A mother is watching her two two children closely; there is one older child and a younger one in a stroller. The older child is holding a small plastic rectangle filled with water and a goldfish. Now the older one is admiring the goldfish, treading water in its cage which evidently fills the younger child with desire and frustration--jealousy perhaps because he starts to cry and beg to hold it and though the mother tries to persuade him to calm down, it seems useless. The younger child proceeds to get more and more worked up, crying and yelling, begging to hold the goldfish in his lap.
This goes on for a while, with the natural ebb and flow of conflict, however, the noise is unbearable and after a long struggle, finally (probably out of consideration for the other public transit riders) the mother gives in and instructs the older child to let the younger brother hold the fish. When the boy finally gets it in his hands, he smiled, which quickly and yet smoothly transitioned into a forced smile. There was an incredibly detailed facial expression that conveyed not only the inevitable look of disappointment, but also the added embarrassment for and masking of the disappointment itself.
Now what is the difference between looking at a fish three feet from oneself as opposed to in one's hands? Sure, one may be able to see the fish from above, or close-up. The child was not that interested in this, he evidently wanted to have the fish. And when the cold plastic settled itself into his lap, it was really obvious that it really wasn't the extraordinary experience that this boy thought it would be. He quickly realized there was no added satisfaction to be gained once the tank was in his hands. And boy, did he feel stupid.
We as adults may think we are beyond this nonsense, and some of us might be, but most of us aren't. We think we must have things to make us happy. We want to hold and touch and see the pretty people, places and things around us. We want to hold them in our laps. Don't we? It seems we have gotten so good at masking the disappointment that we have eliminated the embarrassment that follows.
Horseback riding looks amazing, and it is certainly fun, but sitting on a horse is much different than it looks. The glamour is gone. I was sitting on a patio at a restaurant somewhere between Bruge and Bruxelles, with my sister and a lover, eating mussels and watching a fabulous sunset over the ocean and we saw people riding horses on the beach, along the edge of the tide. I commented on how much fun it looked like and my friend Nader said, "Smells better than it tastes." That phrase really stuck with me. So true. He taught me so much with that simple sentence. I know what it is like to ride a horse. I know what its like to walk down a beach. Well, I put two and two together and really imagined what it would actually be like to be those people we saw ride by. Certainly it wouldn't feel as fabulous as it looks.
The same goes for touching and tasting too.. the mussels and the Belgian beer we were tasting, yes great but gone so quickly. Okay the mussels taste good, but how many can one eat until one is full? Then one has to wait for awhile until one eats again. It is okay to enjoy the mussels, but we shouldn't rely on them or expect them to make us happy. We should try to remain calm and think things through their logical progression before we get upset about not having something. When I try to think of the truly enjoyable, really fun experiences in life, they all involve connecting with others. Building relationships that enable sharing and raw feedback exchange. This is what counts. The other stuff is just a distraction from making those connections.
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