Being on vacation is nice. Getting out of the cold is wonderful. My wife and I are spending two weeks in the sun of South Florida, enjoying the sunshine and pace of doing very little, save for a lot of walking.
We’ve found a favorite coffee shop that is just shy of a mile, and that’s become a must to start our day. After our morning coffee, Wendy found a boutique that sells the kind of hats she likes and, of course, a visit was in order. I watched her enter the shop and was about to go in when I spotted a chihuahua. I decided to take a pass. I have a childhood of encounters with my neighbor’s two vicious mini-dogs. (No, thank you! Hard pass!)
I stood outside waiting when I saw her wave me in. Reluctantly, I entered, keeping my eye on the bug-egged ankle-biter. The young woman behind the counter assured me, “Don’t worry, she’s super friendly.” Yeah, I know that story. The minute I turn my back, I’ll have a set of razor-sharp teeth embedded in my leg.
Standing off to the side, as my wife tried on a few selections, I saw the dog approach me with its tail wagging (I knew this must be a trick). She rolled over on her back for a tummy rub. OK, so I am the biggest sucker for a pup who wants a tummy rub, and I bent down to comply. My senses were on full alert, waiting for the dog to sink her teeth into the fleshy part between my thumb and index finger.
Instead, she lay there, tail wagging, eyes closing, while I did as I was bade. My lifetime of knowing that these tiny teeth-gnashing monsters were evil incarnate was dispelled. Instead, Sugar and I became buds. And she followed me wherever I walked in the story, imploring for more skritches, scratches, and rubs.
Sometimes, we need to let go of old beliefs to make way for new ones. The old ones can keep us locked into useless patterns of behavior that prevent us from learning and living more fully.
