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I used to let our dogs roam freely in the neighborhood. They were very friendly and didn’t seem to
bother people. We also lived on a dead end street, so I wasn’t worried about cars, and even though our
city had leash laws none of the neighbors had ever complained, so I just let sleeping dogs lie so to speak.
Then we got a visit from the local dogcatcher. Someone had anonymously tipped off the city
government. We did attempt a few feeble efforts to limit our dog’s activities, but basically, we just tried
to ignore the situation. That all changed when we got a note on our door one Saturday. It was from the
neighbor two doors down who had moved in a few months before. In the note, our neighbor politely
reminded us of the leash law, and informed us that her attorney would be contacting us first thing
Monday about the scratches on her Mazda Miata. Apparently a cat had jumped on the Miata while fleeing
from our dogs, scratching the paint on her car.
After $125.00 to fix a Miata, and after much fuming about neighbors who call the pound and leave
threatening notes, the glory days for the dogs were over. Chained to a stake in the back yard, our two
four-legged felons gazed at me accusingly whenever I was in sight. With no way to make them
understand, and without an extra thousand bucks for a decent fence, I felt horribly guilty about their
imprisonment. My wife complained bitterly, but to no avail. These dogs were avid cat chasers and were
not about to give up their favorite pastime voluntarily. I began to avoid our back yard to escape our
attention-starved pets. Setting one foot out the back door set tails waving frantically, with the owners of
these tails straining at their chains to be as close to me as possible. And if this wasn’t bad enough, a few
days later, the escapes began.
Every day we would take the dogs for what we call a tee tee walk. The boys got their bikes and rode up
and down the street while the dogs would sniff all the interesting smells, stretch their legs, and do their
business in the grass. The dogs after being chained up all day were busting to be free, and began to watch
carefully for the moment when we weren’t paying attention. A few unguarded seconds was enough, and
the dogs would be gone. They quickly became masters at this disappearing act, and had their escape
routes carefully mapped out. I would become absolutely infuriated with these insubordinate canines, and
would threaten, beat, hold them down and growl at the dogs to let them know I meant business, and that
they were not to try to escape. The dogs were properly submissive and apologetic during the moments of
my rage and displays of dominant authority, but they continued to take every opportunity to make their
break for it. They would always return a few hours later, soaking wet and very excited until they saw me.
Immediately their tails would go between their legs and they would crawl up to me begging for
forgiveness. I would do my best to try to put the fear of God into them, and after venting my frustration
on my two humble and totally apologetic runaways I would lock them up again, convinced that they had
learned their lesson and would think twice before trying to escape again. Of course, I was wrong, and as
this problem continued, and all my efforts proved to be completely useless, I became more obsessed. I
could often be seen hurdling hedges and ditches chasing these two determined jailbirds. We would use
leashes for a while, but every time I thought the dogs were reformed and would give them another chance
at freedom, they were gone.
One afternoon I was loading my three boys in to the van to go hunt down my two incorrigible pets after
they had escaped. I was fuming at my wife, Liz, about the situation, and the boys who were very
interested in all the excitement were asking questions as usual. Suddenly, my son, Craig, spoke up from
his car seat behind me and asked, “Daddy, are you ready to let your anger go?” I didn’t know exactly what
to say. Liz and I often used these exact words on the boys when they were upset with each other, but I
never dreamed they would be using these same techniques on me. I quickly flipped through my list of
excuses, but couldn’t find a valid counter to my three-year-old’s simple, direct and irritating question. I
tried being quiet and ignoring the question, but Craig just repeated himself, determined to press the
issue. My wife, Liz, was thoroughly enjoying the situation and prompted me to respond to our son, who
was now beginning to ask the question louder and louder in an effort to get an answer. Realizing the
importance of the example I set for my son, and trapped in my own web, I silently fumed for a few
seconds before admitting my error to my three-year-old counselor. I agreed to ‘let my anger go’ with
some chagrin as we drove around the neighborhood looking for our pets who were still on the lamb and
out on an adventure.
When we found the dogs about two miles and ten minutes later, their tails immediately went between
their legs when they saw me. I was careful to chastise them more calmly as they approached me,
groveling on their bellies. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em as the saying goes, and I knew that dog beating
was not an option any more. I didn’t like it, but I could see no other reasonable alternative. I knew I had to
change and so from that moment on I began to manage my frustration more carefully when the dogs had
their adventures.
I continued to work on ‘letting my anger go’, even though that phrase sometimes felt like a thorn in my
side when Craig continued to remind me of my promise. Over time I did notice that my anger actually
did get less, and I have to admit, I don’t have all that unreasoning rage towards my dogs anymore. My
peace of mind is certainly worth something, and looking back, I’m grateful for Craig’s assistance in
improving my mental health. Turnabout is certainly fair play, and as a parent, I’m beginning to understand
that if I’m going to ask my children to live by certain principles, then I’d better be ready to do the same.
Reflecting on this story I’m struck by the profound impact of this situation on Craig and myself. By
acknowledging the truth of his words I reflected to Craig the wisdom of his internal awareness. Because
of this type of open communication in our relationship Craig now knows that he will be heard and that I
will honestly evaluate the truth of his words and will change my behavior accordingly. He now knows that
his words have power and that he can make a difference in others lives because I let him make a
difference in mine. Craig has learned to trust the wisdom of his own inner voice because he clearly sees
the demonstration of how his ideas positively apply to real life issues. As a parent, I am deeply moved by
my son’s ability to speak the truth innocently and without malice. Craig loves me unconditionally with
nothing held back and so he makes it easy for me to hear his truth. What more could a parent ask for in a
son?
For my part, Craig is helping me to let go of my anger. My life is certainly more peaceful for it too.
What I am realizing is that Craig in his childlike authenticity is helping me to release those emotional
habits that I never needed in the first place. I have had to examine the ways I act irresponsible with my
anger and how I often blame others whether it’s my friends, coworkers, my family or our dogs. Through
these types of interactions with my children I am learning to own responsibility for the ways I play the
victim role and then try to justify my temper tantrums.
I came by these emotional patterns honestly. My father was a devoted and committed father, but he was
also a workaholic who could often be emotionally rigid and control-oriented. My mother was a dynamic,
insightful and incredibly talented woman used to being center stage. When she was then at home alone
with seven children to raise she often lost it. I learned many strong positive values and skills from my
parents as well as some pretty intense patterns of control and rage. These are the patterns I brought to
being a husband and father that I continue to sort through and I am grateful for the opportunities my
family provides me to continue to release these patterns. I can honestly say that I am a much happier
person for it.
bother people. We also lived on a dead end street, so I wasn’t worried about cars, and even though our
city had leash laws none of the neighbors had ever complained, so I just let sleeping dogs lie so to speak.
Then we got a visit from the local dogcatcher. Someone had anonymously tipped off the city
government. We did attempt a few feeble efforts to limit our dog’s activities, but basically, we just tried
to ignore the situation. That all changed when we got a note on our door one Saturday. It was from the
neighbor two doors down who had moved in a few months before. In the note, our neighbor politely
reminded us of the leash law, and informed us that her attorney would be contacting us first thing
Monday about the scratches on her Mazda Miata. Apparently a cat had jumped on the Miata while fleeing
from our dogs, scratching the paint on her car.
After $125.00 to fix a Miata, and after much fuming about neighbors who call the pound and leave
threatening notes, the glory days for the dogs were over. Chained to a stake in the back yard, our two
four-legged felons gazed at me accusingly whenever I was in sight. With no way to make them
understand, and without an extra thousand bucks for a decent fence, I felt horribly guilty about their
imprisonment. My wife complained bitterly, but to no avail. These dogs were avid cat chasers and were
not about to give up their favorite pastime voluntarily. I began to avoid our back yard to escape our
attention-starved pets. Setting one foot out the back door set tails waving frantically, with the owners of
these tails straining at their chains to be as close to me as possible. And if this wasn’t bad enough, a few
days later, the escapes began.
Every day we would take the dogs for what we call a tee tee walk. The boys got their bikes and rode up
and down the street while the dogs would sniff all the interesting smells, stretch their legs, and do their
business in the grass. The dogs after being chained up all day were busting to be free, and began to watch
carefully for the moment when we weren’t paying attention. A few unguarded seconds was enough, and
the dogs would be gone. They quickly became masters at this disappearing act, and had their escape
routes carefully mapped out. I would become absolutely infuriated with these insubordinate canines, and
would threaten, beat, hold them down and growl at the dogs to let them know I meant business, and that
they were not to try to escape. The dogs were properly submissive and apologetic during the moments of
my rage and displays of dominant authority, but they continued to take every opportunity to make their
break for it. They would always return a few hours later, soaking wet and very excited until they saw me.
Immediately their tails would go between their legs and they would crawl up to me begging for
forgiveness. I would do my best to try to put the fear of God into them, and after venting my frustration
on my two humble and totally apologetic runaways I would lock them up again, convinced that they had
learned their lesson and would think twice before trying to escape again. Of course, I was wrong, and as
this problem continued, and all my efforts proved to be completely useless, I became more obsessed. I
could often be seen hurdling hedges and ditches chasing these two determined jailbirds. We would use
leashes for a while, but every time I thought the dogs were reformed and would give them another chance
at freedom, they were gone.
One afternoon I was loading my three boys in to the van to go hunt down my two incorrigible pets after
they had escaped. I was fuming at my wife, Liz, about the situation, and the boys who were very
interested in all the excitement were asking questions as usual. Suddenly, my son, Craig, spoke up from
his car seat behind me and asked, “Daddy, are you ready to let your anger go?” I didn’t know exactly what
to say. Liz and I often used these exact words on the boys when they were upset with each other, but I
never dreamed they would be using these same techniques on me. I quickly flipped through my list of
excuses, but couldn’t find a valid counter to my three-year-old’s simple, direct and irritating question. I
tried being quiet and ignoring the question, but Craig just repeated himself, determined to press the
issue. My wife, Liz, was thoroughly enjoying the situation and prompted me to respond to our son, who
was now beginning to ask the question louder and louder in an effort to get an answer. Realizing the
importance of the example I set for my son, and trapped in my own web, I silently fumed for a few
seconds before admitting my error to my three-year-old counselor. I agreed to ‘let my anger go’ with
some chagrin as we drove around the neighborhood looking for our pets who were still on the lamb and
out on an adventure.
When we found the dogs about two miles and ten minutes later, their tails immediately went between
their legs when they saw me. I was careful to chastise them more calmly as they approached me,
groveling on their bellies. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em as the saying goes, and I knew that dog beating
was not an option any more. I didn’t like it, but I could see no other reasonable alternative. I knew I had to
change and so from that moment on I began to manage my frustration more carefully when the dogs had
their adventures.
I continued to work on ‘letting my anger go’, even though that phrase sometimes felt like a thorn in my
side when Craig continued to remind me of my promise. Over time I did notice that my anger actually
did get less, and I have to admit, I don’t have all that unreasoning rage towards my dogs anymore. My
peace of mind is certainly worth something, and looking back, I’m grateful for Craig’s assistance in
improving my mental health. Turnabout is certainly fair play, and as a parent, I’m beginning to understand
that if I’m going to ask my children to live by certain principles, then I’d better be ready to do the same.
Reflecting on this story I’m struck by the profound impact of this situation on Craig and myself. By
acknowledging the truth of his words I reflected to Craig the wisdom of his internal awareness. Because
of this type of open communication in our relationship Craig now knows that he will be heard and that I
will honestly evaluate the truth of his words and will change my behavior accordingly. He now knows that
his words have power and that he can make a difference in others lives because I let him make a
difference in mine. Craig has learned to trust the wisdom of his own inner voice because he clearly sees
the demonstration of how his ideas positively apply to real life issues. As a parent, I am deeply moved by
my son’s ability to speak the truth innocently and without malice. Craig loves me unconditionally with
nothing held back and so he makes it easy for me to hear his truth. What more could a parent ask for in a
son?
For my part, Craig is helping me to let go of my anger. My life is certainly more peaceful for it too.
What I am realizing is that Craig in his childlike authenticity is helping me to release those emotional
habits that I never needed in the first place. I have had to examine the ways I act irresponsible with my
anger and how I often blame others whether it’s my friends, coworkers, my family or our dogs. Through
these types of interactions with my children I am learning to own responsibility for the ways I play the
victim role and then try to justify my temper tantrums.
I came by these emotional patterns honestly. My father was a devoted and committed father, but he was
also a workaholic who could often be emotionally rigid and control-oriented. My mother was a dynamic,
insightful and incredibly talented woman used to being center stage. When she was then at home alone
with seven children to raise she often lost it. I learned many strong positive values and skills from my
parents as well as some pretty intense patterns of control and rage. These are the patterns I brought to
being a husband and father that I continue to sort through and I am grateful for the opportunities my
family provides me to continue to release these patterns. I can honestly say that I am a much happier
person for it.
| Our children have much to teach us. When we live by principles our children in their honesty and innocence will often remind us of these values when we least expect it. In this way our children can teach us important life lessons that not only help us to grow emotionally and spiritually, but also help us to model healthy behavior for our children. This also empowers their communication skills and self-confidence, and enhances their ability to be life long learners. Letting it Go (excerpt from the book: The Joy of Fatherhood) |
| The Enlightened Parent Parenting and Relationship Blog |