Rule Number 6. And Other Simple Ways To See A Whole New World Of Possibilities In Scent Work And Everything You Do.

Once in a while I will visit our local Goodwill store and browse the bookshelves in the back left corner of the warehouse. By browse, I mean systematically scan every spine on every shelf. This means I tilt my right ear towards the floor in an effort to align my eyes vertically with the book titles, then begin moving from left to right across each level of shelving from top to bottom. I look like a Romero movie zombie, my feet scuffing the floor as I shuffle along, my arms occasionally stretching out to grasp at human brains transmuted into inky words on paper pages. Even in my zombie-like state, I am aware enough to question my posture and my prodigal use of time – if I died this instant, there are a million other things I could have done with the two hours it took to dismiss no less than seven copies of The Da Vinci Code, countless technology how-to books from the pre-smartphone era, hot-button-issue political books that were irrelevant the moment they were written, and scores of bad romance novels. Yet, I’ve committed my time to searching for things I didn’t even know I was looking for – or, maybe, I’ve made myself available to be found by something that has been looking for me. Almost always, I walk out of the Goodwill warehouse, into the overwhelming light of day with an armful of books whose titles, authors’ bios, and randomly browsed pages have found me. On my most recent trip, one of the books that found me is titled The Art of Possibility by Ben Zander and Roz Stone Zander. Here is an excerpt from a page I browsed in zombie-mode while a curious old woman asked me if I was going to read every cook book in the store (*guffaw* I wasn’t even standing near the cook books, they’re on the end cap of the first aisle!):

Two prime ministers are sitting in a room discussing affairs of state. Suddenly, a man bursts in, apoplectic with fury, shouting and stamping and banging his fist on the desk. The resident prime minister admonishes him: “Peter,” he says, “kindly remember Rule Number 6,” whereupon Peter is instantly restored to complete calm, apologizes, and withdraws. The politicians return to their conversation, only to be interrupted yet again twenty minutes later by an hysterical woman gesticulating wildly, her hair flying. Again, the intruder is greeted with the words: “Marie, please remember Rule Number 6.” Complete calm descends once more, and she too withdraws with a bow and an apology. When the scene is repeated for a third time, the visiting prime minister addresses his colleague: “My dear friend, I’ve seen many things in my life, but never anything as remarkable as this. Would you be willing to share with me the secret of Rule Number 6?” “Very simple,” replies the resident prime minister. “Rule Number 6 is ‘Don’t take yourself so g–damn seriously.'” “Ah,” says his visitor, “that is a fine rule.” After a moment of pondering, he inquires, “And what, may I ask, are the other rules?”

“There aren’t any.”

Page 79, the start of chapter 6: Rule Number 6, found me. I hadn’t realized I needed a reminder not to take myself so seriously until I read this anecdote. As soon as I read the final sentence, I knew instantly what I take so seriously: I worry that the entire trialing system of scent work is set up to reward loads of human behavior that is in direct conflict with how I view scent work. I worry sometimes that scent work is like a pie, and a smaller and smaller piece of it is left for the version of scent work I (and no doubt others) think is most fulfilling for dogs and people. I worry that if I don’t find a way to do my part to grow this slice of the scent work pie, it will cease to exist (this is referred to in the book as “downward spiral talk” – sounds wonderful, right?!). Thanks to The Art of Possibility, I’ve found a simple way to understand my feelings and to reframe my thoughts. It all starts with the concepts of the calculating self and the central self.

Chapter 6 of The Art of Possibility (the chapter that opens with the quoted anecdote) outlines the difference between our calculating self and our central self. The calculating self is always measuring things, thinking in terms of scarcity, competition, and getting others to capitulate to ones demands. The central self focuses on wholeness and sufficiency, on generosity and reciprocity, the central self is collaborative while the calculating self seeks to control.

My calculating self sees a false dichotomy: either fast, predictable, human-led searches with very little opportunity for communication between dogs & humans will triumph in the world of scent work, or the less predictable, more real-world, dog-driven searches rich with communication passing between dogs and handlers will reign supreme throughout the scenting lands. This kind of thinking creates the worry that, to use musical terms, the “classical music” version of scent work is dying and no one new is interested.

My central self knows not to take all of this so seriously! My central self knows to think as Ben Zander would – everyone loves communication-rich “classical music” scent work, they just don’t know it yet! My central self knows to ask, “who am I being” to help others find their love of this kind of scent work? My central self sees his job as providing people and dogs with opportunities to experience – and grow – the joy of mutual understanding through communication-rich scent work searching; to cultivate and harvest the endless bounty of scent work “practices in possibility”.

Following are some inspiring passages from Ben & Roz’s book. The book is arranged as a series of practices. Ben & Roz share in the writing and storytelling, creating a very powerful example of their final practice: Telling The We Story. The practices in the book apply nicely to the dog-human relationship being crafted through scent work. As you consider their teachings and applying them to your scent work practice, open yourself to any possibility, leave your calculating self behind for a bit and enjoy what wants to happen!

Chapter 1: It’s All Invented

Ben & Roz use a classic problem-solving test to make their point: you have a box made of nine evenly spaced dots in rows of three. Using only 4 straight lines, connect all the dots.

The solution is to draw a diagonal line that extends beyond the dots, then draw the other three lines like a triangle to connect the remaining dots. Most people cannot think outside the box unless prompted. As Ben & Roz put it, you can invent the space outside of the box. You have the ability to invent any framework that suits you.

Training methods, class structures, trial rules, social pressures, are all just boxes. You are welcome to invent some space outside of those boxes if it helps you see how to solve some problems inside of those boxes.

Chapter 2: Stepping Into A Universe Of Possibility

“In the measurement world, you set a goal and strive for it. In the universe of possibility, you set the context and let life unfold.” – Ben & Roz Zander

Ron Gaunt (co-founder of K9 Nose Work and the NACSW) said many times that “in K9 Nose Work we are trying not to put any human input into the dog… that way we will allow the dog to be exposed to using the very best natural instincts to successfully hunt the desired odor… have fun watching, not inputing, and you will see amazing results of success.”

Ron was guiding humans toward the universe of possibility. With some context (imprint on odor, some foundational benchmarks met) in place, the next step is to let the dog apply his particular way of learning to the situations he experiences, all the while building his skills – and yours, if you’re paying attention!

While Ron certainly understood the measurement world and how to win in that world, he knew that the riches of life were to be found with the dogs in the universe of possibility.

I view the measurement world as the hyper-controlled, baby-step, goal intensive realm of training methodologies, trial preparation and trial searching. The world of right & wrong, the world of comparison and competition, the world of failure to meet the goal or failure to follow the steps – the best steps – to the goal.

Ben & Roz suggest asking yourself “how are my thoughts and actions, in this moment, reflections of the measurement world?” By bringing awareness to the world you are likely living in – have lived in all of your life – you can begin to decide to step out of that world.

A universe of possibility-based approach to scent work might bring some short-term challenges, but it promises long-term growth and joy. I see far too many teams in scent work climb the ladder of competition, only to sputter, plateau or decline as they should be flourishing, and the response is usually a measurement-based, goal-oriented competition strategy to fix a problem that has mysteriously, suddenly arisen. You can choose right now not to live in that world!

Chapter 3: Giving An A

“I’m sorry for you; your lives have been so easy. You can’t play great music unless your heart’s been broken.” – Gaspar Cassado

“In fact, I actively train my students that when they make a mistake, they are to lift their arms in the air and smile, and say, “How fascinating!” I recommend that everyone try this. – Ben Zander

The practice of “giving an A” is wonderful as imagined and conveyed by Ben & Roz. Students benefit greatly from the act of writing a letter dated in the future, looking back on the past year, describing why they earned an A and what kind of person they’ve become. The students are to focus on writing about their attitudes, feelings and worldview, as “a person who will have done all she wished to do or become everything he wanted to be.” They are encouraged to “fall passionately in love with the person they describe in their letter.”

What if you wrote a letter dated a year from now and described the kind of person you will have become who is deserving of an A in understanding your dog, communicating with and collaborating with your dog in scent work searches. What if you focus on that person’s attitudes, feelings and worldview. What if you “fall passionately in love” with that person? What if you are ready to be that person right now?

With the “giving an A” practice, Ben & Roz say, “this A is not an expectation to live up to, but a possibility to live into. It is an act of moving past standards, judgements, comparisons. It is a commitment by the teacher to “line up with her students in their efforts to produce the outcome, rather than lining up with the standards against these students.”

In scent work, I see the “giving an A” practice useful in the coach & handler relationship, as well as the handler & dog (or coach & dog) relationship. In this moment, I’d like to highlight the handler & dog relationship. If the handler can line up with the dog in his efforts to produce the outcome, the experience of scent work becomes radically more fulfilling.

I’ve noticed that the handler & dog relationship is often very complex in much the way that a parent & child relationship brings out vastly different behavior patterns in a child than a grandparent & child or a friend & child, or a novel adult & child. If possible, it can be extremely valuable to have another handler search with your dog and reward your dog. You might see a different side of your dog. You might see some of the ways in which you line up with the standards of scent work training against your dog. This can include the way you react to your dog’s movements beyond known boundaries to the search area, the way you use the leash, your body, your voice around potential distractions, the way you reward – or withhold reward because you perceive the dog to be offering unwanted or incorrect behavior.

Ben & Roz aren’t woo-woo, kumbaya types handing out As to every goober who shows up at their doorstep. They aren’t practicing “giving an A” to be nice. They truly see the extraordinary effects of freeing the student and the teacher from unhelpful comparisons and bringing them together as a team. Now, a standard or a goal gives both teacher and student direction:

“If the student hits the mark, the team is on course, if not, well, “How fascinating!” “The instructor does not personally identify with the standard; nor does the student identify personally with the results of the game. Since the teacher’s job is to help her students chip away at the barriers that block their abilities and expression, she aligns herself with the students to whom she has given an A, and lets the standards maintain themselves.”

There is so much importance in these words. I suggest ruminating on what your experience might be like when you do not personally identify with the standard or with the results of the game.

Chapter 4: Being A Contribution

“I settled on a game called I am a contribution. Unlike success and failure, contribution has no other side. It is not arrived at by comparison.” – Ben Zander

The practice of asking, “How will I be a contribution today?” is simple and profound. It isn’t about avoiding failure, it isn’t about achieving success, it’s about showing up with something to offer – anything, whatever you can offer that day, or that training session.

If you believe that your scent work dog is a motivated, problem-solving searcher, how will you make a contribution when you’re on the other end of the leash? It’s a great question to ponder.

Chapter 5: Leading From Any Chair

“The conductor decides who is playing in his orchestra” – Ben Zander

Once again, from coach to student, student to dog, this chapter reminds us that we have the power to frame what we see in terms that will lead to energetic, creative, collaborative outcomes. Do we see a student who appears distracted, bored, annoyed, exasperated, or do we see in that same student, someone with a love for their dog, a desire to soar in partnership with their dog, to understand their dog’s searching behaviors and communication, to listen and learn? Does the student observing her dog see a distracted, lazy, defiant partner, or a partner who loves engaging with his human, who loves puzzling through searches and sharing communication with his human?

Chapter 7: The Way Things Are

“I don’t want the sound of someone playing this passage, I want the sound of someone trying to play it!” – Stravinsky

This quote is a response to a violinist claiming that a passage in Stravinsky’s violin concerto was unplayable. That’s not far off from a scent work handler claiming a particular hide was unfindable, or no odor was present for the dog. If we can separate ourselves from the technically perfect, mistake-free performance, and just play, we might be able to avoid, to paraphrase Ben Zander, “the voice of the soul being literally interrupted”.

Be generous to yourself in practice, not just in competition. If you cultivate the “voice of the soul” of your dog and yourself in all of your searching experiences, your searches will be as moving as the opening to Stravinsky’s The Rite Of Spring.

Chapter 7: The Way Things Are

“Mistakes can be like ice. If we resist them, we may keep on slipping into a posture of defeat. If we include mistakes in our definition of performance, we are likely to glide through them and appreciate the beauty of the longer run.” – Roz Zander

Roz is referencing a downhill skiing experience in New England, where she reframed the definition of skiing from traversing a snow-covered hill to traversing an ice and/or snow-covered hill. A beautiful search with a single mistake – like the dog quickly peeing on a post – is still a beautiful search. Quite often, we will end up making more of a problem by fixating on the mistake than if we just accept the mistake as part of the searching performance. This does not mean we wouldn’t work towards pee-free searching performances, it just means there may be other times and other ways to do that. It also means, there may be no actual problem. Sometimes, a performance includes a mistake. The end!

Chapter 7 goes deep into the practice of accepting (not resisting) the way things are. This does not mean you have to like the way things are, and it does not mean you do nothing in response to the way things are. It means “you start from what is, not what should be.” You take account of what is actually happening and “let the truth ready you for the next step.”

In scent work, we run face first into this challenge when our dogs communicate in a pattern of behavior we do not recognize – especially a pattern that makes us uncomfortable. Instead of staying present and taking in the way things are, we often shift our minds to the way things should be, and start inventing reasons why things are not as they should be. These two acts (living in “should” and inventing judgements/placing blame) make an otherwise possibility-rich situation into a dead-end street. Most commonly, this occurs when a dog chooses to search an area that appears to hold lots of distractions – shrubbery, wood chips, sign posts – and does so in a way that is not immediately identifiable as “focused” searching. Unfortunately, when a human loses confidence in the dog and ceases to be guided by what is really happening, a new reality takes shape, one in which the dog plays the expected role (drifting away from the search area, losing himself in distraction, eating wood chips or grasses, peeing). In this case, the dog was not distracted, the human was – but, try telling that to the handler whose dog just peed. If the human can stay present to what is really happening, he will see the dog searching the area, carefully considering the odor information that weaves itself throughout the potential distractions, slowly raising his head and increasing his pace, maybe taking a moment to think, then connecting those dots of information to the next dot, returning to the energetic and undeniable expressions of behavior that typically characterize his searching.

Chapter 8: Giving Way To Passion

One Buttock Playing and the BTFI

Both Ben and Roz have great stories in this chapter, but Ben has the catchiest phrases! The practice of giving way to passion is the call to be uniquely you, to support your dog in being uniquely herself. This is where technical ability and perfection may lead you to success, but lead you away from your unique self. Scent work is such a cool game; it really is a medium for artistic expression. For pete’s sake, if a gorilla gets to enjoy painting, let a dog enjoy playing the notes of odor, making visual music, uniquely his own. Better yet, join your dog in collaborative, passionate expression of the symphony of the search.

I’ve watched some handlers who lose connection with the dog during a search because they maybe are too focused on what they think they “should” do, or they don’t know what they are “allowed” to do. Most handlers operate somewhere between pallbearer and hall monitor, between dutifully somber and obsessively dutiful. Ben’s story about one-buttock playing is all about his experience collaborating with a young pianist to help him “catch the wave of the music with the shape of his body”, to help him infuse passion into his playing, to elevate the musical performance through an expression of how the music moves him. This turned the pianist from a very conservative, rigid, two-buttock player, to a moving pianist who moves his audience to tears. Some handlers are in need of more physical expression of how their searching dog moves them – they need to get off their buttocks! One example of this could be a handler exclaiming “get it!” to their dog when observing a behavior pattern that shows the presence of odor in a potentially complex environment (high distraction potential or highly variable air movement). Another could be adopting pacing and posture that are conducted by the movements of your dog. Most handlers need permission to explore choices of when, how, why to connect with their dogs – let’s just agree that it’s perfectly acceptable to try things!

The second story I highlight from chapter 8 is the origin of the phrase: Beyond The F— It! Ben is coaching a cellist for an audition and has him play his piece two different ways – the first way is “elegant, accurate, absolutely professional.” The second way is “full of passion… playing from the heart… a compelling force that cannot be resisted.” Ben counsels the student to play the second way for the audition. Three weeks later, Ben gets a call from the student. He didn’t get the audition. He played the first way. Ben says, “Never mind, Marius. You will have other chances.” Marius says, “No, no, no. You haven’t heard the whole story. I was so peesed off, I said ‘Fock it, I’m going to Madrid to play the audition for the principal cellist.” And how did Marius play in Madrid? The second way. And did he get the audition? Fock yeah!

This story highlights the value of “going beyond where before you might have stopped”. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if scent work were infused with the passion to bring something greater out of a team than we have yet seen? The dogs are ready to go beyond. The people just need to say, “Fock it!” and join them!

I very much enjoy watching a dog and handler go beyond mere searching and move into the realm of storytelling. I have been fortunate enough to witness a handful of teams who tell stories with their searches. It is as moving as a violinist’s performance of Bach’s Partita No. 2. These passionate scent work teams search without barriers to expression, they search without the limits of self-awareness. They are not searching to force an outcome, they are truthfully expressing the outcome that wants to be. These teams are not perfect, but they are perfectly themselves.

Chapter 9: Lighting A Spark

“Will you give me two quarters?” – Roz Zander

According to Roz & Ben, the practice of lighting a spark is all about enrollment – giving yourself as a possibility to others and being ready in return, to receive that same gift from others. If you can move into a world of possibility, you can light a spark that others are eager to catch.

Roz uses a personal story about finding herself on a bridge with a flat bicycle tire, next to a tire pump station, with only a $10 bill in her hands when the tire pump requires two quarters. Nearby, are two men, neither of whom have “change for a $10”. Exasperated, and thinking of how wrong the situation is, Roz manages to invoke Rule Number 6, and offer herself as a possibility to others, She asks one of the gentleman if he’s willing to give her two quarters. It’s as if the idea hadn’t even existed until that moment! He happily gives her the quarters, she fixes her tire, and rides on to her art museum destination.

How many times have we caught ourselves acting like prisoners of circumstance, when just a bit of a nudge into the world of possibility could free us and everyone around us? In scent work, I see dogs more naturally think in the world of possibility. A dog can communicate an energetic edge of odor at a found hide, and ask the handler for understanding. The handler, like the man with 50 cents, but no change for a $10, will deny the dog and dismiss the request with a flippant “you found that one, find another”, effectively closing the door on the possibility that the dog, having received understanding (verbal, physical, or reward-based) is now able to confidently describe a path from that found hide to a new hide.

Take every opportunity to catch the spark your dog lights, for he is quite often telling you there are new possibilities for communication beyond the usual way of doing things.

Chapter 10: Being The Board

“In the fault game your attention is focused on actions – what was done or not done by you or others. When you name yourself as the board your attention turns to repairing a breakdown in relationship. That is why apologies come so easily.” – Ben & Roz Zander

Ben & Roz use the game of chess to bring this practice into being. If you imagine yourself as a piece on the board – any piece – you can only “react to, complain about, or resist the moves that interrupted your plans. But if you name yourself as the board itself you can turn all your attention to what you want to see happen, with none paid to what you need to win or fight or fix.

If Rule Number 6 helps you chill the fuck out, Being The Board helps you do something about your problems. “The action in this graceful game is ongoing integration. One by one, you bring everything you have been resisting into the fold. You, as the board, make room for all the moves, for the capture of the knight and the sacrifice of your bishop, for your good driving and the accident, for your miserable childhood and the circumstances of your parents’ lives, for your need and another’s refusal. Why? Because that is what is there. It is the way things are.” You accept all of the players and their moves onto the board and you look for how to “make a difference.” You ask yourself, “how did that thing that I am having trouble with get on the board that I am?” Then you “seek to repair breakdowns in relationship.”

If you can get this concept – and, oh, boy, it is a challenging concept – it makes scent work very interesting. To move from the idea that you are the handler (or the coach), to the idea that you are the framework for the scent work game itself, frees you from the right and wrong of “how to be a handler” and puts you in relationship to everything that is scent work.

A common issue facing a scent work team is the emergence of “false alerts” when a team begins to search unknown number searches more frequently. If you are acting as the handler, you’ll think, “I’ve got to stop these false alerts. I’m not calling it next time unless he shows me twice!” Or, “I’m only paying him if his nose is right on the hide!” If you are acting as the game of scent work itself, you first wonder, “how did this false alerting get on my board? Perhaps I’m not providing the clarity and confidence in my behavior that my dog has received in all of his previous known number searches. Now, my dog is acting in ways I don’t understand. How might I make a difference here?” This way of seeing things may lead you to the conclusion that this trouble has very little to do with your dog & odor. You may also see that it is the fear of these false alerts that is new to the team experience. If you are the game of scent work and not the handler, you have nothing to fear – false alerts are a thing that happens in the game of scent work. If you are the game of scent work and not the handler, you see the handler – like a chess piece – isn’t designed to doubt the dog, but to receive the dog’s communication. Try your subsequent searches with this relaxed, accepting attitude and remind yourself that if you stay present in these searches, false alerts or not, you will learn something. And your learning is the way you make a difference.

2 More Practices Await You. Oh, The Possibilities!

Please get this book, The Art Of Possibility and enjoy your own unique interpretation of the remaining practices.

Ben & Roz Zander close their book with a Coda, assuring the reader that the book “had no intention of solving your problems”, rather, “It was interested in providing you with tools for your transformation.”

I close this post echoing the authors’ sentiment – don’t look for others to solve your problems. Transformation is not a solution to problems. It is a reframing of ones relationship to what is referred to as a “problem”, it is a reframing from the calculating self to the central self, from the success/failure downward spiral, to the universe of possibility, to “how can I contribute today?” Transformation is a practice. You don’t turn from this into that. You make a choice to cultivate the mind, the awareness, the intention, the action that is transformative – and you repeat that choice, sometimes multiple times a day, for as long as you want to live transformed. It’s ok if you slip, you can always become transformed again the moment you decide to.

Your dog already lives a transformed life. He is, as the Zanders put it, “a one-buttock dancer with the cooperative universe, a willing conduit for possibility.” Tap into that willing conduit and find out what’s possible.

Happy Sniffing!

p.s. – The Zanders have great websites, too:

Benjamin Zander Center

Rosamund Zander