While having lunch with some co-workers this week, one person at the table mentioned pictures of our loved ones. Quickly, the women at the table whipped out pictures of their husbands and kids. The men just sat and watched. When asked to produce the same, one man pulled out a picture of his dog. Everyone laughed. We learned that not a single man at the table had a picture of his wife/girlfriend or kids... but rather had pictures of our dogs. While it's easy to find the humor there, I think it's rather sad.
We all know the common cliche that a dog is a man's best friend. Why is it that an animal holds such high place in our hearts?
Some might suggest that it's because a dog is forever loyal. Are we really shallow enough to just ride this bandwagon of thought as normal? I guess what I'm trying to say is, has anyone considered that perhaps the man who coined the phrase was hurt by a woman. Thus, his reliance upon an animal isn't particularly the issue at hand, but rather a fear of rejection. Instead of facing that fear he places his devotion in a dog. Sadly, I'm not immune from said man's thinking.
I love my dog, Snickers. She's sweet (most of the time), doesn't talk back, and is always excited to see me when I get home from work. She cuddles with me on the couch and sleeps next to me at night. I know that she needs me, and feel in some strange way that I need her too.
After being the victim of a divorce, she remained loyal to me. I hate to use the word "victim", but chose to in this writing to emphasize my struggle to maintain my marriage while my ex-wife just turned her back and walked away. Snickers has proven to stand with me through my tough times. I'd like to believe that in those dark times she recognized my emotions, and that she shared the burden of pain with me. But have you ever talked to a dog? I have. They don't answer you! Assuming you get his/her attention, all they do is tilt their head at you while wondering what in the heck you're saying.
Other people may suggest that a dog is man's best friend because they don't argue. While this is true, are men really that horrible with communication and conflict resolution that they'd rather avoid it altogether?
In my own life I communicate with those who are special to me more effectively through actions than I do through words. Just because actions do speak louder than words, I'm not removed from verbal communication completely. Have you ever met someone who is in a successful relationship with another that never just sits and talks to them? Although there are some pretty strange couples out there, it's not normal. We must learn to communicate not only with our muscles but also with our mouths. Instead of rolling our eyes when she says "we need to talk", we should man-up and talk. Sadly, most of us do exactly as a dog would, we tuck our tail and hope not to be hit too hard with the newspaper.
I'm sure there are other theories behind the idea of a dog being a man's best friend. But after only discussing two theories I'm forced to think of myself and what it is about Snickers that makes me so comfortable. While comfort is great, it breeds complacency. A complacent man is a lonely man... with a dog.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
First Impressions
What is it about first impressions that ultimately dictate one's interactions with another?
They say that one will develop an opinion of another within moments of meeting. That can, at times, limit any potential future relationship or contacts that we may have with another. Any human interactions coach will teach you, that the first impression is perhaps the most important of all meetings with others. As I sit here thinking of the same, I challenge the theory of first impressions by saying that it's simply not right nor is it fair to be so judgmental based upon arguably little or no knowledge of another.
I remember the first time that I had my first impression of another thrown back in my face.
Years after nearly getting kicked out of a Christian school, I entered the 3rd grade. I was incredibly opinionated, stubborn, and nothing short of mean to all that did not walk within my circle. This included anyone, including my teacher Mrs. Whisenhunt. She, while remaining firm, never gave up on the heathen that she referred to as "the bad little good boy". Still, Mrs. Whisenhunt was on my list and had become my greatest nemesis. Afterall, she was my teacher! I was determined to break her.
For the entire year I did things to other students in an effort to see the smoke plume from Mrs. Whisenhunt's ears. I stole from other students, placed thumb tacks on her chair, and even once took the top off of a bottle of Elmer's glue only to throw the bottle across the room at the chalkboard. While I'm sure she didn't like my shenanigans, she never gave a hint of losing her temper.
The summer after the 3rd grade I was riding my bike with one of my closest friends, Ivy Vincent. As we rode through the neighborhood, I spotted my enemy. Mrs. Whisenhunt was working in her front yard in her flower garden. While scheming my terror plot, Ivy had other plans. My friend was about to befriend my rival.
We rode up to Mrs. Whisenhunt's house, dismounted, and put down our kick-stands. I felt vulnerable, looking for any opportunity to strike. Mrs. Whisenhunt greeted us and began walking towards the street. She invited Ivy and me in to sit at her table and share a bowl of strawberries with sugar. Peer pressure was applied, and I consented.
While sitting at Mrs. Whisenhunt's table it's almost as if the blinds over my eyes were opened. I began to, for the first time, see her for who she really was; a kind and compassionate woman. From that day onward, Mrs. Whisenhunt was more than just a figure in my life... she was a living, breathing human being with a heart of gold.
Now, I'm smart enough to know that my story is, in some ways, shallow and fails to completely address the issue of first impressions. However, have you ever been kicked in the crotch? The feeling is so intense that the only logical response is to look for a bush to share your lunch with. Such is the feeling of being completely wrong about someone. This, by itself, is a great disservice to them and produces a feeling within us that can best be described as what happens to your stomach after eating bad sushi.
Yet, we continue to be judgmental and weigh these opinions as if they were fact! How can we almost instantly decide that someone is not worth our time and energy to befriend? The fact of the matter is that we are all unique. We all have our goals, our dreams, our insecurities, our passions. To share these with other people is, in its own way, an intimate experience. It is a trust that we place in another. But we continue to pervert the power of human relationships with our opinions.
So what are we to do about it? How can we get past those first few moments and allow ourselves to see beyond the lining with a clear lense? I only wish I knew.
So here I sit, perhaps being somewhat hypocritical to address this topic without any definitive corrective measures. Yet, I recognize this as a flaw in my own life. One that I hope to correct.
They say that one will develop an opinion of another within moments of meeting. That can, at times, limit any potential future relationship or contacts that we may have with another. Any human interactions coach will teach you, that the first impression is perhaps the most important of all meetings with others. As I sit here thinking of the same, I challenge the theory of first impressions by saying that it's simply not right nor is it fair to be so judgmental based upon arguably little or no knowledge of another.
I remember the first time that I had my first impression of another thrown back in my face.
Years after nearly getting kicked out of a Christian school, I entered the 3rd grade. I was incredibly opinionated, stubborn, and nothing short of mean to all that did not walk within my circle. This included anyone, including my teacher Mrs. Whisenhunt. She, while remaining firm, never gave up on the heathen that she referred to as "the bad little good boy". Still, Mrs. Whisenhunt was on my list and had become my greatest nemesis. Afterall, she was my teacher! I was determined to break her.
For the entire year I did things to other students in an effort to see the smoke plume from Mrs. Whisenhunt's ears. I stole from other students, placed thumb tacks on her chair, and even once took the top off of a bottle of Elmer's glue only to throw the bottle across the room at the chalkboard. While I'm sure she didn't like my shenanigans, she never gave a hint of losing her temper.
The summer after the 3rd grade I was riding my bike with one of my closest friends, Ivy Vincent. As we rode through the neighborhood, I spotted my enemy. Mrs. Whisenhunt was working in her front yard in her flower garden. While scheming my terror plot, Ivy had other plans. My friend was about to befriend my rival.
We rode up to Mrs. Whisenhunt's house, dismounted, and put down our kick-stands. I felt vulnerable, looking for any opportunity to strike. Mrs. Whisenhunt greeted us and began walking towards the street. She invited Ivy and me in to sit at her table and share a bowl of strawberries with sugar. Peer pressure was applied, and I consented.
While sitting at Mrs. Whisenhunt's table it's almost as if the blinds over my eyes were opened. I began to, for the first time, see her for who she really was; a kind and compassionate woman. From that day onward, Mrs. Whisenhunt was more than just a figure in my life... she was a living, breathing human being with a heart of gold.
Now, I'm smart enough to know that my story is, in some ways, shallow and fails to completely address the issue of first impressions. However, have you ever been kicked in the crotch? The feeling is so intense that the only logical response is to look for a bush to share your lunch with. Such is the feeling of being completely wrong about someone. This, by itself, is a great disservice to them and produces a feeling within us that can best be described as what happens to your stomach after eating bad sushi.
Yet, we continue to be judgmental and weigh these opinions as if they were fact! How can we almost instantly decide that someone is not worth our time and energy to befriend? The fact of the matter is that we are all unique. We all have our goals, our dreams, our insecurities, our passions. To share these with other people is, in its own way, an intimate experience. It is a trust that we place in another. But we continue to pervert the power of human relationships with our opinions.
So what are we to do about it? How can we get past those first few moments and allow ourselves to see beyond the lining with a clear lense? I only wish I knew.
So here I sit, perhaps being somewhat hypocritical to address this topic without any definitive corrective measures. Yet, I recognize this as a flaw in my own life. One that I hope to correct.
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