lassie, come home!

(...late night dog chases)

the other night was a good night: a warm, slow sun-setting evening, the smell of freshly cut grass, homemade dinner, a movie on a comfy couch... it was a good end to a long, spring weekend and i felt at home and nostalgic. however, when i got in my car to drive home, i was hit with a sudden burst of emotion i couldn't identify (shhh, don't tell people that therapists can't pinpoint their own feelings), and i felt off as i drove home.

about three blocks from my house, i was stopped at a light and saw a car across the intersection slow down and stop. to the right of the car was a large, hairy collie dog that looked like lassie's modern day twin sister. i saw that as the car slowed to a stop, the dog looked at the car, tilted her head, then bolted off at full speed in the opposite direction. the car started again, but couldn't follow lil' lassie because of the one way streets.

being a girl that has had to chase my own (black) dog in the dark many, many, many times, i sympathized with the car, and started following the sprinting pup to see if i could help. i followed and followed, weaving in and out of streets and alleys, going wrong ways on empty one ways (chasing a runaway dog at 11 o'clock on a sunday in a neighborhood is a great excuse to break the law). i followed the furry speedball for at least five full minutes until i lost her... every time i came close, she bolted in the opposite direction, until she made too tricky a move for me to follow her and she was gone.

sadly, i headed around and gave up my search for the lost lassie. i really, really wanted to bring her home to her owners, and i really, really wanted to tell her to stop running. i know, in fact, that a few times i shouted to her out the window: "dog! hi! just stop! i'm going to help you! i won't hurt you!". needless to say, lassie doesn't speak kaci.

the vision of lil' lassie's behind, running from me at full speed, has haunted my mind the past few days. not only do i hope she got home, but i weirdly identify with the pup, and realize that she was acting out the feeling i was having that night in the car: fear. i want to run away. that weird burst of emotion i felt when i got in my car to drive home was fear, and my knee-jerk reaction was to run. sprint actually, lassie-style, down a one-way street, trying to dodge whomever may be tailing me.

the reality is, i can't really run from what is scaring me. and i don't think, in my heart, that i want to run away; in my heart of hearts, i want to grasp on and hold tightly to the very thing that evokes the fight or flight feelings. but i fear (yes, fear of fear, how crazy is that?) that if i hold on tightly, it will only create the mess that i so desperately fear.

so, i went home. where it's safe, comforting, familiar. i crawled into bed, as a friend wisely advised me that late night insecurities are normal, but unresolvable. i offered up prayers of both hope and anxiety. and then i fell asleep. and during the day, in the light,  my fears aren't as scary. i'm not as tempted to run away as i was that night. and i think, with His help, i can continue to move forward, without either fight or flight.