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.

I read a Post-it Note cartoon the other day that said something like, “I’m tired of all of these people, always thinking of themselves. They need to be thinking about me.” (Thank you, Carrie!)

That makes me chuckle, because when something points out a ridiculous attitude and I see myself, I just have to shake my head. How often I am thinking that very thing, though I haven’t, until now, really recognized it! I’m busy. I’m exhausted. I’m trying my best. I’m overworked. I’m hungry. I’m not feeling valued. I’m not getting what I want. I, I and I. I am so aware, and somewhat annoyed, when people around me are thinking only of themselves: complaining about what their problems are, what they aren’t getting, what they wish would be different. I think to myself, “Quit complaining,” and then I tell them what my problem-of-the-day is, because I need them to think about me. Oh, the contradiction of being at once offended by self-centeredness in others and completely unaware of it in ourselves.

Ptolemy, a second century mathematician modeled the organization of the universe with earth as its center. He was certain all other stars and planets revolved around us, and he could, with some certainty, “prove” it. Americans have often been criticized by other country’s citizens for our lack of cultural and ecological awareness. Infants, developmentally speaking, cannot fathom any other people having any calling but to feed them, clothe them, and hold them. In the same way that we learned the earth is not the center of the universe, that we have a world-wide ecological obligation and an obligation to recognize the merit and beauty of different cultures, and that others are not in existence only to answer our cries, at some point we have to recognize that others are also busy, exhausted, trying their best, overworked, hungry, and feeling devalued.

It is an interesting feeling to become consciously aware of this. Since I have decided to monitor this, I have discovered how often I am focused on putting out my own fires, dealing with my own situations. I can almost feel myself resisting the notion that other people are truly doing their best, given their stressful lives and personal issues. I hear that voice in my head tell me that people who are not helpful, who give me cold French fries through the drive-through, who leave me on hold for ten minutes only to disconnect, are unprofessional, or lazy, or careless. I lament more often than I would like to admit, “Customer service! Whatever happened to basic customer service?”

Another interesting thing happens, however, when I place the lens of how I see myself, (overworked, tired, trying to do my best, frustrated to fall short, and exhausted) over others. Sure the guy who cut me off in traffic has his mind on other things… I hope he gets them handled. Of course the girl who can’t refund my money at the check-out lane seems incapable… corporate rules tie her hands. And if I am wrong when I invent a gracious reason for my being “mistreated,” or inconvenienced, so what? I feel better when I find my patience than when I’m scowling at what I perceive as ineptitude.

I really do think that people are basically the same, and that means that they are basically good, well-meaning, hard working, struggling people. And, although it’s hard to remember that concept when I’m discouraged that they don’t have my needs at the top of their priority list, I’m going to try to do better. In fact, on the days when I don’t feel particularly overwhelmed or discouraged, I’m going to try to put someone else at the top of my priority list, even above myself, because I’m sure, someone, somewhere is thinking: “I’m tired of her thinking about herself all the time. She needs to be thinking about me.”