Stranger To Me

Growth, etc.

Welcome back folks, and thanks for reading. As I sit here and type this, I have a new puppy sleeping next to my feet. Dottie is her name, a 9-week-old Havanese that is equal parts demanding terrorist and affectionate ball of love. My wife and I getting a puppy has been a long time in the works, and to plan for it and then bring her home was/is a surreal experience. I never grew up with pets, and truthfully most animals intimidated me until I met my wife’s Havanese when we first started dating (my post That Barking Dog from last year will reaffirm that very real intimidation I felt even last year). Since then, I’ve gained affection and comfort with dogs/pets little by little, until we finally made the jump to get our own.

For most people, getting something like a puppy wouldn’t lead to an identity crisis, or put them in a vulnerable state where they feel overwhelmed not only by love but also by disruption to routine. As we prepped for adding this family member, I would feel interlocking waves of excitement and dread about caring for something else and being responsible. It’s easy to love someone else’s dog when you can go back to your own home at the end of the day, it’s a different story when you’re the one that is the home. In truth this fear has followed me throughout most of my life, that I wasn’t emotionally ready for the unpredictability of raising something from the ground up, putting my wants on the back burner, and doing something I might be bad at.

It took me a while to come to terms with that fact. In truth, it’s embarrassing to admit that I struggle with it, that I would easily rather go through my days expecting someone to take care of my problems, to allow routine to fill in all of the cracks in my day until there was nothing new to anticipate, drift off into a state of sameness and predictability. I went through most of my adult life thinking I was ready at any moment to take on that kind of responsibility and put my own needs in the background. In reality, that kind of life change and responsibility necessitates having your shit figured out.

“We must try to see each other in this way. As suffering, limited beings, perennially outmatched by circumstances…” George Saunders

There’s a real sense of vulnerability in admitting to yourself and others that you’re scared and don’t feel as capable as you thought you were. It takes a real sense of courage to stop in your tracks and to say you don’t know how an experience will go, that you are going into something that will more than likely enrich your life but not immediately. To not mask that vulnerability with anger or frustration, but with care towards yourself is the ultimate goal, but difficult nonetheless.

Some would say it’s just a dog that we’re raising, that this level of anxiety I feel is disproportionate. But when you’ve never expected this kind of responsibility out of yourself, it doesn’t matter if it’s a dog, a kid, or a pet rock. It’s a new expectation and standard you’re setting for yourself, a breaking down of walls and ideas you’ve made about yourself. In truth, you’re working to kill a myth about yourself, one that you had made and one that can only be deconstructed by its creator.

As I move forward on this path, I’m anxious to see how I’m going to grow from it. What raising and nurturing something from the ground up will bring into my life, and what character traits will reveal themselves. What consistently doing voluntary, hard things will do for my life outlook. In truth, this process sometimes means throwing an element of chaos into the mix just to see what happens. Sometimes the chaos is involuntary, and sometimes you willingly add it into the mix. I’ve had a lot of hard things happen to me that I didn’t have a say in, but the ones I willingly choose have been some of the best decisions for my personal development and growth.

Thanks again, and talk soon.