As I get older, I become much more aware of who I am, the things that make me tick, and what regrets I must confess. At times I feel so grown and mature. Let me rephrase. At times I feel rather old. But other times, all I can see is a little girl in the mirror looking back at me behind the aging lines and the thinning hairline. And she is alive and fun and wanting to be carefree as she once was when there was so much to be carefree about. But then I'm reminded of the things that keep me accountable and disciplined. And I regress on my thoughts of adventure. You only live once, they say. So shouldn't I live responsibly? No regrets, they say. But I have plenty. Where do they go to be rid of them, while I'm over here storing them?
Things are not as black and white as we make them seem. There is a lot of gray, at least that's what I've seen. For every argument, there is a counter argument. For every opinion, there is a differing one. And for every decision, there is a consequence. And so how do I conspire to defend or deny the fact that I've not always made things right. And I've not always lived honestly. In fact, I have regrets.
I woke up to a train of thought that took me back to an experience in which I denied someone a simple request for chocolate chips. Okay, I realize I need to be more clear. I will do my best. It was a school overnight class trip on which I was getting all of the foods that we would need for breakfast the next morning. And as I checked off the items on the list I had so diligently made, one of my students asked if we could get chocolate chips to put on the pancakes. I quickly told him no. Chocolate chips were not on the list. He continued to hint that it would be great to have the chips on the pancakes, and that in fact, he could not eat pancakes without chocolate chips. I stuck to my list and denied him the request. The next morning we had pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon with bread. It was a very good breakfast. However, my one student did not eat much because being the picky eater that he was, he just wanted to have chocolate chip pancakes.
Why did I recollect this seemingly insignificant incident? Well, you see I regret not getting those chips. I truly regret not granting my student that small request. And I feel like such a "kill joy" when I think about the fact that "my list" was more important than a bag of $1.99 chips. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that the cost of the chips wouldn't have taken us too far off budget. And it could have made for a more pleasant time for my one student. Okay so what is the moral of the story?
Perspective. Priorities. Perm.
Yes, I realize I may now lose you forever. But if you can just hang in there just a bit longer, maybe all of this will begin to make sense. The moral of the story has to do with the fact that there is always a bigger picture, and if we aren't careful, we may be so focused on the small insignificant things that we miss the big ones. Like the grand feeling you get when someone thanks you for thinking of them and putting them first. There is an exchange between the abstract and the concrete that make for a beautiful chemistry when we look at mundane things as opportunities and relationships. When we begin to see that the little things are actually bigger and the big things may in turn be minute, that is when our perspective becomes clearer and fonder. The moral of the story is that I need to make more room for what matters to someone else, rather than myself. Putting someone else's concern, request, needs before my own should be at the top of my priorities. And as a result, I will experience joy. And lastly, the moral of the story is that I must work on relaxing my grip on the things of this world. I must learn to let go and allow for things to unfold as they should. Not because they are on my checklist of things to do, but because God has ordained them for me to embrace.
There is a current song by Bruno Mars called "Perm". And yes, it's got some edgy lyrics and a catchy tune. But I get what it says about putting "some perm on your attitude" and "you gotta relax". Man, if I can only get to that point in my life when I'm relaxed enough to enjoy every single experience I am gifted. Not just the big events, but the everyday minute to minute, step by step experience. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there. You see, I've met people and I've lost people. And they all, in some shape or form, have reminded me that life is short and it is worth living. They have reminded me to be softer and more lenient, and to, for heaven's sake, go for the chocolate chips! It's on my to do list.
