Black Dogs

When I was about three years old, a black Labrador retriever bit me. According to reports from my mother, we were camping, and the dog was tied to a post in the site next to us. At some point, I must have wandered over to pet the doggie (which, as anyone who has ever seen a well-meaning but uncoordinated toddler knows, was probably more like slapping at the dog’s face), and agitated him. At that point, he nipped at me, and tore my ear.

For quite some time after that, I was afraid of all black dogs. As a young child, I had no ability to differentiate size and temperament as disqualifiers for my fear of the dog. Poodles and Dobermans were equal on my list. As I matured, of course, I learned that one black dog, in one particular circumstance, was not a predictor of the behavior of all black dogs. In fact, I even owned a black dog for awhile. This beautiful, black Chow was trained as a hearing dog. She was smart, even tempered, and lovable. I would have missed enjoying an incredible pet, if I would have continued to harbor my fear and prejudice against all black dogs. How grateful I am that my memory of being bitten taught me to avoid agitated, angry, barking, chained, growling things I don’t understand, and not all black dogs!

Thinking of this makes me wonder how many other “black dogs” I have in my past. How many of the other things I avoid, like relationships with coworkers, managers, men, or would-be friends, or stepping out to chase certain dreams, like starting a business, asking for what I want, or living in the moment, are a result of me over-generalizing a particular situation? While it is true that there is a lesson to be learned from failure, pain or stress, and the definition of insanity is to do the same thing and expect different results, I wonder how often I expand that “doing the same thing,” into a grand over-generalization, and get in my own way?

I have started businesses (the black dog) that have failed. Does that mean that I shouldn’t continue to try to build a business from my love of Living in Joy? Or does it just mean that I need to find a way to correct my areas of weakness, like marketing (the growling thing I don’t understand), for example? And how many of these black-dog-generalizations are the voices that strip me of my confidence and ability to persevere?

“You can’t be happy working for someone else. You can’t have the flexible schedule you want. All managers care about are the company rules.”

“Remember the last girl-friend you trusted with all your secrets, and she used them against you? Don’t get close to any women, again. They are all catty and devious.”

I recently read that the “Black Dog,” is a term widely used to refer to depression. I can tell you that these black-dog-generalizations, as I have chosen to call them based on my literal experience with an actual black dog, depress me. I don’t feel joy when I think these things. I don’t feel motivated, or excited, or enthusiastic about life, love or happiness. The good news is: I don’t have to think them. I don’t have to be like the child who misinterprets the real safety message about avoiding growling things as a message to avoid all black coats. I can, instead, view the situation with my adult eyes and see where the threat really is, so that I can mitigate that to the best of my ability. I can take ownership of my contribution to the adverse outcome (I don't slap at dogs on chains, anymore, for example), and stop that behavior. And I can move forward, chasing dreams, and buliding a life of joy.