Tuesday, January 20, 2009

BITES OF BETTER

I work with Wonderful.

Last week I enjoyed a break from Sparks' indecisive weather and attended a 4-day meeting in sunny Irvine.

One night, after 12 hours of sales presentation role plays and about 25 too many hard candies taken from the bowl of sin placed in the middle of my table, I sat down to dinner with work folk. The conversation was pleasant. Cordial. Entertaining at times. Funny. Sometimes slow. And then, when my potatoes were a memory and my water glass awaited a top off, it was poignant.

And during one of those deeper dips, I had a momentary aside with myself . . .

Self, I said, you're lucky.

Life can be a bummer. It can be tough. It can be rife with misfortune and punctuated with the trite. It can be more that you feel you have the confidence to hack. It can give you a drop kick with a roundhouse chaser. And then do it again tomorrow. Life can be all those things all at once. And often. It can even be them every day. But just the same, you're lucky.

These people you work with: they're smart. They think past Right Now and Unimportant, gazing out at Later and Significant. And then they do you the favor of pointing it out. In a way that is subtle and makes you feel smart. And because, at times, there is grace in the world and goodness dropped throughout, these people you're paid to work with and learn from, they indicate Actually Important after a day that's been long and been hard. So that when you return to your hotel room, tired, with a head that's throbbing and a throng of things to review, you have a sliver of solace. Small, yes. A sliver, I said. But something. Something more than you had when you sat down at your salad.

And so you're lucky, Self. Right now. And even if you're going to forget so later, right now, you know you're fortunate.

2 comments:

Shelby Lou said...

i read. i ponder. good stuff.

Keli'i and Megan said...

I come home from my job covered in bugers and possibly ukus. I'd say I need a different profession, wouldn't you? Bookmobile driver MAY not be cutting it anymore. Especially do I NOT say, "Self, you're lucky." I think, "Self, man, get a life!"