Dog-Walk Detour: Letting Go of Plans can be Rewarding

I am not the most flexible person in the world--I have probably mentioned that on this blog before. Committed, yes. Dedicated, yes. Self-disciplined, yes. Flexible, no. Not even a little bit. In fact, I am probably among the least flexible people you will ever meet. I like a plan--a concrete, set-in-stone kind of plan--for everything. But I'm working on it (sort of), and this past weekend, I practiced my flexibility while out walking my dogs.

I walk my dogs at least twice a day, every day, no matter what. As my uncle would say, "Them's the rules." Two walks a day. At least. Period. (There is little to no flexibility in the rigidity of this routine.) This past Monday, which was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and therefore a holiday from work, was no exception. So, after breakfast, my dogs and I set out. As I do for every walk we take, I already had a route planned in my head. On this particular morning, my plan was to walk a route my family and I refer to as Barn Road Loop. Though my dogs and I had been in the Northern Neck since Friday night and had already enjoyed four walks on the nature trails and through the neighborhood, we had yet to traverse Barn Road Loop. Today, I had decided, was the day.

We completed the first half of the predetermined loop, but when we got to the road that would take us to Barn Road, one of my dogs rebelled. He often does, having quite the mind of his own. (It just now occurs to me to wonder if perhaps, like me, he too sets out for our walks with his own predetermined route.) When I tried to coax him into turning left, he locked eyes with me, planted his feet in a posture reminiscent of a stubborn mule pulling against his lead, and held his ground.

Although I was reluctant to alter the route to which I had already mentally committed, I gave in. We weren't in a hurry, after all, and we could still walk Barn Road after this little detour.

No sooner did I stop pulling his leash in the direction in which I had intended to go, than my triumphantly tail-wagging dog led his canine partner and me down his own chosen path. 

When we got to where he was headed, I was so glad I had let him take the lead.

We were rewarded for our detour and for my reluctant flexibility with the absolute picture of peace. The morning was cloudy, but the clouds were starting to break, and their reflection shone like an impressionist painting in the water at our feet. There was no one else around. Not even a car in the parking lot of the nearby clubhouse. It was just me, my dogs, the sea birds, and the rippled reflection of the sky in the river. I grabbed my cell phone from my coat pocket and quickly snapped the photograph below. A sense of gratitude and serenity still washes over me every time I look it.

No sooner had I captured this serenity in the memory of my phone, than I was off to follow my dogs on whatever trail they had in mind now--which ended up being Barn Road Loop.

I let go of my plan as to the route my dogs and I would walk Monday morning and let them take the lead. When we got to where they decided we were going, I was rewarded with this beautiful, tranquil scene. This spot is located in Heathsville, Virginia, near where the Potomac River empties into the Chesapeake Bay.