Of husbands and dogs

“My husband doesn’t respond to me when I complain to him about something,” a middle-aged woman grumbles to Ven. Pomnyun, a well-known Korean Seon master who is famous for his ability to deliver profound life lessons in simple, sometimes startling ways.

“Does a dog answer you when you ask it a question?” Ven. Pomnyun responds with his question. “No, of course not. That’s why it’s easier to raise a dog. You don’t ask a dog whether it wants to eat or not. You just feed it, and it’s grateful for it. So, think of your husband as a dog that you are raising, and you will have no problems at all. I mean, your husband goes to the bathroom by himself, right?”

“Yeah…” the questioner agrees sheepishly.

“He dresses himself. He washes himself,” the Seon master continues. “So, your husband isn’t really bothering you or unduly imposing on you. So, this is only a problem because you are making it a problem when there is no problem to begin with.”

Advising women to “treat your husband like you would treat a dog” may seem flippant, even offensive. However, beneath the surface, it embodies a powerful truth: much of human suffering stems from unmet expectations of others, and by adjusting these expectations, we can dramatically reduce our own emotional pain. Ven. Pomnyun’s advice is not a denigration of marital relationships but a call to manage our expectations, see others realistically and practice acceptance — essential steps toward personal liberation from suffering.

No matter the culture, the relationship between husband and wife carries a heavy burden of expectations, often transactional in nature. A husband is expected to be a provider, protector, emotional companion and sometimes even a source of validation. Similarly, wives are often burdened with expectations about loyalty, sacrifice and nurturing. When either party fails to meet these often unspoken, often idealized standards, disappointment, resentment and suffering follow. Ven. Pomnyun’s teaching cleverly challenges these ingrained ideals by offering a metaphor that forces people to reframe their mindset: if one can care for a dog with patience and unconditional acceptance despite its occasional misbehavior, why not extend the same grace to one’s spouse?

Managing expectations does not mean lowering standards for abuse or accepting harmful behavior. Instead, it means acknowledging that people are who they are — not who we wish them to be. A dog barks, chews shoes and sometimes fails to behave exactly as its owner would like. Yet most owners do not spend their lives angry at their dogs; they accept them, train them where possible and love them anyway. Similarly, spouses — like all human beings — have flaws, habits and shortcomings. They come with their own sets of experiences, wounds and limitations. Expecting them to fulfill our every need or behave according to our personal script is not only unrealistic but a sure path to unhappiness.

The emotional suffering that results from unmet expectations is rarely about the external event itself. It is about the meaning we assign to it. When a husband forgets an anniversary, the suffering a wife feels is not purely because of the forgotten date; it is because she interprets that forgetfulness as a sign of carelessness, disrespect or lack of love. In this way, unmet expectations feed narratives that deepen emotional wounds. Ven. Pomnyun’s advice is a call to cut off that suffering at its source: to accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, and to recognize that our expectations often cause more pain than the event itself.

There is also an empowering dimension to this teaching. When we realize that we have the power to manage our own expectations, we reclaim control over our emotional lives. We no longer depend on others’ behaviors to determine our happiness. Instead, we cultivate inner peace by adjusting how we interpret and respond to the inevitable imperfections of others. This is deeply aligned with Buddhist principles: suffering arises not from external circumstances, but from our attachments and aversions — our insistence that things be different than they are.

Ultimately, Ven. Pomnyun’s teaching is a compassionate one. Accepting that others will not always meet our ideals — and loving them anyway — frees us from the endless cycle of hope, disappointment and resentment. It invites us to find peace not by changing others, but by transforming our own minds. And in that shift, we find the seeds of true happiness.

Husbands and dogs make another memorable appearance in Ven. Pomnyun’s teachings. “We recently adopted a dog,” a man’s injured voice says indignantly. “And the dog immediately took over the top position in our household’s hierarchy. What could the dog possibly do better than me to deserve the top position?”

“It’s what the dog doesn’t do,” Ven. Pomnyun replied nonchalantly to the audience’s general laughter. “The dog doesn’t nag. It eats when you tell it to eat and doesn’t complain. On the other hand, you complain, nag and don’t do what you’re told, so no wonder you’re a notch down the ladder from where your wife is sitting.”

Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture. The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect The Korea Times’ editorial stance.