Like a Dog Catching a Car

 

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

In recent years, I’ve traveled extensively to a neighboring state for work. I’ve often found myself in one particular rural area. A dirt road passes in front of a house situated atop a small rise. The home, apparently a farm hand house, is adorned with a somewhat dilapidated, white picket fence. Enough slats are missing from the fence that it’s not even an inconvenience for the dog in the yard to break through and chase every car that goes by.

I suppose there is some kind of thought process that goes on in dogs generally. Otherwise, why would one dog lay placidly on a porch and not raise its head when a car goes by and another will chase it with all the reckless abandon of a four year old in a Batman costume.

I’ve wondered, though. What would that dog do if it caught the car? There’s no part of the car’s exterior that is susceptible to a dog’s bite, no matter how hard. At best, if the dog managed to latch on somehow, it would get dragged down the dusty rural road. At worst, it would get pulled under the tires, never to chase another car again.

One dusty afternoon, while that dog chased my Honda CR-V down the road, I pondered the question: when am I like that dog?

That question sneaks up on me at odd times, like when I see people scrambling to try something new just because it’s new. A Dutch Bros coffee shop opened near my neighborhood a couple of years ago, and the chaos was immediate. Residents in the adjoining neighborhood had to fight traffic just to leave their streets as police officers were called in to control the mess of cars lining up for coffee. This went on for days. A similar thing happened when In-N-Out opened nearby — and again when Raising Cane’s showed up.

I’ll never forget when a friend waited in his car for over three hours to get a burger at In-N-Out on opening day. Three hours! For a burger! Not to offend anyone, but In-N-Out isn’t even that good (in my opinion). And yet, there he sat, engine idling, inching forward as the minutes ticked by, chasing… what, exactly?

It’s easy to roll my eyes at those people, but then I think of all the times I’ve pursued something with the same single-minded determination, only to later wonder why.

The first thing that always comes to mind is my employment. I’ve spent plenty of time chasing metaphorical cars in my jobs. I’ve thought back on the ludicrous amount of time I’ve given to employers who have gotten rich directly as a result of my efforts. Like the dog, I’ve rarely stopped to consider the impact of the relentless pursuit of unattainable objectives.

Looking back on my life, I can’t count the number of early mornings, late nights, skipped dinners with my family, and sacrificed weekends spent chasing the approval of people more interested in profits than people. Like that dog, I’ve run myself ragged, hoping that catching some elusive reward would finally make the chase worth it.

The truth is, I’ve asked myself that question over and over: what will I do if I catch one of those rewards? What would having that thing change? What was I even really chasing? What I’ve learned along the way is valuable, but most of those pursuits feel as futile as the dog’s lunge at my passing car. The reward was never as satisfying as I’d imagined (does that make me a malcontent?), and the cost often felt heavier than the gain.

Remember the oft-quoted lines from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland when Alice asks the Cheshire Cat, “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”

“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.” The cat replies.

“I don’t much care where — ” Alice begins, then is interrupted when the cat says, “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.”

How many of us in life, like that dog, chase things simply because they’re moving or because they seemed important in the moment? Then, when you finally catch the thing, you find yourself wondering, “What now?”

There’s an irony here. The more I reflect, the more I realize that satisfaction rarely comes in the chase. I’d be better off like the dog who shows no interest in the passing car than the frantic mutt running a race it has no hope of winning.

Of course, we’re not dogs, and there are things in life that are absolutely worth chasing. However, in the frenetic pace of the world today, it’s getting more difficult all the time to determine what’s really worth the chase.

Here are three practical tips for identifying what’s worth chasing.

1. Define Your Destination. Before you commit to a pursuit, ask yourself what success looks like. Are you clear about what you’re chasing and why it matters to you? Without a destination, as the Cheshire Cat pointed out, any path will do — but it likely won’t lead anywhere you meant to go.
2. Weigh the Costs. Every pursuit has a price — time, energy, relationships, or even peace of mind. Before you dive headfirst, consider the sacrifices involved. Are the potential rewards worth the cost, or are you better off investing your resources elsewhere or staying where you are for the time being?
3. Measure It Against Your Values. Sync your pursuits with your core values. Does what you’re chasing resonate with what you believe in? If it doesn’t, even achieving your goal might leave you unfulfilled.

It’s wonderful that we live in a time of endless opportunities to chase — new jobs, fleeting trends, promises of success, and shiny objects that catch our attention. Remember, not everything that moves is worth pursuing. Pause to reflect on what you value to save yourself the exhaustion of running after goals that won’t ever be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow we hoped for.