Finding my Inner Labrador

I have a clear memory of being five or so. Laura said something to make me angry, and I fired something back. She laughed at me in response, so I started pummeling her with my little fists in a desire to hurt her too. She then grabbed my wrists and twisted them backwards, pinned me against the fridge, and laughed even harder. I remember being flooded with a feeling of rage laced with helplessness. Up until then, I had often fought back and gotten mad when my sister poked at me. From that moment on, I started disowning my anger and power, since it had not helped protect me. I felt shy around strangers, and the world seemed like a scary place. My disempowerment was further compounded by parenting that encouraged us to always put others’ needs first, and to be kind, considerate, and self-effacing. Lessons that served me well on a human level, but also cut me off from my own sense of agency and worth.

Laura and I are now extremely close and supportive of each other, and have done a lot of healing together and separately. My journey to reconnect to a sense of grounded power has been a transformative one. The following are some lessons I learned along the way.

My inner yappy dog

When I started my healing journey over a decade ago and began to explore some of my patterns of learned helplessness, I found that an inner yappy dog emerged to defend my collapsed, undefended self. You know the one I’m talking about? It’s the little dog in the fenced in yard you pass while taking your evening walk. The one that starts barking the minute you have passed it — to make sure danger is averted before alerting the whole neighborhood that it’s doing its job of keeping everyone safe. Yeah, that one. It makes lot of noise, but is pretty ineffectual since it barks at every animal, car, or person that passes. And really all it secretly wants is to be relieved of its guard dog duty so it can get love and attention.

When I thawed out of my freeze mode (which is what learned helplessness is, from a survival perspective) I went straight into fight mode. My inner yappy dog was just trying to protect me when someone or a situation appeared to threaten me. But it was hyper-vigilant, and thought everything was a potential intruder. If I jumped up every time it barked, it would be exhausting. And it still came from a place of feeling small and defenseless.

Finding my inner Labrador

As I started to heal the part of me that had learned to collapse and give my power away, and to give love and support to the angry part that emerged to defend her, I started accessing my inner Labrador. She loves to connect and is service oriented, but also has very clear boundaries. When someone starts to infringe upon that boundary, she gives a warning look, without being pulled off center. If the person disregards the look, she will give one, deep bark from a place of serene authority. No need to yip continuously, or to collapse in defeat. This place feels clear, protected, and loving. And if I fall back into my collapsed or yappy dog self, I feel into the part of me that feels small and scared, and give her compassion. I breathe and ground, and connect to my center. And call up the energy of my inner Labrador for support.

Exploring your wholeness

I invite you to feel into the places where you collapse. What does that feel like in your body? What are situations that trigger that?  If there were an image, or emotions, or words associated with that feeling of collapse, what might that be?

Now feel into the part of you that feels like it needs to defend your collapsed and vulnerable self from intruders. What does it feel like? Does it remind you of a yappy dog, or is there another image that comes to mind?

Finally, feel into that part of you that feels whole, balanced and grounded. If it’s difficult to access it right now, that’s OK. But you can just tell that part of you that whenever it wants to show up, it’s welcome. And see if any image, words or colors show up. If you could feel your version of your inner Labrador in your body, where would it be? And what does it want you to know right now? Imagine what it would be like if you could live your life from this place of balance, clarity, and compassionate authority.  If this is a new muscle you are exercising, give yourself a lot of leeway for falling off the horse (or the Labrador) as many times as you need before this place of clarity and balance starts feeling natural.