Learning from my Dogs
From what I saw in my dogs, I have learned about myself.
I learned that my dogs always want to do the same thing over and over again. Practically every morning, they follow behind me panting and shaking excitedly to go outside. Playing in the backyard is what makes their day, and probably the rest of the days that follow.
When you think about it, the world my dogs see is a much smaller place than mine. All they will ever know is only a handful of things because it’s simply not in their power to do otherwise. However, their ability to comprehend the world is just part of the reason; the rest ties in with how much of the world they will get to experience.
But this is all okay.
My dogs are comfortable where they are. They don’t have knowledge — or yearn to have knowledge — about the existence of things beyond our house, or if they did they gave up trying a long time ago.
They don’t like change. They practically fear it. They can’t handle anything like going outside, visiting a doggy park, or going for a joyride in a car. It’s funny analyzing their nonsensical fears toward negligible things such as small noises, the vacuum cleaner, or a group of people walking casually across the street.
I think if I were my dogs, I would utterly hate my life.
Having to be cooped up in a small house from youth until death is not a good way to live — for anyone. Having the same breakfast, lunch and dinner fed to you, being around the same group of people, and being under the same daily routine is something that I found I share with my own pets.
In a way we are all like dogs.
Not just dogs in the workforce — that is easy to see — but a lot of us share the same routines as our pets simply because we are used to going under the same order our whole lives. The only difference is that we know what lies beyond our house.
From the start, we are conditioned to go to school to learn our purpose. This point onward signifies the beginning of our attachment to work. Soon we find that working is hard, dull, and a mistake to tolerate. Everything has become a cycle of going to work and coming back to the same house everyday — comfortable.
What you see beyond your house is summed up by the hours of the day in which you scroll through a small electronic screen. Your life’s meaning lies in the mindless work you perform behind some counter, wall, or yet even another screen.
Your entire world is centered around a small group of activities that you do everyday — they don’t even have to be the things you like.
Even if we figured that we wanted to try something else —to explore what has not been explored about ourselves — chances are we won’t. Because not changing suits our comforts more. We’ve became accustomed to living the lives were used to, but when we see people achieving things, traveling to places, and experiencing something new, we start salivating.