Dog poop spirituality

The walk is lovely along an empty wooded trail, all silence and stillness. Trees rustle in the gentle breeze. Leaves crunch underfoot and give off an earthy scent. Soon, though, the smell of dog poop permeates every intake of breath.
Check one shoe, nope. The other. Yep. There it is, pressed into the grooved design of the rubber sole.
"Oh shit!" the mind yells. Exactly. Feelings of annoyance, possibly anger, and disgust arise. Why don't people pick up after their dog? Don't they care? Have they no respect? Where is the individual responsibility? Yada, yada, yada. In the moment of righteous indignation, the questions seem relevant. Yet, none of them actually are.
The only point for me to consider is that only in my decisions do I face a choice, including how I decide to react to the choices of others. So, what is the value in anger, in casting judgment?
This autonomy (while frustrating because how nice would it be if I could ensure everyone made the right choice) is a good thing. I process decisions every moment of every day regardless of whether I am mindful of them. Imagine adding someone else's carpe into my diem.
Some decisions are as mundane as do I pick up my dog's poop or what do I do if he poops and I forgot to bring a bag? Do I cut off another driver in traffic? Do I grab the closest spot in the parking lot even though I am healthy and can walk far? Do I hold the door open for the woman walking into Starbucks behind me so she may get in line first and get on with her day?
Other dilemmas grow considerably murkier and carry far heavier burdens. But small or large, in every decision, I face the same choice — true or false?
Spirituality does not teach me right from wrong or good from bad. Rather, spirituality guides me to distinguishing truth from false at the level of thought — truth being loving thoughts and false ones rising from fear.
From there, it follows that the world I see depends on the thoughts I think. Loving thoughts bring connection and make me feel safer; I have nothing to fear, there are no threats. Namaste. The divine light in me sees and honors the divine light in you. We are one. We are connected. I am safe.
Fearful thoughts, in contrast, fuel disconnection. The world grows smaller and more lonely. I feel overwhelmed and threatened. I am separate and scared; this is where anxiety and depression can creep in.
So, let's go back to that pile of dog poop.
There is nothing I can do about the shit (real or proverbial) left in my tracks or the person who made the choice to leave it there. It bears repeating: I have no control over the actions of others. I can, however, pay mind to my own — and my dog's — business.
The loving choice or thought I face when my dog poops is to pick it up. It's a simple matter of feeling a connection to others and respecting their right to enjoy a walk without stepping in my stinking mess of responsibility. It is a seemingly small choice, but one that holds enormous implications. I make the loving choice. In that instant, I choose the loving thought. And, that is the only choice I have the power to make.
Clearly, in many instances, the loving choice isn't always as simple and unburdened as cleaning up after my dog. There are complications in loving choices that on the surface may not seem loving, but in the end, hew to the best interests of all involved.
In every situation, I, alone, also choose how I respond to the choices of others. When I am the one who steps in the dog poop, I can choose the anger and hate, and jump into the fear pit.
Or, being a dog owner who has run out of bags — because, who poops three times in one half mile walk — and slunk away in shame, I know firsthand the situation someone else may have faced. In a hurry, well reasoned or not, I have cut someone off in traffic. I was that asshole. So, it's possible, isn't it, that the person who cuts me off has somewhere to be? Or, maybe there is a deeper story breeding bitterness and discontent.
Whatever the case, I can choose to respond with love, compassion, and understanding. If I am honest and true, what I hate in others, in reality, offers a reflection of what I have hated in myself. If someone disrespects me or discounts my opinion, I must ask, have I ever acted in a similar fashion? Have I ever had a hateful thought? Does someone else have to be wrong so that I can feel right and good?
The key is to ask in every action I take, in every decision I make: Does this lead toward choosing the truth, choosing love? A loving choice that will generate feelings of safety and connection within myself and others rather than promote a specter of fear and separation?
For in the truth, in the loving choice, I experience a lighter life. I grow into a more spiritual person, connected to others. The truth is, I am part of the whole; the whole is within me. And, in that truth, I choose love.

(Writer's note: This and many other lessons I have learned come from practicing yoga at Rhode Island Power Yoga and the 200-hour RYT training with Live Love Teach.)