I See Scotties

“We see things not as they are, but as we are.”

--Henry Major Tomlinson

Some of my favorite activities on a warm, cloudy day are taking our dogs for walks, going on bike rides, and just sitting out on our deck, all which provide me the opportunity to lose myself in the clouds. They mesmerize me as much as I am captivated by the ocean waves when I have the opportunity to vacation on the beach. When I gaze up at the sky, however, I can’t help but see creatures and objects, especially when the sky is filled with billowing, cottony, flowing designs. In particular, I can’t help but see Scotties! Silly as it may seem, I’m filled with delight as I picture my beloved Mr. Gus rollicking overhead, signaling me that he is not only just fine in his doggy afterlife but also making me smile as I spot him romping above me. Today was one of those days when, no matter what cloud I examined and no matter how much each cloud transformed, there was Gus in all his orneriness—once even playfully making a new friend by sniffing another Scottie’s behind. I’d like to think that Gus is hovering over our homestead these days to send his “happy birthday” greeting to his former playmate, Dharma, our dachshund, who is turning 16 at the end of the month.

At the same time, it’s not only in the clouds where I find my old four-legged friend, as I can just as easily see Gus in the outline of a bush or tree, in a complex crack in the pavement, in the shape of a partially eaten piece of toast, and more. Crazy, but true! No matter the explanation—whether I’m still grieving that feisty little terrier or simply because Scotties make me smile—I know that I see Scotties simply because I want to see Scotties! In other words, my brain works with my emotions to produce something that I want. Mission accomplished!

Likewise, I believe our brain works in the same way in different venues and activities—sometimes not for the best. For example, I want to believe only what’s good about my friends and most (just trying to be honest) of my family, so I might easily overlook one of their flaws because I don’t want to believe they are capable of doing any wrong. (As teachers, we’ve all dealt with those types of parents, and I publicly apologize for being one myself upon occasion.) Similarly, I might blindly trust someone so deeply with my private feelings or risk expressing my innermost beliefs only to learn that they have been passed on to someone else. Even when two people witness the same event, their take on what happened can be quite different, perhaps depending upon what they want to see—for example, whether or not that team member did, indeed, step out of bounds or commit a foul.

Furthermore, as a generalization, this phenomenon could explain why we might be prone to misinterpret emails or make illogical inferences about body language. On that note…don’t misinterpret what I’m saying—I’m making no judgments here, as we’ve all likely been on both sides of these situations; plus, I’m not holding on to unrealistic expectations that anyone should—or could—be perfect. Finally, I know I’m stating nothing new or profound. At the risk of cliché, it is what it is—only it may not be what is at all!

As I now re-examine those clouds, I see that the sky is completely overcast, and Gus must have gone elsewhere, perhaps to visit my mom or to play with his doggy siblings that preceded him in that dog park in the sky. He may be taking his afternoon nap or basking in a pond of treats and squeaky toys. Even so, I can say today has been a good one because I was able to spend some much needed time exactly as I wanted—with my Scotties in the clouds!