Scenario 1: You’re getting back into your car after dropping your kids off at school. You notice that a dog has seemingly driven and then parked the car behind you. You make a mental note of the dog’s excellent posture. You chuckle all the way home.
Scenario 2: You’re getting back into your car after dropping your kids off at school. You notice that the car behind you has parked waaaaay too close to yours. You make a mental note of your general disdain for drivers everywhere. You scowl all the way home.
Plot Twist: It’s the same scenario. (Obviously—see photo above.)
I confess: I’m rarely the hero of Scenario 1. I like to live squarely in the scowl-at-the-universe-vibe of Scenario 2.
But when I returned to my car after dropping off my kids at school and saw a dog in the driver’s seat, I couldn’t contain the laughter. Those big, serious eyes just staring me down like I was the one out of place. And who knows? Maybe I was. Maybe that dog saw something I didn’t.
It wasn’t until I’d shown the photo to friends and family that the tenuous park job was highlighted. I’d missed it entirely.
Here’s the thing: I think every day, in probably more moments than we care to admit, we are faced with a similar choice. Do we train our focus on the dog in the driver’s seat—and laugh in delight? Or, do we become obsessed with the bumper-to-bumper choices of our fellow human beings? Do we let anger and irritation rule our day, or do we seek out and embrace the joy, the silly, the strange?
It’s all the same picture. It just depends on where we look. Where we choose to train our focus.
Will we scowl at the universe? Or let it delight us?
And another thing:
If you watched Bad Sisters on Apple TV — and even if you didn’t — you might like my essay “‘Bad Sisters’ and Good Forgiveness” from my weekly column, “Now Discern This.”