It was golden hour. That magical time of day when the light bends in such a way that makes life glow and all things become clear. I was driving north on I-75 in my Bronco; my 30 year-old self, with Classic Rock jamming on the radio, pre-cell phones so no distractions, just Aerosmith and my thoughts. 

Up ahead, about 200 yards, I saw it on the passenger’s side shoulder. A large, black, dead dog, apparently hit and killed by a passing vehicle. Immediately I thought of my own dog, Sophie.

Sophie was an incredibly bright Australian Shepherd, and she was my best friend. At this time, I’d had her about 4 years, since she was a puppy, acquired in a bad split up. I didn’t care if I lost my home and all of my belongings and possessions. All I cared about is that I left that relationship with that dog. 

So as I sped forward, approaching  the lifeless dog on the side of the Interstate, it’s as though I started moving in slow motion. Enough time for years of happy Sophie memories to flash through my mind, and I felt my stomach tighten. What if this were Sophie lying dead on the shoulder? What if the owner never finds their dog? What if this dog was well cared-for but accidentally got out and ran away? Toward the highway? What if my well cared-for Sophie got out and ran away? Toward the highway, and then got hit and I never knew what happened to her? Tears rushed to my eyes as I drove toward the dog, mind racing faster than the 70 mph I was traveling, as I literally mourned the death of my own beloved Sophie. My body tensed, my throat clutched, as instant grief washed over me.

And then something life-changing happened. As I got closer, I realized the black mound on the side of the road wasn’t a dog at all. It was a glob of shredded tire from a massive semi blowout. I flew by the rubber in an instant and made my way home to my safe, sleeping dog.

My perception was my reality, and my body instantly reacted. Yet, I couldn’t have been more wrong. What a lesson to learn at 30…that my stories can dictate my mood, emotions, reactions, decisions, and even my physical body. In less than 20 seconds, I can tell myself an entire story that can set me off down a destructive path of suffering. An incorrect path, based on my own assumptions and projections. 

I thought I was so right, and  yet, I could not have been more wrong. It wasn’t a dog, or my dog, or anything living. It was a damn tire.

Challenge: Remember a time when you thought you were right, only to find out you were entirely off base? When your perception of something could not have been more wrong? How did it affect you? Or others? Or how you moved forward through similar situations. Please share!