Always Something.
My granny used to say bad things come in threes. If the washing machine breaks down, you can pretty much count on the air conditioner going out. And when the air conditioner goes out, you better check on the spare tire in the trunk. A flat very well might be just around the bend. I don’t know that she or any of us ever believed it. All superstitions feel a little hokey to me. But it did seem to happen a lot. Looking back, I think the rule of three was more of an organizational tool used for coping than it was a rule of thumb. A way of putting brackets around things so we could feel like we were in the clear for a while. But the truth of the matter is things just go awry.
It's always something.
I wonder sometimes if the waves weren’t switched on by God on the night of the 6th, right before the day he rested. Like maybe he knew floating would only be fun for a bit, so he set the dial on “churn.” Choppy water does, in fact, make better sailors. Maybe he was trying to keep us on our toes.
I don’t know about you, but my calves have all kinds of muscles from walking around on point.
Retrieved from www.storemypic.com
The 19th century German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche came up with a phrase for how to best deal with it all, this constant undulation of life. His suggestion was to love it. Love it all. The good, the bad, the hiccups, the burps. Nietzsche proposed that we wrap our arms around the entire spectrum. “Amor fati” he wrote in Latin. Love your fate! It was his formula for human greatness. What a beautiful, noble, centered, wise way to live.
I’m certain it’s coincidental that well before the age of 60 he went mad.
Loving it all, while a brilliant and noble aspiration, is a reach test most of us fail to pass. Amor fati is not an easy thing to do. The concept is a pillar of stoicism, a mindset shift that is currently enjoying a renaissance in our country, but it reads a little easier than it lives. It’s a GREAT idea. And if you can do it, it’s a wildly advantageous way to travel through your days. But it can be a challenge. Especially when it comes to pesky things.
Like flies. And armadillos. And faulty sprinkler heads. And screws that strip. And spills that stain. And people who keep their eyes peeled for a chance to make a stink.
There’s always going to be something that can nudge you off your mark.
Retrieved from www.babylist.com
Laura Numeroff is a best-selling children’s author who has a whole series of books built on the “if then” concept of potential angst. It all started with a mouse who was given a cookie…who then asked for a glass of milk, who then asked for a straw, who then asked for a napkin, who then needed a mirror… who ultimately ends up thirsty, asks for a glass of milk, and wants a cookie to go with it. A series of “always somethings” that lead to messes that lead right back to something else.
The domino effect of inconveniences was so relatable that Numeroff penned multiple books about what might happen if you did other things for a mouse. Like take it to a movie or to school or give it a brownie. And that hit such a bullseye that the idea spilled over to a moose and a muffin, and a dog and a donut, and a pig and a pancake. It seems there just is no hard stop for messy stuff that happens—it’s an ever always going onward without an end in sight.
Pesky little things to trip on can pop up most anywhere.
For reasons that don’t seem to make much sense, we’re often able to wrestle the big bad stuff that happens into purpose. We can find the silver lining. We can make the mess our message as Robin Roberts has taught us to do. It’s the tiny little milk spills where we tend to slip and fall.
I have a friend who Is going through chemo. She returned home a few weeks ago after a weekend away just in time for a random early fall thunderstorm to uproot a giant tree from her front yard and sling it across the driveway and the street. She saw it and said, “Oh well. It’s always something.”
Yes, it is. Apparently, where you’re standing has much to do with how things look.
Sometimes the thing that comes down the pike is big and hairy, and it has to be stared down. But most of the time it’s just irksome. The ‘something’ is more like a hangnail or a piece of bacon that’s stuck between your teeth. Or a drawer handle that falls off about every third time you pull it. It’s just stuff you have to deal with that you hadn’t factored in.
The wrinkles, the rocks in the road, the things that require a deep breath before we tackle them, they’re at every turn. The sobering reality of most jobs and of life is not whether or not something’s lurking around the corner. It’s how you handle the somethings as they always come.