The Innocent Bark

Metaphorical Narrative

It starts the same way it always has.
A sound breaks the air — high, sharp, relentless.
A small dog is bouncing, tail wagging, eyes bright with joy.
But my body? It’s already in the shadow of the wolf.
Every bark is a gaze. Every sound is a question:
What did you do?

I watch others flinch, wrinkle their noses, turn away in irritation.
Then I hear it:
Person A: “Well, the dog is just saying hello in her own way.”
Person B: “Well, that’s not a very friendly hello.”

And there I am — right in the middle.
Not sure which version to believe.
Historically, that choice mattered.
Choosing the “wrong” interpretation once meant humiliation, punishment, or loss of safety.

It’s not the first time I’ve been here.
The archive starts to play —
The predator dog, the wolf in the cold night,
the cubs biting in their “play,” the lion’s mouth carrying what it could also destroy.
The same question hides in every scene:
Is this care or is this harm?

The sound keeps going, and I feel the oldest reflex rise:
If it’s my fault, I can change. If it’s my fault, I can survive.
But it’s not my fault. And this isn’t then.

Core Insight

Self-blame is an ancient survival trick.
It gave me a sense of control when the world was unpredictable.
But in harmless situations, it’s not control — it’s overinterpretation.
It tags joy as danger, sound as accusation, presence as performance.

This reflex doesn’t belong to the present.
It belongs to an old survival tape —
one I can take out of the player, right now.

Saturday Experiment

Burning the Overinterpretation

1. Name the reel:

“This is Wolf Gaze footage — not the present moment.”

2. Anchor in now:
   Feel the ground under your feet, notice one exact color in the room.

3. Throw it to the fire:
   Visualize every old scene — the wolf, the cubs, the lion, the barking dog — tossed into the King of Two Slots fire. Only Slot 1 and Slot 2 remain.

4. Neutral verdict:
   Say:

“That’s just a sound. It exists without a verdict.”

5. Live test:
   When a sharp or repetitive sound appears, practice letting it pass without checking if you caused it.

Sunday Reflection

Write about one sound, movement, or expression you misread this week.
Describe what really happened — not what your body assumed.
Notice how the scene changes when you leave the verdict out.