It’s kind of like hitting your hind legs on the footboard jumping up on the bed. Or getting your leash wrapped around the tree in the backyard when the sky is crying. Or being left at home alone for the majority of a weekend day.
Each of these things can make me feel emotionally handicapped in the most bizarre way. I know everything will be all right – the shooting pain in my hind legs is sure to pass, my fur will dry from the rain, and my parents will return from their so-called errands – but there is something unsettling about when these bumps in the road happen.
As I soaked up some sun in my backyard this afternoon, I questioned why these occasional stumbles (physical or otherwise) have such a power to bring down my otherwise optimistic spirit. Stuff happens. Life moves on. Or does it? I remember thinking my life was over when I first was separated from my mom and brothers. And again when I lost Rusty to doggie heaven. And again when that family returned me to the humane society citing my alleged behavioral problems.
Suddenly it made sense to me. These stumbling blocks seem to have a way of bringing my past into my present. At the root of all my stumbles is the same useless emotion: worry. I know it’s not a four-letter word in people language but it is in my world. Worry is the handicap!
Yet I worry my parents got a higher bed so I wouldn’t jump on it anymore. (Don’t they like our cuddle time?) I worry maybe my forever parents will take a book from previous chapters of my life and forget about me outside, leaving me in the rain to shiver and fend for myself. (Don’t they love me anymore?) I worry that maybe they’ll never come back from wherever they go when they run errands. (Will anyone else ever love me like they do?)
Worry, worry, worry. It’s a nasty little habit for a practicing optimist to conquer. It’s one I don’t frequently even address out of sheer embarrassment that people won’t take me (and my joy) seriously if I admit to my weaknesses. But there is strength in admitting to our shortcomings, not only in the truth of the admission itself but in what it means for the future. It’s easy to push aside being a worrier. To hide it away in a place in my heart I don’t want anyone to know about.
But I’ve never been one to take the easy road, especially in matters of the heart. So worry be gone. I cast you away like the bad habit you are. Starting today, I will make an effort to see life’s stumbling blocks not as triggers for worry. “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow,” Dutch Christian activist Corrie Ten Boom once said. “It empties today of its strength.” I’d much rather seek strength in knowing everything will be all right than add any unnecessary sorrow to my days.
Wiley's Wisdom 
Such a cute picture. Don’t they love to cuddle on the bed. My little one gives me a backache, but she loves to be cuddled right against me. You’d think she weighed 100 pounds instead of 9! 🙂
Yes we all do love our cuddling. They call me snugglebug sometimes. But I know the trick all too well – us canines can make ourselves feel like we weigh about four times as much as we actually do when we are really (really) comfortable in a given spot. 🙂
Rumpy, how much do you weigh then. You must weigh tons more than your humans at that rate! 🙂
I’ve been told I weigh about 20 pounds, but it’s a dog thing -when we lay limp we can seem like we weigh so much more. My parents would testify to this. 🙂
Amen to that, Rumpy! 🙂
Don’t worry Wiley, your mom and dad will love you furrever! I wuv yoootoooowooowoooo! Ku
Furever and ever. Thanks Ku!
It happens to everyone, and in time you will learn not to worry quite so much, although the full worry may not go away! Typist was very badly bullied in a previous job, to the extend two different gps told her never to return to that office for the good of her health. Two years and a complete career change later, sometimes she is still transported back.
I absolutely despise all things bully. I believe it happens everywhere and it breaks my heart. I’m so glad she’s gotten to move on, and hope the transports to the past aren’t too horribly painful. The present is our “present” to enjoy after all. Lots of love to you and dear typist!
Thank you! Completely off topic, but I never received your email pal!
Ugh. I tried the other email addresses last night. Still nothing? Why don’t you try me at wileyschmidt@gmail.com?
I worry a lot, too, W. That Dutch guy is right – it does tap my strength. Like you, I need to cast it away, and forget my distant past and focus on my recent past. Mom always DOES come home. The street sign DOESN’T hurt me. The golf cart goes past without incident. And the mailman hasn’t killed me, yet, so maybe that’s not why he comes here every day.
Love and licks and things are good,
Cupcake
Dear Cupcake,
Yes, I have in strictest confidence that you are very well loved by your mom. No need to worry dear friend. Also your comment about the mailman made me giggle. Thanks for being a pal.
Lots of love,
Wiles
Corrie Ten Boom…the old woman Slow said you jogged her memory on that one, Wiley. If you can jog that every once in a while, you’ve accomplished something. Most of the time she doesn’t remember which episode of NCIS she just watched an hour ago. Don’t worry, though, she still remembers the important stuff like when it’s time for me to have a treat! 🙂
I’m so glad I could jog the memory! And perhaps trigger you getting a treat perhaps…? 🙂
Wiley, these are definitely wise words to live by! This dog mom is admittedly a constant worrier! I not only worry about aspects of my own life but also everything in relation to Taylor’s life! And I have a feeling my anxiety rubs off on Taylor! 😦 So, I will keep this post in mind going forward! And reading Corrie Ten Boom’s quote was a clear wake-up call as well!
Reading your comment affirmed the truth – Taylor is lucky to have you! Worry is indeed contagious, but not nearly as much as happiness and love. 🙂
Awww…thank you so much, Wiley! 🙂
Once again you show your wisdom Wiley…Thank you
Thank you, dear Gizmo! High paw!
Sometimes I feel the same – but after a while it is gone and I’m back to my old me. Aas I was a puppy I had a footrest on my bed feor an easy (haha) entry and exit – maybe this would work for you too?
That footrest is a good suggestion! I’m no puppy, but I am a bit puppy sized (or at least I feel that way sometimes). Thanks for the idea pal!
Worry be gone. I hope Finn and Charley know they have nothing to worry about. As do you little buddy.
You’re very right. And I’m certain Finn and Charley know better than to worry with the loving forever parents they have. 😉
Oh, what a great suggestion for jumping the foot-board, Wiley: a footrest – yes! Gives you a lift up, as you do us every day. 🙂 Once again, you called it right when you wrote that worry is contagious, but not as much as happiness and love. I truly believe that, Wiles. Best ~ HuntMode
Thank you for making such a kind comparison of me to the footrest picking folks up each day. Words like yours bring an indescribable joy to my soul. Thank you. Lots of love to the entire HuntMode clan!
Reblogged this on Wiley's Wisdom and commented:
On life moving on….these things happen.