My dog Scheyer is teaching me to not allow past experiences or fear of the future keep me from experiencing joy in the present moment.

When Scheyer sees someone that he really loves, I refer to his reaction as “The Purest Expression of Joy.” He doesn’t just wag his tail back and forth – his tail goes around in circles like a windmill. His hips move back and forth so rapidly like he’s doing a doggy merengue (which makes sense since his mom is Puerto Rican). His whole body shakes, he jumps up and down and he scrunches his ears back. Sometimes he is so overwhelmed by the elation surging through his body that he starts to make whimpering noises. It doesn’t matter if he just saw this person an hour ago or five months ago – he reacts like a teenage girl seeing her celebrity crush. And it warms my heart like nothing else in this world. His reaction is fearless, without any shame and completely focused on the present moment.

I call Scheyer my doggie soul mate because out of any pet I’ve had the privilege of sharing my life with, I feel he and I have the most similar personalities. One way I used to think Scheyer and I were alike is our capacity for joy. I’m not a perfect person, but one thing I thought I had figured out was experiencing joy. I’ve always had a great sense of humor. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been singled out by a comedian at a comedy show (including Craig Robinson from the Office) for my loud laugh which fills up a room.   The DJ at my cousin’s wedding asked if I could attend all of his events due to my ability to rally my family members and other guests to the dance floor. I love playing silly pranks on my co-workers (like putting a poster of Justin Bieber in my boss’s office) and making up goofy parody songs to make my friends laugh. And perhaps most like Scheyer, the owner of our doggie day care once told me that I am the only human she’s met that greets dogs with as much enthusiasm as a dogs greet humans (I guess I also tend to jump, dance around and make funny noises when seeing my babies after being away from them).

After reading Brené Brown’s book, The Gifts of Imperfection, I realized I have some work to do before I reach Scheyer’s “Purest Expression of Joy.” Dr. Brown explains that feeling joy requires real vulnerability and can be just as difficult (if not more difficult) as the vulnerability that comes with “negative emotions” such as sadness or anxiety. For example, while thinking about someone you love you may suddenly have a fear of losing this person – because of the fear of loss you do not fully allow yourself to feel joy over that relationship. In her book, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Changes the Way We Live, Dr. Brown identifies “foreboding joy” (not allowing oneself to feel joy) as one of the three primary ways people shield themselves from vulnerability. I was surprised at first to read the link between joy avoidance and vulnerability, but upon reflection it did not take long for me to realize I do this in my life all the time when it comes to experiencing the joy that comes from wonderful human relationships. My failure to live in the present – either by reliving what happened before or fearing what might happen in the future – keeps me from being able to express my joy so purely like Scheyer.

For example, I am blessed to have a great boss and incredible co-workers. In 2015 my father died and in 2016 my mother was diagnosed with cancer – both events caused me to miss some time from work. My boss has been incredibly understanding throughout this ordeal, encouraging me to take to time to deal with my family issues. My co-workers have helped me by covering my workload when I needed to take time off. Having such a great job and wonderful co-workers should be the ideal moment for “The Purest Expression of Joy.” However, past experiences and fears of the future creep in, dampening my joy. I remember when I worked at a my previous job at a large law firm seeing some lawyers come into work even when they had loved ones who were seriously ill (or even a day after a closed loved one had died); I feel guilty for not sucking it up even though I no longer work in that type of high pressure environment. I also think, “Jessi, don’t get used to this good deal because if your boss or some of your co-workers leave, there could be a different dynamic and you won’t have a good situation anymore.” I was afraid of the vulnerability that comes with experiencing joy at my current work situation, so I traded in my joy in exchange for the false sense of security that comes with guarding against vulnerability.

Thinking about how happy it makes me to see Scheyer in his “Purest Expression of Joy” mode, along with Dr. Brown’s work, inspired me to examine and try to change this tendency. And Scheyer provides a great model on how to go about this task – he lives fully in the present. When I take Scheyer and Britney out to a dog-friendly bar, I tie both of their leashes to the leg of the table where I am sitting. While Britney cuddles right up next to me, Scheyer (who loves meeting new friends) stretches out as far away from the table as the leash will allow into an area where the most people are passing by. He patiently waits for people to cross his path and he gets so excited when people stop to pet him. Some people, however, don’t stop and say hi and I see poor Scheyer lower his head and tail in disappointment. One would think that Scheyer would stop waiting for people to stop once he was rejected two or three times, but he keeps waiting, knowing that someone will stop and he will experience that surge of joy of meeting a new friend. Maybe it’s due to fact that dogs do not have the same capacity for remembering the past as humans do, but Scheyer does not allow past experiences to stop him from experiencing joy in the present.

Scheyer also does not allow the fear of a person leaving in the future stop him from experiencing joy now. My friend James (who I refer to as “Uncle James” in front of my pets) is one of Scheyer’s favorite people in the world. James and I used to be neighbors and Scheyer would see James frequently. Now that I moved to the suburbs, Scheyer only sees Uncle James every few months.   Nevertheless, Scheyer’s reaction to seeing Uncle James has been unwavering – he goes crazy, often knocking James to the ground and giving him lots of kisses. He does not hold back his excitement out of fear that Uncle James will leave and perhaps he’ll be disappointed. God blessed humans with the gift of imagination, but we turn this gift into a curse when we manufacture in our minds things that might go wrong instead of trusting God with our future.

My dad loved quoting Matthew 6:25-34 where Jesus instructs his followers not to worry and to trust that God will care for their needs. Daddy constantly reminded me not to worry – to let go of the past and to entrust my future to God. Until recently, not worrying not only felt like an impossible task, but also just another way for me to sin and disappoint God. I imagined God looking down from Heaven, waiting to zap me when I started worrying. I’ve known this Bible verse for years, but I never fully grasped it’s meaning until recently: “Cast all your anxieties on Him because He cares for you” (I Peter 5:7). Jesus does not command us not to worry because He wants another “gotcha.” He cares for us and does not want regrets of the past or fears of the future to ruin living in the beautiful moments that are right in front of us. In fact, Jesus loves me so much, He sent a wonderful dog to gently show me how much better my life would be if I opened myself up to “The Purest Expression of Joy.”