Five-month-old Bernie is teaching Mike how to embrace chaos.
Who would have ever thought that, at my age, I would be grateful for a small measure of chaos?
The most immediate source of therapeutic chaos in my life isn’t my job, despite all that may be going on with two unfinished nuclear units, a lack of clarity in energy policy emanating from Washington, D.C., and a very heated political discussion in South Carolina. It wasn’t the marriage of our eldest daughter in July, nor is it our two teenagers and all that they bring, including our 17-year-old son evaluating which college to attend next year and our 15-year-old daughter’s daily decision as to whether Daddy is still her friend or her enemy.
No, my ultimate source of chaos to learn and grow from is a 5-month-old Goldendoodle puppy by the name of Bernie. He teaches me the lesson for which I am most grateful: I have very little control over anything in life, and I am much happier when I surrender to that lack of control.
How does Bernie teach me? Maybe it’s the fact that his favorite place to “do his business” is my wife’s prized rug, the one she inherited from her grandmother. Maybe it’s that his favorite toy box is her lingerie hamper in the laundry room. Maybe it’s his habit of turning the shoes I keep in my closet into his favorite chew toys or the trouble he has deciding whether going outside at 2 a.m. is to go to the bathroom or to play.
This dog, which the whole family voted that they wanted, down to the breed and name, is suddenly my dog because of all his habits. That’s OK with me now, even though we are both frequently banished to “our room” after supper. He and I get along fine there, as long as we accept each other—even when his favorite chew toy is my feet hanging off the end of the bed.
The real lesson that flows from Bernie’s chaos is that it’s just so darn unpredictable. It’s hard for me to get even the tiniest bit angry with a dog that looks at me with eyes that one second can be angelic and the next second diabolic.
Why is chaos such an essential teacher for me? At certain points of my life, I have, for whatever reason, tried to exert control over things that were, by all rationale, uncontrollable. I was prone to accept a mix of blame and anger for things that I could not make turn out right or took an inordinate amount of credit for things that did turn out right, only to find out later that (1) what was going to happen was going to happen and (2) there was a bigger plan and, inevitably, a better plan.
Bernie reminds me daily, and by the minute, that some things are far beyond my control and expectations, in particular the great moment when he leaps into my lap, licks my face and looks at me as if he likes me even more than a good roll in the cow pasture or grabbing a sandwich off the picnic table. Who could ever program and produce such emotions and affection from him?
As we enter a season bookended by holidays celebrating hope and renewal, I will choose to be grateful for the unexpected blessings that can come out of life’s challenges. I only feel the pain or fear of chaos when I seek to exert control over that which is uncontrollable, and it helps to remember the timeless guidance of Ecclesiastes 3:1—to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.
There is even a time for friendship between growing puppies and middle-aged men.
God bless you and yours, and best wishes for a peaceful new year.