Lessons From The Deep End of The Pool
This is what my story looks like.My stomach tightens up, looks hard into its empty corners, finding nothing, then grumbles to me...When you gonna buy me lunch? This is a frequent conversation I've had with my stomach, usually while I'm video editing.
Come on, man. You promised me something to eat a half-hour ago. This is true. But I had gotten caught up in categorizing and labelling almost 200 video clips. When I focus on something, it's like I dive into a deep pool, rising up only to find that I've swam a great distance and am facing an unfamiliar landmark, disoriented and struggling to right myself. I told my stomach that I'd go to Trader Joes to get a burrito at 2:15. It is now 2:41, twenty-six minutes later. Big whoop, Mandel. I'm rounding up. Are you gonna get us something or what?
A red basket swings back and forth in my hand. The smell of fresh baked bread makes my stomach reel in delight. But I'm paying no mind to food. I'm people watching. Moms reaching to the back of the shelf for the freshest carton of milk. The guy at the cashier is tired as hell of his job and it's only Tuesday. One person steps just outside the door to light up. Another treks a large circumference to avoid the smoke. My stomach pipes up again. Tri-tip Burrito!
I see it, I see it. The thing sits high on the shelf as if it were royalty.
Can we get it? Can we?
It's almost 5 bucks.
Oh come on! You spend like 40 bucks to fillup on gas. You're not fooling anyone that you're thrifty.
I ponder this for a second. I'm imagining the taste of tri-tip and my tongue starts moaning. Dammit, not you too. No. I put my foot down. You're getting sushi. I reach for the plastic box, "$2.99 California Roll" emblazoned below. It's got Omega-3 and avocado in it and it's 2 bucks less than your burrito and I'm getting it, so suck it up!
Silence. The peanut gallery is quiet for once. I place the lunch item in the basket, purposely walking away as fast as I can. I am thinking about the girls at my work and how they liked the oatmeal cookies that I brought in last week. They dissapeared fast, so maybe I should restock. A man in his late 30's stands over the bell peppers, his eyes flicking back and forth from the reds, to the greens, to the yellows, back to the greens, back to the reds, back to the yellows, before giving up and heading towards the sandwich meats. "..." A small boy runs about the aisles, holding candy, looking for his mother. "..." Sigh...
What do you want? A low rumble creeps up from my gut. Do you think you could sneak us a bite right now?
Giving in, I peel off the seal. Eat a piece. Avoid the glances from shoppers. There. Are you satisfied? Are you happy now?? I don't hear any more voices. Just silence. And the sound of my teeth, content with the texture of cooked rice and cucumber.
Selfawareness is one of the hardest things a human being can obtain. When you're in the midst of things, when you're stuck in the middle, living as you think you should, it is so difficult to take a deep breath, step outside to look at yourself and then say, "Yes, your heart is in the right place."
I find myself from time to time asking myself "What do you want to do?" Lately, my answer has been "Be somewhere in 5 years." Five years? Why five years? Because I've learned that it will take me that long to understand that none of my plans will be fulfilled and that I must let myself be whatever it is I will be.
So I feel that I've been asking myself the wrong question, or at least one that solicits an answer that doesn't get to the point. Instead, I should ask myself "What do you need to be better than you were before?"
Better than you were before? Kid, you've got a long way to go. Give in and let yourself sink. You'll have gone far once you decide to come back up for air. Dive deep. Focus on what's important. Come back up better. This is what you must do. Focus.
I'm holding a tub of Crispy Chocolate Chip cookies in my hand. I can't tell for sure, but I think I've got one eyebrow raised. I'm not reading the nutritional facts. Or even thinking about the low rumble in my gut. Why do I always do this? Who am I really buying cookies for? If those girls were guys, would I act the same way?
I've got a few bad habits to purge and a few good habits to try out. It's a long road to becoming better than I was before, but at least I've got a few ideas on what to do. I need to think about learning a new language. Organizing myself once and for all. Picking up the guitar. Writing my next movie. Build a routine of exercise in the morning. A laundry list of wishes and hopes, all of which are not obtainable overnight. But at least I have goals. So to start, I'm going to stay focused. And stop worrying so damn much, especially about girls. Just set your sights on what you want. Get it. And everything else inconsequential will fall into place.
The cookies go in the basket next to the sushi and I stride towards the cashier. The man at the cashier doesn't care. Doesn't smile or say hello. I pay and wish him a pleasant day. The growl grows louder as I head out into the Trader Joe's parking lot. I pass by the local homeless guy, begging for change. A kid smoothes his hands over the rough skin of the oversized pumpkin display. Sitting in my car, I make short work of the sushi and put the empty container in the seat beside me.
Hey. You feeling better? There's no reply. My stomach is too probably wrapped up in euphoria to respond. I crack open the windows, lean backwards, close my eyes, focus on the sound of the passing cars...
Then, dive into the deep end of the pool.
Reach as far as you can. And touch the bottom.
When you come up for air, you'll be exactly where you ought to be.