I peer out of the kitchen window and scan the patio for my dog. I spot her standing in the middle of the pea gravel about 10 feet from the door making impatient little front-footed jumps to let me know she’s ready to come inside. Oh no, she’s stuck! Normally, she lets me know she’s ready to come in by standing on the doorstep pressing her ear to the patio door listening for movement. It’s 20 degrees outside and I’m still in my pajamas, dressed for the 65 degrees inside the house. Thankfully, I have on my slippers. I approach the patio door and examine the scene. She sees me and makes another small, frustrated leap. I look at her rope. She doesn’t seem stuck. The rope is loosely looped on the corner of the step from the patio to the yard, but she’s convinced that she’s hopelessly snagged and unwilling to pull harder at the rope. I open the door and call her in, clapping my hands.
“Come on Scout! Come on in!”
She jumps again more fervently, but doesn’t make any effort to tug her rope or get any closer. We have performed this ritual many times. She’s actually quite good at freeing herself; but sometimes it requires some direction--“ Back” or “Go around”--and other times it requires more aggressive encouragement.
“Come on Scout! You can do it!”
Other times she’s unable to free herself on her own, and I’ll go out and solve the puzzle. Regardless of how she becomes unstuck, there is always a prancey celebration dance of relief when she can make it to the door to come inside. It occurs to me that in either scenario, whether there is no way that she can untangle herself or if she just needs to tug a bit harder--as far as she is concerned, she’s truly stuck. That’s how people are too. It’s hard to know when you are feeling stuck whether you just need some direction to free yourself, or instead need some real help to get untangled. Our friends and family might look at our situation and say:
“Oh, you’re not really stuck. Just go this way and that way and you’ll be fine.”
Or, they might come over and help you untangle from whatever you feel tethered by and hold your hand as you feel a little less stuck. Whatever the case may be, the best thing you can do as a friend or family member of someone who is feeling stuck is to acknowledge and validate what they are experiencing.
“It’s completely understandable that you feel stuck, Scout, because it looks like your rope got caught.”
I step onto the patio and approached Scout. She wags her tail sheepishly. I walk past her and follow the rope. I lift it off the step--yay!--she does her dance and runs to the door. As we walk into the house, we both feel the wash of relief and cozy warmth.