Finding Peace

I've written and rewritten this post. Perhaps this will finally be the version that encapsulates all I want to say.

I don't know which way is up. Life has slammed me. Again. And again. And again. I've been reeling and I can't catch my breath.

As always, when I'm able to reframe within terms I know, there's both comfort and clarity.

I work often with reactive dogs, fear aggressive dogs, insecurity based resource guarding (ie resource guarding). I've watch on repeat, for years, a dog's brain get caught in a relentless loop, where the dog is trapped reacting. Dogs have people to help with that; people who can help manage their environment, create distance, advocate for them. Not every dog gets the help they need (and not every dog is helpable), but we have the infrastructure to set them up to be more successful.

That's not to say humans don't have that, but it's harder, reserved for those visibly in crisis. And even then, there's so many that belittle social work and those who support those who need help.

In truth, I don't think advocacy and support is wider spread in dogs, but I live it with dogs and can make a difference in that venue. When it comes to humanity, I feel like so many are left flailing. Drowning.

I spent yesterday afternoon after work calmly going through the domestic routine. We rotated through dogs, since we have two bitches in season. But even the puppies were good. They went in and out in the nice spring weather while the girls helped clean up the truck in preparation for a trip to the beach. We cooked dinner together - happy, easy, smiling and laughing.

Was life easy? No. The dogs all picked up a stomach bug at the last show and it's been running its course and less than fun. The boy dogs have been very good considering we have bitches near standing heat, and rotation is a pain. The puppies are in that between stage - housetraining rockstars or utter messes, and a stomach bug certainly doesn't help that.

But the old dogs are doing well. The kids smiled and laughed and helped in a way that made life easier. The food was good and the weather fair.

That's all I want. I dearly wish drama would stop finding me, us. When all we want is peace.

I want to be clear. I am taking the time to write this because it helps me. But I know so well, I am far from alone.

I know I've been trapped in a cycle. The same cycle my client dogs get trapped in. Stimulus. Coping strategy. Stimulus. Coping strategy. Stimulus. Avoidance. Stimulus. A stutter, but then avoidance. Stimulus. Emotional reaction. Stimulus. Emotional reaction.

The endless onslaught of triggers and pressures in the modern world is something that is far from unique to dogs. And eventually stimuli has come too hard, too fast, and too often. And you spend all your time trying to exist, play catch up, in an impossible game of tag. When your nervous system is under that mind-bending pressure, particularly for an extended period (I know many people are going on years of stress, essentially since the pandemic), clarity becomes out of reach - not even a luxury, an impossibility.

The solution? With dogs, one of the first steps is distance; distance from the triggers to create clarity of mind. I'm not a perfect human. I make mistakes. But in dogs, this is a solid tactic and in humans, the counterpart is slowing life down, creating mindfulness, and protecting your peace. At least, that's the only counterpart I've found that helps.

I want to feel good about daily living. I want to enjoy my dogs and not be stressed rushing from place to place with the journey bringing little beyond stress and pressure. I want to find pleasure in the journey again.

That's really my only goal right now. To find joy. To protect my peace and that of my family.

Looking through my pictures of the last three weeks, they tell the story of this post. They share moments that are more irrereplacable that standing on the green carpet in New York.