Pet Resentments
Growing up, we had a Corgi-Terrier mixed dog named Bonnie. When I was in the sixth grade, we picked her up from the Palo Alto Humane Society, and she was basically the Bay Area bargain of the century, costing all of $22 including shots. Aside from prize-goldfish won at the school carnival, I had never had a pet before and had grossly underestimated the nature of the responsibilities of pet care. I mean this thing needed to be walked, have its’ poop picked up, and be fed several times a day. Veterinary visits, grooming, and had to be spayed. Once when we were out of town, Bonnie managed to get into a bag of chocolate chips and a package of Lawry’s taco seasoning. After consuming said items, she basically went ballistic in the backyard. According to our neighbor, Bonnie ran around in circles for hours before gaining enough momentum to run up the side of our firewood pile and propelled herself into the front yard where she proceeded to run sprints up and down the street, in between random episodes of violent diarrhea. She was quite the spectacle and provided hours of entertainment on our quiet Mountain View street. As many pet owners do, we have many similar stories from years and years of memories of life with Bonnie.
Fast forward to current times. My husband and kids and I have 2 Maltese dogs, a brother and sister. We have plenty of household help to assist us with our kids and pets, so the logistics of pet ownership don’t bother me too much- but these 2 little dogs will bark incessantly at anything—I mean anything. A car can drive down the street. A lark can be heard singing a melodious tune from a tree in the backyard. A person can simply be walking by our house minding their own business and these dogs act like they are freaking twin rabid dogs from Stephen King’s 1981 thriller, Cujo. These dogs are so small, and yet they act as if they are 6 times their size, and have zero problem approaching people or other animals who are much larger in stature and acting as if they’re some kind of bigshots. Those dogs are perceiving fear…. Either from past attacks, or recognizing the potential that they might not be safe, it’s instinctual. But if they look at the truth…. No one is out to get them. They have no haters. They are not living out in the wild, easy prey for larger animals to target. Nope. They sit on their butts on cushy warm blankets, beds and leather couches and loaf around my house all day long, only rising to run to the door and go bark relentlessly at some perceived threat through the door. They are essentially at war with themselves.
Resentments. Past offenses. Past “justified angers”. Past choices. Past relationships. Past victimizations. All too often I have found myself wallowing in these scenarios and letting them hold me captive. And I can’t get those hours of my life back, which is sobering. I have seen so many countless examples in my life and the lives of others where the idea of moving on seems unfathomable. I have used and seen others use frothly excuses of circumstances that have occurred in our pasts to dictate how I and others behave in the present. It’s so easy to say, “Well, I behave this way because XXXXX happened to me.” And loving and understanding people nod and tend to reply with comforting, condoning words like “Oh, you poor thing. Of course you behave that way. Who wouldn’t.”
It’s much harder to say, “XXXXX happened to me and I chose to get help and work through it instead of letting it turn me into a bitter, scorned person.” I have dear friends in both camps, and to me, the healthier, more attractive souls are the latter. I know people who have gone through profoundly horrific life situations and come out the other side not only stronger, but actually GRATEFUL they were victimized or so profoundly hurt. Because it catapulted them into a life of healing and the ability to serve others beyond what they could ever imagine. They used their puncture to find purpose; to be of service, to help others, to always be the softest place for others to fall.
There is a lovely saying, “Never be defined by your past. It was just a lesson, not a life sentence.” How true I find this saying to be. These days I find that pasts are just pasts. They are like my perceived “mistakes”—which are really just episodes containing varying degrees of usefulness. No big deal. Make a perceived mistake, make amends, move on. I used to regularly ruminate over shit for days. I worried endlessly about what others thought about me. I suffered from perfectionism run rampant… which I never realized is just a form of selfishness.
I’ve thought in recent times that I was completely over that. Past it. Totally no longer a willing victim to perfectionism. But things will pop up unexpectedly where it’s clear I’m still very capable of reverting back to my old self and choosing impression management/people pleasing, and the root of that is fear. Fear can quickly become the corroding thread that rules one’s life, long before one can even recognize it. Fear that someone will perceive me in a way I don’t want to be perceived, fear that someone will misunderstand me, fear that I will cause someone else inconvenience or harm and it will be a reflection on me. What’s that all about? Self-centerdness. And I don’t mind saying that because it took me years to see it for what it is. I never had the self-awareness before to recognize it’s just a form of arrogance that needs to be addressed and worked through. I can put it in a pretty box labeled “people pleasing” but underneath, really it’s just martyrdom. When I recognize that root and face it, it’s much easier to let it go and move on with my life quickly so I can be a productive member of society. After all….”ain’t nobody got time for that.” J
So now when I’m at that crossroad… when my mind and heart perceives something that I’m interpreting as a hurt, a resentment, an attack from others, or an episode that is a perceived mistake that I’ve made …. I get to choose. Should I care for it like a pet? Spend time and money on it, groom it, walk it, feed and water it? I have spent lots of time coddling resentments in my life and keeping them alive like some guinea pig in a cage… providing the resentment with fresh water, changing the woodchips. Insanity!
Should I grip onto a resentment, choice, or past perceived offense with all my strength? Never let it go, for days, perhaps years upon years? Well let me think about what will happen if I do. If I pick up anything- a weight at the gym, if I grip the steering wheel tightly while driving, even if I squeeze the hell out of a stress ball….. eventually the pain will become too great for me to continue gripping. Pain will sear though my forearms, hands, fingers….. until I can bear the pain no more. I will decide the pain is not worth the price. In the letting go, I will find rest, relief. Maybe I won’t find joy and peace, at least immediately…. But I will be able to breathe and melt into the mild, sweet comfort of letting something be just as it is. Because in the end, I don’t know what’s good for me, what lessons can be learned from the journey and how they can be used to help another person someday. And that’s what it’s all about…. Being willing to get out of self and be available to come alongside another child of God and hold their hand and say “I’ve been there, too.” OR… grab a leash and guide that pet resentment on a walk around the block, to get fresh air and a new perspective. Perhaps on that walk, I’ll discover that pet resentment doesn’t actually need to be a resentment after all. J