For better or for worse, there’s this thing I do. I think I’ve done it my entire life, even when I was quite small. I see a thing that is coming up in the future. And inevitably it is really coming up. But I see it well before I am ready to tackle it. Oh, but I try anyway. I think I started in this way of being probably around the age of five and here I am in my mid-forties and I’m only just starting to learn a truth about the way it works for me:
I see what is coming well before I am in any sense ready to tackle it. I am armed for my task with a plastic disposable spoon – and just one – and the wall before me isn’t made of jello yet, or better yet mist. The wall is still made of granite and hasn’t even yet softened to brick.
– Sarey, always
And behold, by inevitable tendency to throw myself wholeheartedly at a brick wall with only a plastic spoon to help me get through it. (And see, by the time I actually throw myself at it, it’s already downgraded from granite to brick! Progress! And alas, not quite enough progress.)
And if I can wait (oh, I suck at waiting) and do my own work to prepare myself, the wall will shift from brick to jello, for which the appropriate tool is actually a plastic disposable spoon. Still, a wall of jello and one small spoon is a significant amount of work.
But wait! (Again, me and waiting, not so good.) If I keep doing all my work to heal and prepare and sort myself out, the jello wall turns to mist… and then I can just walk through it. And so far, this metaphor adequately describes very nearly every part of my life, from the really big ticket items to the rather small issues.
Last week I came across a fabulous quote from an ancient Roman writer, Publilius Syrus and I’m making it the subject of my newsletter reflection this week, and it’s just brilliant. “There is no fruit that is not bitter before it is ripe.”
Preach it, Publilius.