Let me start by saying how much I hate
little dogs. Why do I hate them? I could go on and on about how they
look like rats, how they're disgustingly pampered, how their owners
treat them like accessories, how they bark endlessly etc, etc. But
just today I realized the real
reason I hate little dogs. All the other reasons are just excuses,
whereas this is the heart of the matter: little dogs are afraid
of everything!
Where
I live there are two little dogs that live upstairs. Each and every
time I go upstairs they bark their heads off at me. At first I
thought they were just mean, but then I realized that they were
simply terrified of me. If I called out to them as I walked up the
stairs, they wouldn't bark as often because they recognized my voice
and knew I wasn't a threat. They were afraid of everything and
everyone they didn't know.
That explains the
incessant barking. It also explains the lack of open, authentic, and
shameless love that bigger dogs give to humans, even perfect
strangers. Think of a golden retriever – even if he doesn't know
you from Adam (or Eve), he loves you from the minute you meet with an
open heart that doesn't hold anything back. Not so a chihuahua. A
chihuahua will bark at you from the moment you meet...until three
months later when he finally decides to put aside his fear and
classify you as “not a threat.” But even then you're not a
friend, you're merely “not an enemy”. How terribly sad!
This lead me to
discover (or rather, be able to properly name and verbalize) an
important truth: fear prevents connection.
Once you state it
like that (and give it a second of honest consideration) you realize
this isn't rocket science. Fear is an emotion that consumes. It
smothers and overpowers practically all other emotions. It encourages
you to keep your distance from the world, and leads you to believe
the worst in every situation.
For connection to
occur, you have to be open and authentic. You have to trust the
goodness and intentions of the other person, and believe in them. You
have to hope for the best. And above all, you have to give love
first, and receive it second. The terrified chihuahua waits to
receive unconditional love first, then slowly opens up and eventually
returns it.
The discouraging
part is that fear comes to all of us so naturally. Which means we
have to develop a way of life that actively and continuously
suppresses fear and the connection destroying reactions (as opposed
to actions) that accompany it. The encouraging part is that fear is
part of the self – so if you get outside of your self and
concentrate your time and energies on other people instead, the fear
naturally disappears. Turn your thoughts back inward toward yourself
and the fear will return.
An interesting observation is that we
are simultaneously scary and scared. We are at once the tiny dog and
the threatening human. It's easy to feel intimidated or unworthy. But
other people probably feel the same way; so we are at once large and
threatening, and tiny and scared.
We can draw two conclusions from this.
One, be nice – other people are scared of you, whether you feel
scary or not. And two, don't be frightened of what others can do to
you. I say this not because they can't hurt you – because we all
know they can. I say it because you can never connect with anyone if
you're always afraid of everyone who comes up the stairs.
