Life Experience By Any Other Name

bag•gage |ˈbagij|

noun

1 personal belongings packed in suitcases for traveling; luggage.

• the portable equipment of an army.

• figurative past experiences or long-held ideas regarded as burdens and impediments : the emotional baggage I'm hauling around | the party jettisoned its traditional ideological baggage.

I was Facebook chatting with a friend yesterday and we were talking about relationships. I said something about all the baggage we drag around and force other people to deal with. After a long pause she said, "Can't we call it life experience?? That sounds a lot better than baggage!" I'll concede the point.

Potato. Putahto. We've all got it.

The conversation came to me again when our little family was relaxing on the couch last night. We were watching the movie Defiance and everyone was a little sleepy and quiet. Sammy was upstairs on the bed and Oliver was dozing, completely draped over Ali's lap like a little black and white spotted afghan. When the movie ended Ali slid her arms underneath Oliver and moved to lift him to her shoulder and carry him to his crate for the night.

When she did this he panicked. He snarled and lunged at her face, teeth bared with a wild, sleep crazed look in his eyes.

Panic ensued. There were tears of hurt, surprise and fright. Oliver immediately acted as though he wanted to die of remorse and shame.

It's not the first time he's reacted this way when being awakened from a deep sleep. Sometimes his terrors happen when he's all alone and no one touches him. It's scary. I don't think he knows why he does it. We certainly don't have a clue.

Something that should be peaceful and restorative has become anxiety-ridden and shameful for him.

Oliver has baggage. Apparently he has some disagreeable life experiences that have affected his ability to function when he's sleeping. He didn't come to live with us until he was more than a year old. All we know is that he and his brother Frank were on the streets for quite some time. Where did they sleep? What happened that made him so wary when he's awakened suddenly?

Last week we found out that he has an almost paralyzing fear of fire. When burning some branches that had fallen during a storm, Oliver was so crippled with fright that he was unable to move. His fear was so debilitating that we had to carry him into the house. As soon as we crossed the backdoor threshold he was fine.

Something that is warming, relaxing and mesmerizing to me is a cause for stomach churning, tremor inducing fear for him.

Have you ever tried to climb inside another's skin, just to see what life looks like when looking through their eyes? Haven't you ever wanted, more than anything, to be able to slip into the heart of someone you dearly love to feel what they feel? To find out why their fears are so real and yet their joy can be so boundless?

Perhaps that would be the spiritual practice of holding another in reverence.

Reverence stands in awe of something. Reverence allows me to acknowledge the smallness of my own experiences and then forces me to respect the vastness of all that I cannot know or feel about another. It might help me remember that all the fears, insecurities and failures that have scarred Oliver are no less real than the experiences that have scarred me. 

I just might be a little better at hiding mine.