Bear says " Relax"

This morning, Bear found the coolest patch of floor in the house, sprawled out like a 180-pound monument to chill.

Head low. Eyes barely open. One paw lazily folded under, the other stretched out like he was pointing toward stillness itself. He didn’t move when I walked by. Didn’t lift his head. Just flicked one ear and let out a deep sigh that seemed to say:

"Hey man… relax. You’re doing too much."

If Bear could talk, I swear he’d sound like The Dude from The Big Lebowski.

Not rushed. Not pressed. Not worried about your expectations. Just calm. Confident. Present.

And somehow, wiser than anyone else in the room.

That’s the thing about Bear. He doesn’t chase. He doesn’t posture. He doesn’t scramble for attention or affirmation.

He just is.

And in a world where we’re all sprinting for the next thing—achievement, recognition, perfection—Bear reminds me of something I forget too easily:

Peace doesn’t always look like progress.

Sometimes, peace looks like choosing stillness when everything else says you have to move.

Bear came into our lives with a history, like most of our rescues. But he’s not defined by it.

He’s not stuck in it.

He’s just here.

With us.

Breathing deeply.

Loving freely.

Being fully Bear.

And I think that’s a kind of wisdom we overlook.

Because the truth is—rest isn't laziness.

Calm isn't complacency.

And abiding is its own quiet kind of strength.

So if you’re wound up today, trying to outrun your own shadow, maybe take a page from Bear’s playbook:

Find your cool spot.

Let your shoulders drop.

And stop trying to earn what you already deserve.

Stillness.

Safety.

Love.

It’s all already there.

You just have to believe you’re worth it.

Because as Bear reminds me every day:

The Dude Abides.

And you can too.