After I came back from my very windy bike ride last night, G made me dinner. Everyone else was “starving” so ate while I was gone. As I sat there in the living room with the rest of the family watching Wipe Out, I noticed I had a friend.
Our 10 year old yellow lab was sitting quietly and patiently in front of me, ears perked up, hoping I would drop something for him to catch. Hoping above all else that today was going to be his day.
He could barely contain his excitement at the possibility that it could happen. His ears were perked up at attention. His head was cocked to the side in wonder. And his butt was barely on the floor as he waited eagerly to leap at his chance. No small feat for a dog with arthritis in his hips.
In the end, he got none of my food (and given his recent stomach issues, we are all glad of that!). But did this mean he walked away disappointed?
Nope. Not at all. It was like he shrugged, thought “maybe next time”, and moved on.
I want my dog’s sense of hope.
I want to hope things will go as wanted,
And if things don’t go as wanted, I want to be able to shrug it off and walk away and hope for next time.
The hope that infects every part of your body with that excitement – regardless of how many times it may be that I’ve had that same want without it happening.
That hope that does not get diminished when things don’t happen. That hope that allows me to take that same step of faith that it may happen this time, without hesitation.
Not be sad.
Not worry about it.
Not be disappointed.
I want to retain that hope that it will happen – just another time – and not have it impact me negatively.
I want the hope that my dog has.