The Gist of The Matter

We may not have met in person. We may not have shook hands – and if we ever do, I like a good firm, handshake. If we haven’t high-five'd, I like them just like that. High. No low fives and definitely no you’re-too-slow-fives that the youths of America jokingly initiate. 

However, we have met here before. Therefore, I think it’s a safe platform that I can bypass the weather and go straight into a heart-to-heart (or fist-bump to fist-bump if you prefer) discussion and delve into a not-so-secret secret. Ready?

I like to paint. I like to create beautiful imagery. Sometimes I use pens. Sometimes I use pencils. But in circumstances such as this, I depend on a keyboard and upon the connectivity between two screens.

You see, I like to paint pictures for people where the medium is words, not acrylics or watercolors.

But after pouring my attention, my spine and sometimes my water over the keyboard to develop every detail into bringing to life the pepperonis of a pizza shop, restoring the chipped paint of a dilapidated warehouse, or helping fill the cavity of a toddler’s on his first visit to the dentist, I need a break.

I need to lift my head slowly (so as to avoid whiplash), and for all those in with any physiological background, I do indeed crack my knuckles at this juncture.

When I come up to breathe from this self-induced, word-constricting comma, when I look up from my own Wonderland, I acknowledge April’s thunderstorms and the thunderclouds. I see the leafless trees, the muddy walkways, and I see the soggy grounds. Also, all of this has a major impact on my soles; the soles of my shoes. Subsequently this impacts my wallet.

Because I am a realist.

Here’s the gist of the matter:

Suppose I shove away from my desk on my wheeled chair when work ends and head out on a gray, stormy day.

Then, like an incompetent baker who can’t crack eggs, the clouds break open and the water sloshes on me. And what appears to be only me. Even though this isn’t really true. I am wet, but onward I walk.

Ahead a gentleman is getting in his car, shaking out his umbrella as he begins to collapse it and back into his sedan. (How does the general population accomplish that feat so elegantly? So inconspicuously?)

As I approach closer, he calls out, “Hey, I don’t need this anymore! I’m obviously heading out. You can have this-”

“Oh thanks, but I couldn’t. Are you sur-”

“…for 20 bucks. Even.”

“Oh, um, I only have $15 on me.”

“I’ll take it.”

Sold.

And that my friends is the gist of the matter.

• As a realist, I acknowledge that this person is taking advantage of an opportune moment. It’s very economically advantageous of him.

• An optimist individual might give him the benefit of the doubt thinking this person is attempting to make some much-needed money for his family, even pulling out the emergency $50 from his or her wallet.

• A pessimist doesn’t buy the umbrella because he or she assumes it doesn’t work. Actually, a pessimist may never have left the office because, “Chicken Little: The sky is falling!”

The gist of the matter is we’re going to encounter rainy days. (Quite literally, now that it is April!) The clouds will crack open from above us. There will be puddles. So eventually we will have to go through them.

It’s how we go through them that matters most.

The gist of the matter is we’re going to get muddy. It’s a fact. But even mud is good for our skin, right?

D Minus Makes All The Difference

There is a song I used to sing constantly. And rightly so because it was derived from a movie that I constantly watched. And why not when it featured Julie Andrews as a mountain climber, a child tamer and Catholic rebel rouser. (Unlike Whoopi Goldberg in the Sister Act who sought refuge amongst the nuns so none of her nemesis could find her.)

Yes, the beloved based on a true story, The Sound of Music!

I feel we are already off to a bad start. Three words into this blog and I mislead you. There is A song. Singular? All those von Trapp songs played a vital role in my childhood but one of those songs I remixed the other day. As the snow came tumbling down in the middle of March, I, in my off-tune, off-beat over zealous, extremely loud voice, belted out:

“I have confidence in winter. I have confidence in snow. I have confidence that spring will come again, besides what you see I have confidence it will flee!”

So maybe my parody isn’t YouTube’s #1 watched reaching millions in just minutes. Maybe it doesn’t even make sense. But it made me stop and realize that snow is summer’s precipitation at a much, much colder temperature.

And I have confidence that it will flee.

That it will flee, not that we will flee. We can’t speed it up. We can’t rush it. We can’t force it. Spring must come on its own. But we don’t have to stand still. Together we’re going to rediscover spring.

We’re going to D Minus life.

1) D-clutter: Spring has sprung. And when it comes to the homeowner, renter or anyone who is trying to dust off the stubborn remnants of winter off their shoulder, they spring clean. Purge. J.C. Penny’s latest slogan? If it fits, you feel it. The D Minus way of living? If it’s too tight, too loose, you don’t wear, the color is puce or the buttons are about to pop, D-clutter.

2) D-stress: Is it just me or did we all get plowed up together amidst the snow and salt of life and piled high in shopping center parking lots, packed tight by the boom of the plow, waiting for weeks of sun to melt us so we can loosen our joints and jog our merry way home? 

No?

Okay, but seriously, what happened to hibernating? We have been extremely blessed with opportunities to exercise our creativity and network with like-minded people and meet new individuals, and yet less time to get to know ourselves and our families. Did you know my nearly 6-year-old nephew can make brownies from scratch? Neither did I.

3) D-activate: It may seem numbing to be neutral for a while, to just enjoy the quiet of life, even if everything is loud around you, but it’s a most refreshing state of being. All those wise written words about the ability of hearing more when you’re quiet. Though it may take time to adjust and appreciate, it is true. It’s like Winston Churchill expounds, “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is what it also what it takes to sit down and listen.”

So it shows; the D Minus life is an act of courage. It’s a life of contentment. And ultimately it's a statement of confidence in knowing who you were, who you are and who you want to be one day.