Dog is a Master of the Four Agreements

One of my all-time favorite books is The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. I love this book for the power of its message, but especially for its simplicity. When you read it, you cannot help but to realize how very much better your life would be if you just followed these four easy rules. (But like many things that are good for us, they prove to be not so easy to practice in the “real world.”)

The book is based on ancient Toltec (Amerindian people that lived in Mexico before the Aztecs) wisdom. You can almost feel your wild, wise spirit guide hovering about as you read it.

All four agreements are wonderful, but my favorite is number two: ”Don’t take anything personally.”

From the book: ”Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.”

I know I’ve experienced a lot of guilt, heartache, and feelings of failure and not being good enough because I didn’t get this agreement.

How many times do we do exactly that? Are we crushed when someone doesn’t return a phone call? Or fails to notice a special effort we made? Or says something carelessly rude?

When this happens we usually jump right into fear and hurt feelings and often escalate into anger and attack.

When most of the time, it’s not about us at all.

When my son was in kindergarten he had this adorable teacher—young and blond and pretty and oh-so-nice. I forget exactly what had happened—I forgot to turn in a field trip permission slip or didn’t respond to an e-mail or some other silly thing. I was already feeling guilty, but when I was volunteering in the class, I noticed that the normally friendly Miss S. was decidedly cool. She must be mad at me, my guilty, self-critical, chattering mind started ranting.

This bothered me the whole time I was working in the class. I kept trying to make amends, smiling and making small talk, oversharpening pencils and tidying up excessively, trying desperately to make her like me again. But she remained a brick wall of stoic silence.

Finally, at the end of the day, after all that obsessing and worrying, I went up to Miss S., ready to throw myself at her mercy. I apologized profusely and asked if she was upset with me.

She shook off her fog and looked at me blankly. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I haven’t been getting much sleep and my mind has been elsewhere. My step-father is dying.”

Boom! Talk about getting whacked by the Universe! By taking her reaction personally not only had I “suffered needlessly,” but I had been focusing so much on me and what I was feeling that I totally missed that she was suffering for a very real reason that was very much her own.

Now whenever I am tempted to take something personally I remember that instance.

I can learn a lot from Dog.

By now you know how much Dog loves people. When we are on our walks, he goes out of his way—will stop mid-stride, tug the leash to cross the street, look up expectantly as people pass, as if saying, “Hey, Hi! Look at me! I’d like to grace you with a little of my warm personality and heartfelt affection!”

Reactions vary. Some people pause for a quick pet and move along. Some smile and wave without missing a step. Others make a complete stop, bend down to give him the full pet, tell us how cute he is and, in some cases, how much he reminds them of a dog they know or once loved. Still others move along without even so much as acknowledging his existence. (In one extreme case, a crazy guy at the park barked expletives at Dog when he crossed his path!)

The point is it’s not about Dog. Dog is the same friendly, unconditionally loving pooch, but their responses are all about them: What their personal history with dogs is; how much of a hurry they are in at the moment; whether they are partial to small dogs or big dogs; whether or not they know and want to chat with the person on the other end of the leash.

But Dog is a master of the Four Agreements. He never takes it personally. He might look longingly after them if someone passes us by, then back to me as if to say, “What’s up with that?” Then, in a moment, the slight is forgotten. Dog is on his happy way again, ready to cheerfully meet and greet the next person along the path of life.