't enough to keep the balance. However, in my dog's life, his simplicity alone makes for a balanced, contented and I hope, meaningful existence. As he sits by the door and watches my every move, wondering, "is she getting ready to walk with me?…feed me?….pet me?", even if I don't do any of the things he wants from me, he might be briefly disappointed, but he still accepts me, wags his tail, and loves me. Life goes on. And indeed, at some point, he gets that walk and food and robust petting, forgetting the earlier disappointment, basking in the mutual love.
I wonder if we set ourselves up for disappointment by placing too much emphasis on complexity. Maybe every family needs a dog, canine or human, to keep the balance.
So, maybe it's okay that I've found my place, much to the chagrin of my family, next to my dog.