Learning to Love

Abby is our dog. She’s a rescue, so we THINK she’s a lab/pit bull mix. She’s playful, full of energy, cuddly and a bit neurotic so she fits well into the family.

She’s two and like all labs still full of puppy. When I come home from work, she acts like I’m a soldier returning from war, wags her whole body, runs and jumps on me.  If a dog can love, she loves me and wants to show me.

Abby loves to jump. She gets excited, wants to be close to me and jumping is what comes naturally. It’s what feels right to her.

But I can’t have her doing it. She loves kids and kids love her, but she is so big and strong she would really hurt one with her “love.” She needs to learn not to jump.

People are the same way. Because of how we are wired, events in our past, insecurities, selfishness or an unmet need, we love poorly. Sometimes even in ways that hurt others.

We engage with people, our coworkers, friends, family, spouse in ways that feel right to us. But what feels right to us, many times, isn't loving.

Many times, when I hug Nancy, I do it not because I think she needs a hug, but because I need one. So while a hug is a loving gesture, it is really about me.

Nancy is more likely to feel loved if I fix the ceiling in the kitchen. It’s not that she doesn’t like hugs, it’s that she needs me to fix the ceiling and that stuff means something to her. It makes her feel cared for.

I had to learn that. It’s not something I could deduce by looking at her. I had to spend time with her, get to know her, invest in her, then choose to love her. Love her the way she receives it, not the way I do.

Love has to be learned before it can be practiced. Otherwise it’s not love at all. Here is lesson one.