some years ago, during a painful moment with a close friend, I went walking to try to understand the hurt and unease moving through me. my way is walking in the woods and talking it out with myself and my helping spirits until I find my center.
just as I started to understand what was up…a little dog ran out into the windy road in the woods, barking loudly.
at first I thought nothing of it – I encounter dogs on these walks all the time – but this one became more and more frenzied, darting at my legs and snapping. just then, a car drove by, almost hitting the dog as it suddenly lunged in close at my left leg…and that’s when the owner appeared up the hill.
let me say here that I was not at my best in that moment. I was so triggered and hurt by what had happened with this friend, and so angry that this dog was growling and barking and lunging (and, man, I had to be carrying some funky energy with me, can’t say I blame him), and then overwhelmed by this car in the middle of an already charged interaction. I yelled up at the dog owner that his dog was in the street, barking and lunging at me, that he’d almost been hit by a car, and he needed to come get his dog.
the dog owner was upset, the dog was going nuts, I was upset, and we yelled back and forth at each other for a minute. nothing horrible, per se, but we were both angry at each other. it is HUGELY unlike me to yell – ever – and I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. as we parted ways, me continuing on my walk with the dog still lunging at me, he yelled after me, ‘don’t make such a drama about it!’
that stung. here I was, getting up in my ‘mighty righty’ about how dramatic this challenging situation with my friend felt, and I was in the middle of the street yelling and…causing drama. ouch!
I was really adrenalized, shaking and crying after the interaction (I’m super sensitive, and anger scares me), and kept walking. it began to feel like I’d received a big gift (strange giftwrap notwithstanding), and as I walked I tried to understand what had just happened and what was up for me in the midst of all that emotion.
what became suddenly clear was how unsafe I had been feeling – not only with the little dog in front of me, but with the situation that had sent me walking into the woods in the first place.
ah.
with more clarity now, feeling the grace of the gift, I considered what to do. still shaking and tearstained, I resolved to turn around (I almost didn’t), and apologize to the man for my behavior. it took a driveway or two, and a conversation with a friendly neighbor, to find the right house again. that driveway was steep (!) and I was out of breath and scared, as I stood knocking at this man’s door.
he opened the door, immediately recognized me, and I introduced myself. I told him that I’d been out walking because something really painful had happened for me, that I was walking to try to work it out when I met his little friend. I shared that when his dog came at me barking and lunging, I felt afraid, and reacted in fear and anger. I spoke that this isn’t who I usually am (great heavens!) and that I was so, so sorry to bring that into his day.
he was super gracious and kind, introducing himself as well with his (now calm) dog who turned out to be really sweet, and shared that he was quitting smoking and having a hard moment, too. we both apologized a lot, wished each other well, and thanked each other with full and open hearts. it was humbling, beautiful, hard, and ultimately an amazing experience.
it took the rest of the walk for me to sit with the gift that had been delivered. I’m writing about this because – even if it seems like a small courage to go introduce myself to a stranger and apologize for my unskillful behavior in a hard time – it was a big deal for me, and I had a (messy) chance to be what I want to be in the world – to move out of contraction and ‘being right’…into openness and connection.
my take home: sometimes listening to yourself means admitting when you were wrong and walking back up the hill to make it right.
here’s to being what we want to see in the world. for me, that’s being open, vulnerable, kind, and willing to try the hard thing even when it scares me (or if I don’t nail it, and get to try again). many thanks to that beautiful man and his little dog…and to you for being what you want to see in our beautiful shared world.
with heart,
anna
ps – if this story met you somewhere tender, you’re warmly invited to join the dreaming otter email list, at the bottom of this page. from time to time I send out new writings – small lanterns for the path.
