The Blind Leading The Blind
I’m worried about my car and this woman can’t even drive.
Not only can’t she drive, she can’t even see the front door at Starbucks.
A few minutes ago, I walked in to grab a coffee while she attempted to walk out.
Kazoo, her seeing-eye dog, went for a cookie crumb wedged in between the cushions of a comfy chair, and I grabbed her folding, old-lady-cart to help her navigate.
I stood outside with her for a few minutes as she confirmed with a van driver if his van was the one she was actually supposed to be on.
She was incredibly grateful for my helping hand.
But my God, I don’t know who was more grateful in the moment, me or her.
Eating, showering, walking back and forth to the auto mechanic, twice, and of course peeing a million times, allowed for my arrival at Starbucks at the perfect, precise moment.
Its lesson is everywhere.
The truth is, I don’t give a shit about the car. And I also don’t give a shit about not having one.
It’s going to cost a fortune to fix my dad’s old car, the one I’ve been driving while I’ve been back up in New York, and my mom was less than thrilled about hearing the news from me.
I was feeling bad that she was feeling bad and then boom: Kazoo and her mom.
I texted my mom to see if she caught the train on time and, since I assume liability for everything, I apologized for the stress of a new heartache.
She texted back, “I’m not stressed. It’s not a glioblastoma (kill shot brain tumor my dad had a three of). It’s only money. Nothing gets me that crazy anymore.”
I’m sure she felt like she was telling the truth, but nevertheless, it was a lie.
Everything still gets to her.
But it’s not her fault. Everything gets to everyone.
Even after all of the loss, and all of the suffering, we’re still tragic victims of the trivial.
We’re consumed with fear about the future and we waste the present worrying about an illusion we have infinitesimal control of.
If you’re now expecting a tirade about gratefulness, don’t worry, it ain’t coming.
Because that would just sound so awful: Worried about your car? Well, be grateful you’re not a blind woman struggling to get through a door.
That would make it seem like she has nothing to be grateful for. And then poor Kazoo would get so sad.
However, I will say this: We need to be more aware of where are minds are.
If there’s something to worry about, worry away like a champ. But just allow for a little.
Because it sure as shit isn’t going to alleviate anything.
So, go worry, catch yourself worrying, and then force yourself to point your attention to something beautiful. A tree, a smile, a breath, a memory etc etc.
In one form or another, even if it’s simply old age, that kill shot is coming. For all of us.
And the last thing we’re going to want to be filled with in those final moments is regret.
With that said, Kathy’s Song by Simon & Garfunkel is now playing in Starbucks. I’m going to end here because I can still hear my dad singing along with it in the car and I’m trying not to cry in front of everyone.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
“In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success