“Wise men (and dogs) speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something.” – Plato
I’ve got good news – our dog pulled me out of my hole. But now I’m worried because she’s led me into one that could be worse. She’s telling me to write a book.
I’ll confess, this is getting confusing so I’ll back up. When I wrote Finding My Way I said how a Taoist:
“When confronted with the mysteries of the universe and the adversaries of life, those who follow Tao think first to secure their own inner character and how this is directly at variance with a great deal of modern thinking.”
The Taoist, Deng Ming-Dao, told in my story how he secured his inner character by, “Never jump(ing) out of the same hole twice.”
I’ve been wondering about his advice and about the “holes” people find themselves in. How many have there been for me – in my life – and what have I done to get free? Did I jump? Should I jump once again? That’s a lot of jumping, and jumping is hard when it’s about change. So now is when a man (or woman) needs a dog.
Cue the entrance of Louisa Dean, our special pup.
Louisa’s my buddy. We walk in the park just about every day, and while some might label her as only a dog, to me and my wife she’s much more.
Louisa, and those like her, are who Albert Camus spoke of when he said, “Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”
So it is for the two of us, we’re just good friends going for our walks in the park.
Special Pup knows all about my hole; it’s a hole about writing these stories and needing to think up a new one each week. After all, she’s been hearing about them her entire life. That’s why, when I brought this whole thing up, she kept quiet for a while, until about the time we reached the tennis courts, but before the bench where we have our snack.
“Why not tell your Choices Do Matter stories in a different way,” she said.
We continued walking while she spoke about how I could still tell my stories about choices, only they’d be longer (at least that’s what I think she said).
I thought about her idea. “A longer story might be good,” I said out loud. That got her excited, maybe longer stories would mean longer walks.
I told her a new story would include how I want to; “ … live in a world where people are kind to each other – a world where our environment matters. A world where the rules are fair to everyone – where wages reflect contributions to our society and our community.”
I regretted not including dogs, but I was happy to see that she had begun to wag her tail. Or was it wagging because we had reached our bench? Now, was her chance to stop talking, relax, and watch the ducks as they swam past the tall fountain.
Soon we were ready to get back on our way, and I told her that when (and if) I did write this longer story it would be about millennials – the ones everyone says are lazy. I would explain how any generalization never works for everyone and that just because someone does it differently doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Dogs understand things like being different.
I told Louisa how these millennials never know all the answers when they start out – how they learn on the job, so to speak, and how learning like that is the best learning of all. She understood what I meant from her puppy days and how she wouldn’t be as smart today if all her learning had come from some stuffy classroom.
After we got to the car, across the creek, Louisa jumped up in her usual spot, asking impatiently if she and her friends could be in my book. Puppy Daddy (that’s me) offered his usual answer, “Maybe, we’ll ask your Puppy Mommy when we get home.”
On the way home I realized Louisa had given me my answer – plus the best location in town for my new hole. I will write a book.
So here goes. Consider this a prelude to my first big story. I’ll still write Choices Do Matter, plus there will be a bonus, you’ll get to read, and help write, my book.
Now it’s your turn. You can start with your favorite dog story if you like.
Have you ever written a book? Any tips you would like to share?
If not, have you ever thought about it? Tell me what your book would be about.
As always, the conversation starts here.
Bruce, you were always the teacher! A book is a perfect fit. We walk our dog every night after dinner. He is a 90 lb lab, who just wants to run. Truth be told, we wait until dark and let him run around and sniff every bush without a leash. The block is quiet, we don’t want to scare anyone with a loose dog. He gets his exercise and we discuss kids, work etc. Of course I bring a bag…. can’t be a bad neighbor!
Your stories are great, good luck with the book!
Hi Eva –
Thanks for your encouragement and wonderful comment. And thanks for picking up after your dog, you’re a good “Puppy Mommy,” I’m sure.
This book, a first for me, will start coming at you fast. I’ll post a chapter now and then and ask you to join in. Does the story sound real? Is there a character you like? Is there one you don’t understand?
Your feedback will be my breakfast each morning as I try to make it better – for me and for you.
Now back to my writing, there’s work still to do.
– Bruce
Hi Bruce,
First of all I love the fact that you’re consulting and listening to your dog, who’s the individual most likely to give you an honest opinion and one based on pure unconditional love. Who better to consult?
A book’s a fantastic idea. Especially on the topic of millennials, which I can use to understand better myself.. It will be great!
Your Friend and fan,
Chrsitina
Hi Christina –
HaHa, yes, the talking came easy, it was the listening that was hard. We’ll see how right our dog was when the chapters start to appear. That’s when I’ll need your opinion and your millennial wisdom.
Thanks for the comment and for being Fan One.
– Bruce