This month seems endless. Just when I think I’ve finally cleared the hump, survived the grey/cold/wet, and kept trudging along, January dumps yet another week upon me. I resist thinking I have seasonal affective disorder, but I have to face the fact that January just isn’t my month.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m just dog paddling through life — doing well enough at keeping my head above water, but not really making much progress. Dog paddling always seems like hard work with precious little reward. It can feel like an endless slog across the water, just to reach the side and hang on perilously for dear life.
Just check out a few of these images I found for “dog paddling.” Many, in fact, most of these dogs do not appear to be thriving. Can you relate?
I mentioned this to a friend last week and she said she felt the exact same way. Is it possible that there are more of us out there? Dog paddlers just trying to make it to the side of the pool or the steps or the shore or wherever. Above the surface, we can breathe and we are slowing moving forward but below the surface, there’s a desperate scramble to stay afloat.
Dog paddling distresses me most because of two seemingly logical, but ultimately false assumptions First, while I’m stuck in the dog paddle, it seems like all of you are swimming merrily along or, at the very least, are floating comfortably. Turns out, most folks aren’t floating or swimming, but are struggling just as hard as me. Second, even if I were to believe that many of you are just dog paddling like me, somehow you make it look good. It seems to be a little easier or graceful on you. That holds true in the canine world where these images contrast starkly with those above. Below, the dogs are graceful, elegant, composed in their methodical dog paddling. Above, those dogs are fighting for their lives and just barely winning.
As always, compare leads to despair.
I guess it’s not so bad, really. Dog paddling beats the alternative. Although dogs will instinctively paddle when immersed in water, they can sink. That tidbit came from a leading dog vet and author of dog training manuals. Once again, an expert stuns with profound insight!
I too can sink, if I don’t paddle. Hmmmm. Now paddling appears almost normal.
I feel even better about myself when I consider dog paddling along the continuum of swimming. Here’s how my thinking goes:
- Denial. I’m not going in the water.
- Toe-dipping. I’ll just stay safe and dry but I’m willing to risk placing one teeny, tiny toe in the water to see how it feels.
- Immersion. Oh hell! I’m in. I’m sinking. This is happening.
- Dog paddling. I’m scrappy and fighting, but it’s not much to look at.
- And, finally, swimming. Olympics here I come.
So here I am dog paddling toward destiny. If you are just getting by, welcome to the club. We are all waiting for easy street. For now, be grateful you can still paddle and keep faith that you’ll reach the side where you can pause or turn over to float for a while to give yourself a break. Even better, perhaps you can coast with a friend.
Boonedoggler 