“I know you told me not to eat the lasagna you made specifically for the night your parents come to visit.
I know they have never been at our house, they had to overcome health issues, the car was iffy and we have not always seen eye to eye.
I know this meant the world to you. That you could not wait for them to sleep over after our family dinner and movie night. Have breakfast with us the next morning and take a walk with our new puppy, Snuggles.
I know that this lasgna recipe was your mom’s, your mom’s mom’s and your mom’s mom’s, mom’s.
Giving a tip implies that I know what works. That my friends would be a very broad assumption on my part. Even dropping it down a few notches to “I know what works for me” is definitely a stretch.
But I can share one decision that has proven to be life changing for me. A common theme on this site of late when I seek to connect with each of you, whether prompt or “just because” driven.
Remaining present.
The past has served its purpose. And as the word suggests, it happened, it is over, and unless I somehow become H.G. Wells, and have that machine, there is no going back. Sapping my emotional, mental, physical and spiritual energy by focusing exclusively in that direction brings nothing but remorse, regret and isolation to me.
Thinking I am in control of what has yet to occur is another splendid avenue towards the same personally driven, intentional, downward spiral. I may think I have put every piece together that will eventually lead to that highly vaunted place, but things change. Others change. I change. An hour gone by has the potential to turn everything inside out.
And I am still not H.G.
So it is simply best for me to just remain right here.
Supplied with the wisdom earned from the past and the faith I am embracing that it will all work out, I can just be. Things can get hairy, or seem that way. But as a friend shared, “give it an hour and see where it has taken you.”
If that first one wasn’t enough, I give it sixty more minutes. Maybe another. I don’t try to convince myself that this is gonna be just like that time twenty years ago and slap my forehead because I should have seen it coming.
I just try my absolute best to remain.
Right here.
And be.
Talk about serenity wrapped up in the comforter of genuine peace.
Perhaps this is more a generational thing than it is a basic skill.
It was something I learned to rely upon through out my career and became my go to when I just need to connect with another. Whether on the clock or off.
That “skill”?
Just talking on the phone.
And then?
This one is really scary.
Doing that in person.
A COLD CALL.
I recall when I first started on the road, coins or a credit card number and finding a payphone came into play big time. That was the only way you could advise them you were early, late, needed to reschedule or just plain lost.
If you couldn’t connect? Cold call. Just stop in and talk to the first person you see, Ask them for their help.
Despite the sounds of that, you actually got to know another person that way. Recognizing not only their voice when they picked up, but tone, demeanor and personality. You got the opportunity to get to know the man or woman talking on the phone with you. Even if it went to voicemail, those unwritten rules of engagement assured a call back. Or a chance to at least play tag.
Cold calls are even better.
You get to actually look someone – anyone – in the face and start a conversation. Try your best to put them at ease and open up. Describe the help you seek and who might be best suited to do so. Smile. Crack wise. Just be you.
These days, it literally throws people off if you call. Worse yet? Stop in unannounced.
An email or text merely serves to deflect any true interaction. How ’bout letting Al craft emails because time is so preciously dire or tack on some inane emoji to create the impression of currency and leading edge? Either will make the opportunity for honest and lasting communication ever less likely.
Want to follow up on something?
Try and schedule an appointment?
Need some information?
Ask a pressing question?
Refer someone to another?
Seek some help?
Send it Gmail so you can just wait. Better yet, tap it out on your phone so you can fixate on your palm for the next 24 hours.
Long story short, I have struggled to fully know the man I am, pretty much all the way through. Unsure of certain trait’s existence and their potential impact. Chose to create one or a few from scratch to fill in gaps. Allowed definition to be identified and implemented by others. Bankruptcy declared when it came to assessing my own self-worth.
At times, it felt like I was off in the background, looking over the shoulder of this guy named Mark going about life. Those close to me too must have sensed that, asking on more than one occasion if I really knew that guy. The character I had become, perhaps. The actor? Nope.
At last, I can say the fiction is in the process of being replaced. With the non variety. But I said I would keep the long story short.
...my temporary assignment. 