Garbage and Recyclables

Years ago, my mother bought my daughter this beauuuuuuutiful mirror.  It looked antique - one of those mirrors you see in old movies or at somebody's grandma's house.  It had an artfully-crafted wooden base that came up on two sides, with the oval-shaped mirror, framed in the same beautiful wood, securely fastened between them.  I've always thought it was the most beautiful, most classic piece in this entire house.  I loved it.

Over the weekend, my daughter and I did some spring cleaning.  Part of that process was a makeover of her room, which she felt she had outgrown.  She was 9 when we moved here so at 19 now, I completely understood.  We ordered a bunch of stuff last week including a mirror for her wall which mimics the very cheap and unremarkable one hanging over my closet door.  I'm sure I didn't pay more than $15 for it at Wal-Mart however long ago, but hers arrived slightly more expensive, heavier and a bit more upscale, though still no comparison to the mirror my mother bought her.  I hadn't even thought twice about it until I came into the kitchen the next day and saw the wooden mirror standing in the corner where we keep our garbage and recyclables.  I called out to my daughter and asked her if she really intended to throw it out.  She confirmed.  I stood there looking at the mirror for a few seconds like no, we can't just throw this away.

I picked the mirror up and walked it into the living room, looking around for somewhere to put it.  There was obviously nowhere to put this very classic work that made sense in my very contemporary living room.  So I picked the mirror up again and walked it back to my bedroom, trying to find a place for it.  Sadly, there wasn't one.  I looked over at the cheap mirror hanging over my door and the fact was, as basic as it is, it better suits my purposes.  I hadn't considered the size of the mirror - made for a child.  I couldn't get a head-to-floor reflection, so she obviously couldn't get one either.  Now it made sense.  "We could put it in the laundry room," my daughter suggests.  It was ridiculous, but she was trying to help.  I sat on my bed for a few minutes, just looking at the mirror and coming to terms with the fact that it had to go.  I made my peace and carried it back to the corner of the kitchen where we keep our garbage and recyclables.

For the rest of the weekend, I cooked with my music on in that kitchen, checking myself and dancing in that mirror that almost seemed to know its time was coming to an end.  I made a point to stop and look into it every time I passed it yesterday and for the final few times as I passed it today.  My work day coming to a close, I sighed at the sight of it from across the room.  Time to take out the garbage.  I found solace in the fact that it was a beautiful mirror, flawless in every aspect, and that we live in a neighborhood where people driving by will stop and pick up things at the curb that appear to still be useful.  I had hoped with all my heart that some passerby would stumble across it and snatch it up pretty quickly, but 2 hours later, it was still at the curb where every week, we put our garbage and recyclables.  

I was beginning to tire of peeking out of the window, checking, but I couldn't just leave it unattended.  What if some knucklehead group of kids came by and decided to throw rocks at it or something?  It wouldn't be any good to anyone.  So I watched over it anxiously, while also waiting for my Drizly order, which was an hour late (that's a liquor delivery service, for those who may be unaware).  I kept thinking to myself I knew I should have used my usual place.  That $6 I saved would have been worth spending to be able to have a drink in my hand right now.

Then suddenly this sweaty Hispanic guy, on his phone, strolls very slowly up to my front door.  I remembered him from the last time I chose to save $6 - Drizly.  Not wanting to appear overly eager, I sat in the window and waited for him to call.  

"It's Drizly, your delivery is here."

"Okay, thank you," I say, then head downstairs to meet him.

"Sorry for the delay, and thank you for the tip!  Have a nice night!" 

"No problem.  You too."  

I head back upstairs and return to my perch, only to find the delivery guy slowly walking from my door to the curb.  He lifted up the mirror and walked it down to the already-open trunk of his SUV before carefully placing it inside and then driving away.  I can't begin to describe how it felt to watch him handle it with such care.  I also can't begin to explain why it felt like he had literally just saved my live by saving our mirror from the garbage truck.  In that moment, he had been my stress turned relief.  My frustration turned peace.  

I didn't even know where I was going with this when I first sat down to write this.  I just knew I wanted to tell this story.  But in doing so, I think there is a deeper message to be gleaned and it's oddly SUPER relevant to my life right now:

Don't just wait, be patient.  No need to watch over what you've set in motion.  There's definitely no need to watch over what the universe has in store.  For my religious people, when you give it to God, let it go.  For my ambitious people, trust the process.  For those manifesting that love or that life you want, just believe that it is already done.  Whatever you put out there is on it's way, you just have to be patient and trust that it will happen.  Also, not every "bad" or aggravating or annoying situation is what it appears on the surface.  If you allow, those situations just might become blessings.  Stay grateful and keep a willing mentality and your garbage just may become recyclable.

Mea Culpa

Speaking of accountability.....

By sheer happenstance, I came across a series of emails yesterday that I had completely forgotten about.  They were nearly 10 years old (and one was from 2006) so no wonder there, but I truly delighted in the content.  The details are immaterial but those emails stuck with me all night.  How fitting that the sky opened up at some point and the storm, along with the darkness, set the perfect scene for a Black Jack night - what I affectionately call an evening of sipping Jack Daniel's, smoking a cigar and listening to music while reflecting on whatever is on my mind.

My thoughts went back to an apology I recently issued to the person on the other end of those emails, which was for a specific thing they didn't even feel I was wrong about.  Last night, I realized how wrong I actually had been throughout the course of our relationship.  I don't think I've ever told this person that I blamed them for certain circumstances that had me in my feelings for so long, but I 100% believed them to be at fault and I felt a whole WAY about it.  It almost ruined our friendship, I felt so strongly, but the bond between us was able to carry us through.  The conversations those emails brought back to me were proof that the blame was mine.  I tell you - perspective is a motherfucker.  

I think another apology is warranted, whether or not they think there's anything to apologize about (they likely don't).  It's important because my previous perception of reality colored how I viewed this person and they didn't deserve the energy I know that sometimes came with - even if they didn't notice.  I knew it was there.  And the biggest thing for me, notably much more self-aware than average, was the realization that even though I lent myself to the idea that maybe they hadn't done anything wrong, it didn't equate to me thinking the fault was MINE.  I considered the circumstances to be blameless; nobody's fault, it just was what it was.  To now understand that it was ME who was responsible for my disposition all that time was a real "wow" moment.  Talk about a chin check, that shit hit me like a ton of bricks!  

But I have no problem admitting when I'm wrong and I wholeheartedly believe in accountability, so apologize, I will.  I'm SO glad I came across those emails yesterday.  Not only did they provide an avenue for a change in perspective, they were also quite nice to read.  It was nice to remember conversations I had long forgotten and though they "slapped my hand," they also provided a great deal of validation in a way that is genuinely appreciated - especially at this particular time in my life.  So don't be afraid to face yourself, people.  Ownership is key in many more ways than one.

Accountability

Yeah, yeah - I've been busy.  Once again, if you're checking this thing every day and getting annoyed when you don't find anything new, simply subscribe and enable notifications.  I'm over here trying to get my life together, m'kay? 

Came across this today and just thought that I should share for those who are truly on a journey towards growth.  Many of the couch sessions I have with people revolve around these ideas.  I can't even say one is more prevalent than the others because they are ALL big and are all part of the same conversation.  Unfortunately, not enough people are honest enough with themselves to ask themselves these questions - any of them - and they often get defensive when you suggest that they may be their own problem. If you're truly looking to become a better person, you have to hold yourself accountable.  Before you get in your feelings about a situation, take a beat and try to understand the difference between what you feel and what's actually real.

Thank me later.