I swear, getting this dog exactly six months ago today (as it turns out) continues to pay off. Still. Not only is she the sweetest, most adorable, cuddly, fluffy-butted, affectionate thing, I am learning so much from her. I know I hear parents of actual human children say this, but look, lessons are everywhere and mine just happen to be from the husky who sits at my back door giving me the puppy dog eyes every morning while I make my breakfast.
A couple of months ago (maybe more, maybe less, who really knows with this year??) I shared a post, just a picture on Instagram, of her howling next to me while I was sitting on the grass outside having my coffee, and the caption spoke about lessons of expression. There had been a morning previous to that where there was something I wanted to be able to share with someone, but was holding back for whatever reason. That day, I was sitting outside doing work and she continued to ‘talk’ (howl). Normally she’ll do this to begin with but settles down and just chills out. But that morning, she just wouldn’t stop. Whether I was engaging with her or not, she was talking. Whether it seemed like she was talking to me or not, there she was, making her voice heard. So yeah, I got the point and sent the message.
Today, she’s inadvertently come through again. We’ve been going to dog training for the past few weeks, and sidenote, it’s been great. It’s resetting the foundations, getting her more responsive when she’s in distracting (or overwhelming) situations and, well, I’m a proud mum at the little differences I’ve been noticing. One key thing that came up tonight was, after weeks of being aware that she avoids eye contact and directly engaging, how I am expressing my excitement to engage with her. I can be sweet and low-key excited with her, and it might work sometimes. But when the trainer comes around and gets her to engage and do something straight away when I’d been trying to get her attention on anything but literally everything else, it can be a little frustrating.
Here comes the lesson. My engagement with her is totally reserved in that environment. Was I not laughing and playing with her on the ground this very morning? (Pictured below). Do I not show her excitement when we practice what we’ve learnt in training each week, in the comfort of my own backyard? It is absolutely zero surprise to me that I’m being reserved. That’s just me in general. I take my sweet time in new environments, around new people, to settle in and let my freak flag fly. For as long as I can remember, I have always been like that. The lesson therein lies in why I do that. What is it that I’m afraid to express openly? This is, of course, hilarious timing after feeling allllll weekend that I just want to express. Those words, repeating in my mind and coming from my heart. “I just want to express myself. I’m sick of staying quiet.” And then this comes up. Of course. Because, life plays things out this way. The universe has a sense of humour.
I mentioned in another post a couple of days ago about creating space to look at what is trying to emerge. Oh, I don’t know. Freedom of expression I guess (cue eye roll at the now obvious). Before I go on though, I do want to clarify that I actually like that part of me enjoys being reserved. It’s the part of me that levels and grounds, balancing the other parts of me that might be a bit more reactionary or impulsive. It likes to sit back and see things for what they are before I jump two feet in and 100m deep (as I tend to do once I make a decision anyway), or create stories out of something that don’t really exist in reality. It’s the part that can remain sturdy, supportive for either myself or those around me that might need it.
But… It also exists in a sense of wariness. What will happen if I relax and express something? It could be feelings, emotions, worries, movement, my voice. And it could be uncertainty in an environment that has a minute amount of risk in expression. A bit like… “What happens if I express excitement to my dog right now?” Oh, I don’t know Jess. Maybe a more engaged bloody dog in a training session? Geez.
There’s no one single reason that makes my initial default setting as ‘reserved’. Only the knowledge that only when I feel comfortable (safe?), do I tend to express more of myself in any given context and scenario. It’s a slow emergence, just bits of myself being shared at a time. Maybe that’s the answer to my question. What is trying to emerge is myself. (Oh, she says). And only the awareness that, each time I play things out like this, I end up frustrated and annoyed thatIhaven’texpressedmyselfproperlyandthatImustbeforeIdoliterallyanythingelseyouguys. <– The urge to express comes out like that. Imagine a dam, full of water that doesn’t have any kind of outlet. You let it build up enough, eventually the volume gets too much and it overflows. Often rapidly. Or a pressure cooker without a pressure valve… You get the idea.
So, what’s the issue? The thing is, expression is important. And comfort of expressing ourselves maybe even more so. We’re human beings, our growth and experiences depend on interaction and how we can express ourselves into the world we live in. I couldn’t be a yoga teacher if I couldn’t speak to groups of people and give instructions or lessons for on/off the mat. I couldn’t be a writer if I didn’t put words to ‘paper’ like this, to share with whomever decided they wanted to read. If there is a fear involved that is holding us back from using our voice, it’s something worth exploring, to process, understand and grow through.
My comfort level in sharing and expressing has always been more in the written word than using my voice. I find when I’m trying to convey something verbally that is personal, I have so much concern about whether or not it’s coming across the right way, that it halts and stutters me the whole time. Not so enjoyable for the other person, but sincerely from that genuine place. Or I overtalk, trying (for some reason) so desperately to ensure I’m understood. That’s a whole other blog though…
But, like in the dog training, interactions with people important to me, and many other important examples in life, being able to use my voice (tonalities, inflections and volume included) is key to sharing what we have to offer to the world. This can be in building our closest connections with authenticity, to expressing our points of view or gifts for positive change, or even giving other people permission to do the same. All of them help us to better understand each other. And with more understanding naturally comes more compassion, empathy and care, and less fear, reactions and judgment.
