WHY? Why This Torture?

For most of my life, I was a human chihuahua. Tiny, fierce, and territorial, like most small dogs, what I lacked in size and strength I made up for in exasperating behavior born of fear. Fortunately, I was hilarious, otherwise no one would have ever loved or befriended me (chihuahuas are cute but annoying). I had that nervous Mach 4 with my hair on fire kind of energy that’s fun at a frat party but no bueno in daily life. My fierce bully nature masked a quaking ball of fear in my belly. I was a tough girl, scared to death.

The great news is that I’ve morphed into a black lab—an empty-headed dog who loves to nap in the sun and follow my nose. Gone is the ankle-biting defensiveness, the default boxer’s stance I took at every turn, dukes up, ready to bite. I am an Italian (recovering) attorney from Philly, which is pretty much the trifecta of anger. If I didn’t change something, I’d continue burning the ground beneath my feet.

The human mind is wild and uncontained, like a feral pup shredding the furniture and pooping everywhere. Look around your house, neighborhood, workplace, and country, and see the devastation wrought by our untrained psyches. What if we could teach our minds to be loyal companions, good dogs, instead of destructive enemies harping at us day and night?  If you can train a little doggie to leave the destruction and listen up, you can direct yourself right onto the path of peace of mind. 

Learning to sit and stay still is a hero’s journey, especially in a culture that demands ACTION. The evil geniuses of Silicon Valley have primed our brains to respond immediately, constantly searching for the dopamine hit of gratification of desires we didn’t even know we had. Every ping and ring makes us zing; we are asleep at the wheel, abdicating our agency to the gods of hate, fear, and consumerism. 

Once I got the hang of meditation - and it took years - I became the alpha dog of my own life. The challenges for me were legion: I was scared that by meditating I’d become like the quiet, hemp-wearing, non-swearing gorgeous folks sitting cross-legged in some meadow. Not only was that picture unattainable for me, a mouthy tattooed girl from Philly, but it didn’t look fun. Those people seemed boring, and I love to laugh and dance. Would I still be funny? Would I still have fun?  On a deeper level I was terrified of what would happen if I just shut the fuck up. Would my demons show up and scare me to death?

Spoiler alert: I didn’t die, and yes, my demons showed up by the dozens, but I just stepped back. With love and patience, I decided to heal. We’ve all seen that human dragged around by a ferocious, untrained, big dog who wants their way. But healing is like heeling - we can teach our pain and trauma to walk quietly beside us. It never goes away, so we might as well learn to befriend it and teach it exactly how to accompany us. As I sat in silence, often shaking with anxiety, I learned not just to sit and stay, but to LEAVE IT! Those toxic thoughts that are pulling me in all directions? I simply say: NO, No, Phyllis. PUT IT DOWN.

How amazing would it be if even a fraction of the people on Earth learned to be good dogs? What if our leaders had clarity, focus, and open minds? These are the gifts that come organically when we learn to sit still. But training a puppy is not for the faint of heart, and “results” (the holy grail of our culture) will take time. It’s so worth it, though, because our minds can be a powerful, magnificent ally every step of our day. 

Tired of the constant yapping between your ears, the wild destruction of your untamed mind? We can (and have to) learn to train our puppy minds because all this noise and chaos isn’t serving us. With quiet, stillness, and access to all our wisdom, life (which is ruff) can genuinely become a walk in the park.