All is Not Well That Ends Well

An essay.

The Way of the Fearless Writer, Beth Kempton.

Normally, I allow myself to get upset, overwrought and anxious over stupidity…such a harsh word, and yet…if the stupid shoe fits, one should wear it, eh?

SITREP Phase One: Uber-shopping disrupted by two unscheduled and random occurrences. A lost wristlet containing credit cards, money, IDs, etc., was carelessly left in one of the twenty stores visited in less than half an hour (I like to think of this as speed-shopping). Awareness of the lost wristlet occurred when I asked to borrow a couple of bucks from my beautiful and brilliant daughter who spends a great deal of time in LaLa Land - I only visit it occasionally. This unpleasant discovery required 20 minutes of speed walking back to all the stores previously visited, tracing steps, climbing flights of stairs (the elevators had waiting lines and were too slow), bending down and crawling around to search crevices, endless inquiries of store personnel, “Did anyone turn in a wristlet?”, and a visit to the Lost and Found which was  tucked inconveniently at the end of a long, dark hallway. BLUF: The wristlet was found!

However, this was only the first phase of the insidious stupid shoes that can find purchase anytime, anywhere upon the feet of the innocent and unsuspecting (especially if too much time is spent in LaLa Land).

SITREP Second Phase: Within ten minutes of Phase One’s resolution, the same beautiful and brilliant daughter lost her cell phone. This required more speed walking, searching, and interrogation of those same store personnel, including traversing the same stairways and another trip to the Lost and Found haunted hallway. Suddenly remembering that her and I share the “Find my Phone” app, we began to wander about as though on a scavenger hunt, trying to follow the designated path regardless of the in-and-out connectivity and misleading screen mapping which did not clearly show which floor held the missing phone. BLUF (BLUF is not an entirely accurate description since I have gone into much preliminary detail to get to the point) - we found it!

Before all this, I had been fretting over allowing myself to get behind in my group assignment from The Way of the Fearless Writer, and as this chain of events started to unfold, I decided to seize the opportunity to do something differently than usual, and thus complete my assignment! Therefore, I did NOT voice my disapproval, huff and puff my displeasure and/or screw my face into a disagreeable display of disgruntlement (trying hard to ditch all the dissing which is my usual SOP in situations involving the stupid shoes).  Instead, and with no small measure of difficulty, I stopped myself!

So, it seems a small exercise in a book I read mostly to improve my writing took on far greater implications for my life and future as a sort of Zen master (or at least a budding acolyte). The more I thought and the more deeply I dug, I realized that the things that most arouse my anger and condemnation are witnessing my own dreaded and imbedded habits and faults popping up and playing out in others – especially those closest to me. I thought of one of my favorite poems which I memorized as a teenager to console myself after the realization that I was a weirdo who spent way too much time in LaLa Land:

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - 
I took the one less traveled by, 
And that has made all the difference. *

I saw that with amazing restraint, on this fateful day, I took the high road, the one less traveled by, and did not allow my usual pattern to play out: I helped locate the lost items, trudged up and down the stairs in and out the shops with nary a snide remark, rebuke or tsk-tsk escaping my mouth. And I must say…it was…AMAZING! All that cortisol packed away by the barrel in the soul of my being did not find its way into my system and the day turned out quite pleasantly. The daughter found no reason to lash out and remind me of the myriad of shortcomings in my parenting skills and neither of us had call to use the silent treatment after indulging in a barrage of blame and ridicule.

The most pertinent, and frankly amazing point of all this, is that IAW the assignment, I managed NOT to react with my usual sarcasm and general dissing. I made myself behave differently outwardly and began inwardly to examine why such things annoy me so deeply.  I know there a few of you out there who, like me, get generally pissed-off about finding the stupid shoes on your own feet or even when having to witness someone else wearing them…but then, I thought of all the mothers (and fathers, and grandparents, and teachers) who demonstrate infinite patience. This God-given-patience-of-Job does not seem to abandon them when dealing with 30-something millennials (like my beautiful and brilliant daughter) – they take it all in stride with a gentle sense of humor…and I realized that more than anything, I wanted to be like one of these guys!

My assignment now complete, I cannot with only one victory under my belt claim to be a “new woman”, though I feel hopeful about my ability to change. As I continue reading, The Way of the Fearless Writer, I am reluctant to admit that I am more of a Fearful Writer…and so much that plays out as anger in me is based on fear. Fear that I have lost control, fear of life-altering failure, fear that a loved one will be a chronic victim of the stupid shoes, fear that life will deal with me or my loved one cruelly and that there will be a maiming that doesn’t allow healing. I accept that this points to a lack of faith, a poverty of spirit that fails to embrace and accept that the harsh taskmaster called life will touch us all in ways both wonderful and painful. But this realization does not help, and I am still afraid. I know of others that have a depth of faith allowing them to move through this world as though in a protective bubble and I realize that more than anything, I want to be like one of these guys!

I am not sure how one acquires great faith, for if faith is a gift (I was always taught that this is so), then I must ask, why did the Giver stint on my portion? This may be just another way of rationalizing why I am not to blame for my own shortcomings (another thing that I do regularly, and no doubt needs an exercise like this one to catalyze change). I was once advised by one possessed of what looked to be an abundance of faith (maybe the Giver accidentally gave them my portion!) that I should simply go through the motions, and faith would find me. But I am not a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of person. So here I am after all this introspection, acutely aware that I am cowardly and completely missing out on the gift of faith. Wow.

Well, at this point I think I have done quite enough self-examination and just need to celebrate my two small wins: I was able to make a dramatic change in my usual behavior at least once in my life, and I was able to complete my assignment on time. As for LaLa Land…I kind of miss it…now where did I put my glasses, and what the hell are those confounded car keys doing in the freezer!?

*The Road Less Traveled, Robert Frost