Loss of Identity

As I considered what to include in this book, this was a very important chapter for me. I toyed with whether to address this topic or not because, when I have to confront it in a session, it tends to be a very touchy subject for everyone involved, including me. However, because it is common in so many animals, I decided it needed to be written.

One of the major characteristics that human beings and animals share, specifically dogs, is that of being solid in their identity. If we humans don't have a hold on our identity, then just about everything else fails. Our circumstances in life seem confusing and connections to our self and the outside world seem nearly impossible. We want to scream “who am I?” at the top of our lungs hoping to God that we get an answer or something that propels us forward into a clearer realm of understanding.

To illustrate the loss of ability to live out our true natures, I have a story about a little Chihuahua I recently met.

Sammy

She is a girl but was clearly given a boy's name. That's fine, but she also had a male companion who never had a dog before and really had wanted a big boy dog. Sammy was little, but tough. She wasn't allowed to socialize very often with any other dogs, and at home her human companion treated her in a rough and tumble way. All the while, he never truly identified that he ever really loved her. Sammy knew she was a girl, but she brushed her feminine nature aside so she could seem more male and so her human companion would love and acknowledge her. If he needed a boy dog to love, then that is what Sammy would be.

The problem was Sammy had gotten herself into a horrid mess. Her behavioral plan wasn't working, and when I was introduced to her, she was a sad and very confused little dog. She didn't know who or what she should be.

Any time Sammy had an opportunity to socialize with other dogs, the other dogs would give her a hard time. Before she would even get involved with them, Sammy would cry and scream and bark. She was basically saying, “I am confused. I am little. I am a girl but I am supposed to act like a tough boy dog. I never get let out to be a true dog. Frankly, I am a mess. Stay away from me, stay away from me. Where is my identity?”

This case involved a loss of identity for a dog and a severe loss of identity for the human companion as well. I found this out as revealed by the dog's energy when working with the family. The beauty about animals is that they are not selfish. When I am working with them, they not only let me know what is going on with them, but with everyone in the family. They ask, “How can we all be helped?” It is never just the dog—it is always the family unit. This attitude is derived from that wonderful pack mentality that we as human beings don't always subscribe to.

As soon as I was ready to restore identity to this wonderful little animal, she effortlessly stepped into her natural light. No barking, no hesitancy, no chaos, and no disturbance. I offered it and Sammy gladly, quietly, and respectfully walked into it. At the same time, her human companion now felt safe to say he loved her for who she was and nothing more. He truly loved Sammy as a tough, beautiful little girl who deserved to go out and discover everything about her true dog self, and told Sammy he was ready to support and promote her socialization with other dogs. Sammy accepted what her human companion was now giving her, and it was done. You could see a light around Sammy that didn't exist before, and she was immediately living and functioning in the moment of her rediscovery. And, she loved every single second of it!

Sammy is an example of how animals can teach and guide us to our true identity. However, we must not forget that at the same time we also have the ability to take animals very far away from their own natural state and that the destruction of their identity can be worse than we ever imagined.

Because we possess that ability, this is a cautionary tale. We have become, as a society, too comfortable with the unfamiliar beings living inside our collective skin. We are lazy and fearful about wanting to know who we really are. We have extinguished some of the boundaries that set us apart as individuals. We have seen it in our own lives time and time again. If we can learn to control our energy for ourselves first and foremost, get acquainted with it, and know that its source lies within us, then the energy flowing out from each of us is cleaner and clearer, which, in turn, keeps everything cleaner and clearer for all of us.

Rediscovering your true nature, recognizing and knowing your true identity, and being in the moment, as animals are, help us learn how to deal with so many situations—how to love, enjoy, react, eat, socialize, and just be. Life is limitless. It is a concept I try to learn from daily. It's not always easy and that's why it is so wonderful if you happen to have a dog as a teacher. Learn from them. Learn how to love the process of exploration, the struggles that come with it, and be open to finding whatever knowledge it brings.

Since we are a society that has mastered the loss of identity, resolving an identity crisis is a very difficult process. We are all masters of disguise, putting on one mask after another until one day we throw one more mask on and realize we haven't taken the other ten off. Then we can't for the life of us find who the true individual really is.

In our desperate attempt to know who we are, we run into the closet, throw every mask we ever had into a pile, and shuffle through them all in the hope that one of the masks will make some sense. We long to recognize the raw face, the original soul, and the personality we know ourselves to be. Yet, sometimes the struggle is so intense we drop to our knees, look in the mirror, and have no idea who the hell we see reflected back. Our soul is gone, our heart is no longer connected and we wouldn't know our true self if it patted us on the back and said, “Hey, I am right here!”

Getting used to one's real identity is quite a wonderful and new adventure: the ground feels different and at times a bit shaky; smells are different, likes and dislikes change, and more. This is why I want people with whom I am working to walk in their new skin for a little bit before coming back to me to be cleared of all their stagnant energy and experience a full soul retrieval. In this way, although the process is still serious, it is much kinder.

As to how an identity crisis manifests in animals, I see all too often, whether meeting dogs on the street or working with them, that we humans have handed an identity to our dog that meets our own desires and state of mind. We do this by placing issues as well as stereotypes onto them to suit our needs, dimming their true light. In doing this, their dog nature can become lost. In contrast, there are plenty of dogs out there that are comfortable swimming in their true self and are lucky to have human companions who are also very content and happy in their own skin, allowing their animal to exist in its true nature, all the while appreciating and encouraging their unique identity. In these instances, both the animal and the human being are playing in their own zone and know exactly what and who they are.

It doesn't take much for dogs to recognize an identity crisis in another dog. When dogs run into another group of dogs or stop to sniff each other and say hello, they can tell right off the bat, even before making contact, if the other dogs are solid and comfortable or whether any of them don't have a grip on their own dog identity. How can we tell? Usually the behavior looks like this: the other dogs won't approach to sniff that dog and say hello, they aren't curious about the dog, they act out a bit, or they don't want anything to do with the dog. As human beings, we often socialize, function, and live without ever knowing our true identity, and virtually no one, I mean no one, will detect it. Interesting—this is not so in the canine world. It is almost entirely not tolerated.