Replacing Shame with Excellence

In Christian theology there is a concept that has mirrors in secular psychology, the idea that in order to get rid of something sinful, bad, or unhealthy, one must replace it with something good.

Addiction therapists are perhaps most known for this idea in psychology, using such healthy habits as exercising, budgeting into savings accounts, and cognitive reframing to replace drinking or smoking or shooting up. There is even an industry around the idea, marketing gum or chewables to replace cigarettes.

It is safe to say that conventional wisdom says that in order to replace something bad, to permanently remove something bad from your thoughts, behavior, or life, you have to fill the newly emptied space with something equally or more powerful, and preferably something good. As a born-again Chrsistian who reads p theology for personal edification and for fun, and as a counseling student nearly ready to begin her practicum, you’d think I’d’ve figured this out by now. But even after writing multiple times in this blog, and journaling about it more than that, about my frustrations and shame over imperfect dog guide behavior reflecting badly on the dog guide community, it took me until tonight to fully form the idea that I should be replacing my shame-faced thoughts with impressions of excellence.

I am, it turns out, a rather excellent dog guide handler. Not perfect, not the best there ever was. I’m no dog whisperer, but I’m pretty darn good. I’ve learned a lot through having two dogs and helped friends elicit good behavior from their dogs. My advice is regularly sought out by people at church and strangers at the supermarket or in the park, which means I’m doing something right. You’d think I wouldn’t worry as much as I do, with this overwhelmingly positive track record, but still I focus on the few incidents of work mistakes and distractions a lot more than on our successes.

Four weeks ago my dog walked me into the side of a doorframe in the waiting room at my doctor’s office, in front of patients, clerical staff, and nurses, who rushed to my side in case the blow was as hard as it sounded. I was so embarrassed that it actually raised my blood pressure. I forced back tears and used breathing and concentration techniques to drive the flush of shame away from my face so no one would think i was embarrassed, then re-worked the doorway with Greta, and we did it perfectly after that. But i was certain that other patients, nurses, and the receptionists spent the next five minutes murmuring about “that poor blind girl whose dog just ran her into the doorway, it was definitely not paying attention, she was just being dragged along!”

It didn’t occur to me that any of them might be talking about how impressive the re-working procedure was, remarking on how calm and focused I was, how normal I made it all seem, what a good trainer I was...or that they didn’t talk about it at all and just went back to their mobile screens.

I’m pretty good at training my dog now. Thanks to my wonderful trainers at TSE I’ve got a pretty solid handle on canine psychology and behavior, and I know a lot of good techniques, but I wouldn’t say I know most of them. So, instead of being ashamed of the fact that Greta occasionally gets so excited about work she misses a doorway (although, in her defense, that’s the first time she’s ever made that mistake), and she still barks at other dogs while working, instead of hiding those facts and letting my blood pressure rise every time I’m in a risky situation where she might betray our  inadequacy, I’m telling you about our problems, and how I plan to solve them. TSE is on my list of phone calls tomorrow; I know why Greta keeps barking at dogs while working, and I know techniques to make her stop, but those techniques either aren’t working or I’m not applying them correctly, so I’m going to ask a trainer for some new ideas and a review of the basics. Because we’re a good team, and part of my job on this team is research and training.

I’m replacing my shame and insecurity with excellence, and a drive for even higher standards. I’m not doing badly, or even average. I’m doing well, and there is no reason that intelligent, dedicated teammates like Greta and myself can’t expect to do better. These days, problem-solving skills are valued as highly as good performance; see me solve this problem, and be amazed and inspired :)

Ok, let’s be realistic. The next time Greta barks at a dog while working I’m still going to be frustrated, and I’ll still fight the little inner voice that says “way to ruin service dog reputation! No wonder Delta doesn’t want dogs on its flights anymore!” But that’s doing me, Greta,  Delta, and whatever passive, disinterested audience I may or may not have a great disservice, it’s inaccurate, self-absorbed, and unhelpful. So I’m making an effort to replace negative thought patterns with positive ones. It’s an active, moment-by-moment decision to monitor and reframe my thoughts from harmful, shameful insecurity to healthy, problem-solving confidence in good performance.