Building a Mystery November 5, 2013

Mystery solved. Today, amidst a shared moment of joy from the ground up, I figured it out. Which came first – the chicken or the egg?

The epiphany happened during a game I invented to bring laughter into the Schmidt house at any given moment. The best part is my people never see it coming. If you’ve ever seen a dog initiate play with another dog, you’ll be able to picture it. The game begins with me with my butt in the air, tail wagging. Then mom or dad pretend to grab something out of thin air and hide it under a pillow or a blanket or even the kangaroo pocket on what they call a sweatshirt.

And I always take the bait. I chase the invisible prize wherever it goes – under the pillows, through the blankets, inside the sweatshirt, I stop at nothing to claim victory. By the end, my people are as out of breath from laughing as I am from chasing.  It’s really quite the ruse.

I’m convinced my beloved people think this is all their idea. That they came up with this game, and that I must not realize its only air I’m chasing. And I can’t say I’d ever want them to think otherwise.

Because victory isn’t the invisible prize. No sir. It’s the laughter, the contagious joy, that happens in these precious silly moments. Tonight the moment lasted a good 10 minutes, which allowed me time to reflect on the mystery of the joy contagion.

“Joy is not in things,” German musician Richard Wagner suggested, “it is in us.”

It is oddly reflective of the chicken and the egg debacle. Which comes first, my happiness or the joy of my people? I solved the mystery tonight. Today, amidst a shared moment of joy from the ground up, I figured it out. Which comes first – the chicken or the egg? It doesn’t really matter. “Since you get more joy out of giving joy to others,” beloved American first lady Eleanor Roosevelt said, “you should put a good deal of thought into the happiness that you are able to give.” Mystery solved.

Advertisement

Peace Be With You April 21, 2013

Yesterday I came across a vision in white. At first, I was blinded by it. Beauty that breathtaking can do that to a man (er, I mean a dog). She looked like a princess.

It happened after a longer-than-usual Saturday drive to what I thought was going to be my grandma’s house. Let’s just say I was excited to go see grandma and my cousin Buddy. When dad took a different turn on the freeway, I was a different kind of excited; I was curious about where we were going instead.

We ended up at the home of two of my favorite little people Sophie and Sam (and their parents, of course). From there, we caravanned to a church, where it is my understanding that Sophie had her first Eucharist. I didn’t get to go inside the church, as much as I wish I could have. Instead, I waited patiently in the car, and enjoyed a fabulous afternoon nap in the warmth of an incredibly bright strange and foreign object to our corner of the world lately (also known as the sun).

As bummed as I may have been not to get to attend the service, it turned out it the service came to me on our way back to the house for the party that followed. Mom and dad were talking about some of the messages, and I can see why. They were too good not to share.

The priest began the special message with an analogy about what it meant to him when he finally got promoted to being able to sit at the adult table instead of the kiddie table. He was in awe of the stunning china, beautiful flatware and crystal wine glasses, which were a far cry from the paper plates, plastic napkins and red Solo cups of his past. But if you don’t bring anything to the potluck, there’s nothing to get. (Except maybe some Brussels sprouts, which I don’t think anyone appreciates). I was thinking about the power behind that message and it applies in so many facets of life.

If you don’t show up for the game, there’s no game to be played. If you don’t bring treats to dog training classes, you probably won’t get anywhere. And if you don’t bring an open heart and mind to church, you will be closed off to the impactful messages it has to offer. If we listen with open hearts and minds, it will come. It reminds me a bit of obedience school: we dogs become man’s best friend through obedience and mutual understanding of our roles in each other’s lives.

Near the end of the service comes my favorite part, when the (incredibly packed) church apparently all offered their words of peace and encouragement to each other. Peace be with you, they said, to surrounding loved ones and strangers alike. Hugs were given, smiles were shared, and peace was present amidst what has arguably been one of the more challenging weeks for us as a country.

Yesterday, I witnessed a vision in white that brought a special kind of glow to the Schmidt family. (It breathed spirit into three of my other favorite little people who I was blessed to see as well). Like beauty, wisdom can blind us with its honesty sometimes.

Even though I heard it all secondhand, the wise messages that came to them on Sophie’s special day lived up to their reputation. “It isn’t enough to talk about peace, one must believe in it, ” the  well-known former first lady Eleanor Roosevelt once said. “And it isn’t enough to believe in it, one must work at it.” Let’s work together find peace in the simple things, joy in the blessings in life, and appreciation for what it means to sit at the big kid’s table. Peace be with you all.

A Lesson In Storytelling February 6, 2013

I enjoy my life as an observer of people. Sometimes they do the silliest things. Like when mom and dad throw Mrs. Prickles around in the living room, and I’m the pickle in the middle. I’m not stupid – I know what they’re doing. But I play along and dart around trying to steal my precious toy back from them because it makes me so happy to see them giggling like ninnies. I revel in the moments when happiness is contagious.

One thing I have observed is how easy it seems to see the differences in people than the things they have in common. Here we are together on our journeys through life in this beautiful world, all of us asking questions like who am I? Where am I going in life? What are my hopes and dreams? How do I accomplish them?

It reminds me of a song in Paint Your Wagon. “Where am I going? I don’t know. When will I get there? I ain’t certain. All that I know is I am on my way.”

We are all on our way to somewhere. Granted, somewhere is different for everyone, but today I’m focusing on what we have in common: the journey. Moreover, the choices we make along the way. Different as the circumstances may be, we all make choices that ultimately shape our lives. (As a dog, I rely on my mom and dad to make the majority of choices for me, but you get the idea).

“One’s philosophy is not best expressed in words,” the great and elegant Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “it is expressed in the choices we make.”

In Simple Abundance, Sarah Ban Breathnach speaks of the power we have to remake our world by establishing rhythm to our lives. But rhythm, like most things, is not always easy for people to master. It takes time, practice and commitment to make the right choices. But we’re all in this together. There is support out there if we can put aside the differences and remember we are all on the journey together.

“In the long run, we shape our lives, and we shape ourselves,” Roosevelt said.

As an observer of people, I think its fascinating that all people have something so simple in common. They are their own storytellers. This inquiring mind wants to know – what does your story look like?