New tricks for an old dog

beautywalk Sandra Butel dogs Mexico Todos Santos Baja California self compassion habits Dr. Jud people pleaser imposter syndrome — *Put a lid on it baby (it’s free)* Photo by Sandra Butel

I am Sandra Butel and this is my beautywalk.

beautywalk is the steps I take on my own or with friends and/or dogs by my side as I look for new insights into what being human is all about.

A dog’s life

After more than a year’s hiatus I find myself back in my role as caretaker and beloved human for someone else’s dogs. For the last 20 days my partner Francis and I have been resting our heads on someone else’s pillows on the ground floor of a two story hacienda in the small village of Todos Santos on the Pacific side of the southern coast of Baja California.

In that magic sort of way that things seem to happen in my life now that I am (as a friend of mine liked to say) at least partially ‘fun-employed’ this opportunity comes to me at the exact right moment in time. Summer in Verdun is winding down and our days of hanging at the beach, riding our bicycles to our favourite brewery (Messorem for those who are curious) or along the picturesque and lively canal are drawing to a close. I am beginning to wonder what winter is going to be like in our newly adopted hometown and am dreading the thought of snow boots and slippery sidewalks as I sadly watch Francis drag my beloved bicycle up the curved stairs to our second floor apartment where she will be stored for the winter. Francis, who is much more a lover of winter and snow than I am, is ready for the season to come with all of its opportunities to lace up his ski boots and skates and put his stick back down on the ice again.

I think to myself:

What better way to ease into winter in Montreal than to spend 30 days in the sunlight and blue skies and salty surf of Mexico?

If only …

If I am honest, there might be some wishful thinking at play here as well. In my eagerness to move away from the daily pressures I am feeling in my efforts (and lack of efforts) at writing my first memoir, I am engaged in the kind of thinking that goes something like this, “If I get myself to Mexico then: a) I will find great ease in writing the book while I am there b) I will have so many other things to do that I won’t have time to write it and I will just stop pressuring myself and give myself a break from it all or c) upon my return I will be so relaxed that the writing will just flow out of me like nobody’s business. I call this ‘If Only’ thinking. Like, “If only I could lose 10 pounds, “If only he would love me better,” “If only I could get that job, win that prize, buy that house, car, trinket, wardrobe” then I will be happy, complete, content, no longer anxious, etc.

Living the dream

The dogs are a bit of an afterthought to my decision making in accepting the offer and I all but forget the responsibility and need for adjustment that comes with every petsit. The draw of the heat and the sand and the lushness of palm trees and my clear memories of Bougainvilleas of pink, red, white and coral as well as the special sort of feeling I get when I am surrounded by the laid back energy of Mexican people is what sells me on the idea. I set myself the task of convincing Francis that he too wants what this often visited country has to offer to us both - the sights, the sounds, the flavours, the experiences - that we have enjoyed together so many times before. I do what I often do when being asked to make a decision and set about doing research on what the town and area of Todos Santos has to offer.

(Here is the video that the pet owner sends that clinches it for us, with all of the tips for getting the most of your time here - just in case you are yourself tempted to give it a try too. We highly recommend the Birria tortas and have been there no less than 6 times in the 2 weeks we have been here and will, without a doubt, go again!)

The offer itself seems to come out of nowhere, which is to my writer’s mind a large part of its appeal, the magic of the universe winking at me across the miles. What all starts with a chance encounter with two friendly and entertaining Americans on a boat trip that Francis and I took in Thailand’s Khao Sok National Park two years ago to the day, has ended with an invitation that is, in my estimation, too good to refuse.

So off we go, small backpacks snug on our backs, hearts 1/2 way excited and 1/2 way not quite sure what kind of adventure we will find. At one point in our day of travel Francis turns to me and says, “So how many dogs are there anyways?” A bit of a catch in my throat as I realize that I do not know the answer. A shrug of my shoulders and a casual, “three, I think,” is what I eventually reply.

The adventure begins

Our host D greets us at the airport with the first of the dogs, a small Chihuahua named Tucker, standing at attention on the front seat, his body tense and ready. He doesn’t seem so sure about us and I wonder for the first time since saying yes to the sit, “What the hell was I thinking?” We catch up on lost time with D happily pointing out this landmark and that and generally making sure we have all the information and supplies we need to make our time here as enjoyable as possible. The day flies by quickly and soon we are left alone with Tucker and the other two dogs, Mele and Cual, both rescues who live outside in the courtyard.

Not what I expected

The first night is the worst. Tucker has not warmed to our presence and when we try to take him with us to grab some much needed food he growls and snaps at us so much that we finally have no choice but to leave him behind. Later, when returning to the house, stomachs happy with the delicious food that now rests inside but still queasy with doubt as we question the wisdom of our Mexican pet sit adventure, we find quite the cacophony going on. Poor little Tucker is so heartbroken to be without his beloved human that he spends the whole rest of the night howling in what sounds to be agony. The other two dogs join in with howls and barks and let’s just say that nobody in the vicinity gets any sleep that night.

This is not at all what I have been expecting and I am struggling with simply being here in this place, at this time, in this particular circumstance. My lizard brain has a lot of thoughts about how I don’t have a clue what I am doing. My old friend ‘imposter syndrome’ is trying its best to prove again that it is always right. It’s the end of the world for all of us. At least that is how it seems. It continues like this for a few nights, and even the neighbours chime in with all sorts of opinions of what solutions there might be to what we all fear will go on forever in this way. This is human drama at its best and I find myself getting impatient and wanting this all to just go away. The “If Only” habit comes back in - If only I hadn’t said yes to this pet sit.

Gradually time passes (as it always does) and Tucker lets us get closer and we take turns lying on the couch with him so that he will stop howling and activating the other two members of the ‘barkershop’ trio. Each of us gets a little bit of sleep and we feel that sense of accomplishment one gets when you notice even a tiny bit of improvement to a situation that seemed completely impossible just a short time before. We remind one another that everything changes and that as Abraham Lincoln so famously said, “this too shall pass”. We start to understand that the dogs are just doing their duty, protecting their property from the presence of interlopers. A passing conversation with the gardener confirms it, “A small town like Todos Santos doesn’t have the resources for a large police force so dogs are on duty 24 hours a day.”

Playing in the waves

We take frequent trips to Cerritos Beach nearby, eventually doing the math and splurging on our very own boogie board from one of the two surf shops in town as we reason that it will only take 7 days of the saved daily rental fee to make our money back. What a joy it is to throw my 57 year old body down onto its brand new surface, letting the force of the waves push me playfully on my way. I turn my head to the left and notice a little black haired boy, the grin on his face matching mine, as he catches the very same wave that takes us both all the way to where the water ends at the shore. What joy I take in seeing Francis catch his very own wave and the spring in his step as he stands and turns, the board in hand, eager and ready for more.

Tucker is with us and is tied to one or the other of the lawn chairs that our hosts so generously provided for us along with an umbrella that has been what we have called a “game changer”; allowing our time at the beach to last much longer than it otherwise could have given the heat. He is chilling out on the sand for the most part but ‘watch out’ when a waiter or another dog gets in too close and there he is bouncing on the end of his leash, little mouth opening and barks coming out with so little volume that they never reach their intended destination but fall flat on the dark coloured sand not too far away. I get the feeling that he doesn’t know how small he is or maybe it is because he is so small that he feels the need to defend himself so fiercely in this way. Francis and I love watching how the Mexicans respond to him. It is with good humour that they laugh and tease him saying in Spanish, “Oh such a big dog. I am so scared,” or something along those lines. “What a lot of noise for such a little dog,” they joke but I can see that they feel a connection to him either way as his determination tugs at their hearts.

Born that way

I start to see how Tucker’s reactivity is not that different from my own. Each time something comes into my comfort zone that I don’t want or didn’t ask for or that isn’t the way I want it to be I feel my body tensing, ready to attack should the need arise. It takes a lot of effort for me to bring myself back to homeostasis when something someone does hits me as out of line. I see how this is in our makeup, in our history and as my partner says, contemplating, “in our breeds.” He goes on to say, “We have all been socialized in certain ways and our belief systems and habits come to us from our particular parents and grandparents and great grandparents and so on.” He pauses to gather his thoughts and continues, “It is not that different from Tucker, really. We all react in certain ways because that is how we have been taught to react. It is not Tucker’s fault that he is drawn to defending himself. He has been bred to be that way.”

I nod my head before replying, “Yeah, but unlike Tucker, we can pay attention to our habits and question our beliefs and decide if we want to be reacting that way anymore.” This week’s study in spiritual engagement is all about habits. I have especially enjoyed the video by Dr. Judson Brewer, that explains how a habit forms: it starts with a Trigger, that causes us to engage in a common Behaviour and then to relish in the Reward that this behaviour has historically given us. I have been spending some time trying to identify the habits that I have carried forward from my own childhood, to see which ones I would like to break as they are no longer serving me in the way they used to. I find it difficult to identify any habits at first but with time I start to see more clearly how I react when things don’t go my way.

I pause in the early morning and take some time to ask myself:

When am I like Tucker? When am I jumping out of my skin trying to keep someone away from me or my people? When am I making much ado about nothing when the wrong word or tone of voice slips in?

The power of mindfulness

I am beginning to get the sense that this trip is not at all about what I thought it was about and that there is something deeper that I have come here to learn. I start to pay attention to what is going on inside my head and heart, partly because I am taking another course and we have homework given each day, and partly because that is what I believe the purpose of my life is these days. I start to wonder what the dogs have to teach us and remember back to all that I have learned in my petsitting days. This special way of paying attention is often referred to as mindfulness and takes a few different forms - mindfulness of emotion or thinking or sensation being the most frequently practiced methods of these efforts to be with what is actually happening in the moment. I pause to ask questions about what I would like my writing practice to feel like and I wait for the answers to come when they are ready.

So when the messages come from the neighbour about how hard she is finding it to relax and recharge with the two large dogs making so much noise in the night, I am ready. Ready to pause before reacting. Ready to look at what my habitual response is and to be present with the stress and strain that enters into my body. I watch myself and the habitual wants and desires that arise with an accompanying tightness in my chest and shoulders; a craving so strong that I have to figure out how to fix the situation for her. I see clearly that this has something to do with my desire to be liked and to prove again and again how worthy of love and attention that I am. If I get everything right then, and only then, will I be worthy of love and connection. This is a belief that comes to me from way back in my childhood as I took on the role of People Pleaser in my family of origin.

As I stand facing the crashing waves, little Tucker attached to me with a green string and his halter, a realization comes to me. As much as I have worked at having compassion for the neighbour whose peace has been so woefully disturbed by the irregular appearance of the dogs in her space (they normally live at the owner’s ranch out of town but she has kindly moved them to town so that Francis and I can enjoy being less isolated during our time here with them) I also need to have this kind of compassion for myself. I take a breath and I wonder how I might make use of the new practice of “perception checking,” that I have been learning in my course. This practice is quite simple (but is definitely not easy) and involves repeating what others are saying to you in your own words without judgment or adding in your own opinion. The listener’s job is to restate the core idea in their own words of what the speaker has said through words, tone, facial expressions, bodily positions when they share their experience, starting with the word YOU.

I have already been practicing what I will text back to the neighbour who is struggling to accept the new state of affairs and have come up with one or two phrases like, “You are struggling with the increase in noise that has come since the dogs have moved into the house beside you,” and “You care very much about your clients and want to make sure you are well rested so you can be there for them when they come to see you.” I notice that as I hear these phrases spoken silently inside my head there is an easing of my uncomfortable bodily sensations. They are still there somewhat but they are quieter now, taking up less room than they were when I was caught up in my efforts to make things not be the way that they are.

It’s time for self-compassion

I decide to turn this type of listening back on myself and on what I am experiencing in this situation. I start with, “You are having a hard time resisting trying to fix everything for the neighbour.” “You care deeply about others and you want them to be at peace.” “You are getting drawn back into the habit of having your worthiness tied to what others think and feel. The idea that someone is unhappy with something you have done or not done is very hard for you to resist.” “Your sense of self-love is precious to you and you don’t want it to be threatened by what others think about you and your actions.” “You and Francis are doing everything you can to make the situation better and you have a sense of accomplishment that it is better than it was when you first arrived.”

The tightness in my chest loosens and like the waves that spread foam onto the surface of the sand the stress and resistance I am feeling transforms into a heart full of compassion for everyone involved in the situation. When Francis rejoins me from his jaunt back down the beach to retrieve his momentarily forgotten running shoes I tell him what I have just experienced. I repeat the phrases that I said to myself and I add, “It is my job to listen and to let the other know that I have heard what they are saying. It is my job to check in to see if I have got it right. It is not my job to fix it.”

What a relief it is to realize that this long time reaction of winding myself up in knots to resolve what was never in my power to resolve is something that I no longer need to be engaging in. It is just a habit and as such is something that with curiosity and kindness, dedication and practice, I will eventually be able to overcome. I smile a bit at the idea that I can gift myself what Dr. Jud calls a ‘Bigger Better Offer’ of a new habit that will offer me a much more pleasing reward than this one, which really is not serving anyone anymore.

Noticing

I think back to our first day here and to how impossible this all seemed. I notice how delighted we both are when we are finally able to convince Tucker to come sleep with us in our bed. I notice what a comfort it is to feel the warmth of his life filled body curled up against the bend in my knees. I start to notice how much my heart is opening to this big eared small bodied dog who days before seemed to be ready to sink his teeth into me. I notice how much I have come to enjoy the early morning walks with the three dogs from our house down the dusty roads to the beach where the pounding of the waves recalls the power of the in and out of the breath; this constant source of universal life that flows without end inside me. I notice how high the older dog Cual jumps when we first open the gate to announce its time for a walk; his little kid energy inspiring both of us as we realize in gratitude that we too get to experience another wonderful day. I notice how touched I am each time Mele or Cual comes nearby and offers the wetness of their nose to the open palm of my outstretched hand. I notice how Mele melts at every “Good dog,” and how much she (like me) craves a tender human touch. I remember what good company dogs are to be with and all my worries about not doing it right melt away.

I am reminded once again of what a great team Francis and I are as we work together to find solutions to whatever new challenge comes our way. When it's time to feed Mele and Cual, Francis grabs the pans for the two large dogs from outside, hands them to me through the screen and I fill them up from the big pail in the closet before handing them back out to him where he waits, dogs gathered close, tails wagging as much at his gentle presence as at the food that they will soon be crunching away at so noisily. At night, if the dogs start barking, he gets out of bed, puts on his shoes and steps outside to calm the dogs when they have gotten wound up by something in the environment around them. His gentle words, or perhaps this time, his pointed disappointment, quiets their barking for a while so that the rest of us can close our eyes and get some sleep. I get up earlier to put on the coffee and keep Tucker with me, calling him back whenever he gets tempted away by the sounds of the other dogs wrestling together on the outdoor patio.

It is what it is

I pause in my writing, fingers resting on the home keys for a spell as I recall the quote by Allen Saunders that is often attributed to John Lennon, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” I think about all the If Onlys that have been getting in the way of my being with my moment to moment experience under the blue sky and warm sun of a Mexican hiatus. A phrase that we have been repeating to one another off and on during this trip dances about in my ears, “It is what it is” and brings a smile to my lips. I think about how this applies to the experience of writing my memoir and I realize that I am ready to accept the way that I am slowly and steadily adding more and more numbers to its pages.

I sit quietly now, thoughts still, listening to the sounds of the breeze in the palm trees outside my window, the tweets of a bird drawing my eyes away from my keyboard for a moment. It’s time to head downstairs to join Francis for a trip to the farmer’s market for some delectable passionfruit jelly and then it's off to the beach for fresh air and joyful play in the flow of the waves, Tucker in tow, trailing on his leash behind us. It turns out that this new dog is still capable of learning new tricks. I am ready now to be with whatever life has to offer me, lovingly leaving my plans for how it should be far behind.

Resources for Further Study and Personal Growth

If you are interested in learning more about mindfulness meditation check out the Happier meditation app for a free trial.
I am here with my never-ending search for truth, my human heart and my Professional Coach Certification (PCC) from the International Coaching Federation to be of assistance to you in your own journey of finding your own place of equilibrium. I have over 500 hours of experience working with clients and am sure that the time we spend together will bring immense value to us both.

For a free consultation with me all you have to do is book yourself into my calendar. We will spend some time getting to know one another and by the end of the 75 minutes it will be clear if a coaching relationship with me is what is needed in your life right now. There is no pressure here to buy, simply an offer from someone who has been through a whole lot of challenges and come out the other side. A little stronger, a little more humble, a little more ready to lend an ear.

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