GREEN BEER AND NEUTRALITY

Everyone’s Irish on St. Patrick’s Day! At least, that’s what celebrants wearing green party hats tell you, as they’re swilling green beer and slurping down corned beef and cabbage.

Like many other celebrations that had religious origins, St. Patrick’s Day has become another reason to have a party. I’m certainly not against parties. Having parties is wonderful! Parties bring people together for cheerful events.

Socializing in a carefree way creates bonds between people based on having fun. Those bonds strengthen friendships. Strong friendships are important when events arise which are not cheerful; like being consoled after contracting a serious illness or at funerals when you’ve lost a loved one.

We all wish life could be just one big, carefree party. But the reality is that it’s not. Most of life is spent pretty much emotionally neutral. Oh sure, we can work on maintaining a positive attitude and be grateful for all our blessings. But really, how much fun is it brushing our teeth or raking leaves?

We enjoy many fun events and suffer through things we don’t like. But the bridge connecting them is generally emotionally neutral. Moreover, the neutral times take up the bulk of most days. Learning to coexist with that neutrality is crucial to appreciating our lives.

What does it mean when we apply the term “neutral” to countries during wartime? In that context we’re referencing countries who do not take sides in the conflict. They remain “at peace” while other countries engage in the miseries and devastation of war. So, “neutral” is associated with “peace,” not “conflict.”

The same idea applies to our lives. During those emotionally neutral times, we’re at peace. Being at peace is good. It may not be as much fun as when we’re overcome with joy, but it feels better than experiencing the pain of despair.

Joyfulness brings exhilaration. Despair brings misery. They are at opposite ends of the same spectrum. Therefore, they both create anxiety. And anxiety is unsettling. Even though the anxiousness of exhilaration is pleasurable, while the anxiety of misery is unpleasant, they both leave us feeling emotionally drained.

Both are tiring. After exhilaration, we sleep due to exhaustion. After misery, we also sleep due to exhaustion. So, both require time for our minds and bodies to recover from their effects.

On the other hand, neutrality requires no recovery time. When feeling neutral, we’re poised to jettison into exhilaration or suffer through the trauma of misery. Can you imagine how unwieldy life would be if we just bounced up and down from joy to despair, like a yoyo? We’d burn out in just a short time.

Being emotionally neutral affords us the opportunity to place the events of our lives into perspective. It gives us the gift of time. Over time we understand the difference between pleasure and pain. This provides us a platform for growth. We learn to maximize pleasure and develop strategies to minimize pain. That moves us forward in our pursuit to master this thing we call life.

Times of emotional neutrality allow us to recognize the fullness of our lives. That is something to be grateful for.

So, excuse me while I don my green party hat and eat some corned beef and cabbage. Happy St. Paddy’s Day!!

STATISTICALLY SIGNIFICANT

Odds are you’ve never attended a statistics convention. They’re a hoot! We have scads of fun doing all kinds of crazy things. We bob for x-bars, play pin the hat on the sigma, and it’s side splitting fun to play “Name That Symbol.” I laugh so hard that punch sometimes dribbles out of my nose.

I really love when we come up with new slogans for bumper stickers. My favorite is, “Statisticians do it with variation.” It sure beats its predecessor, “Statisticians are mean lovers.” We all thought that was pretty clever until we remembered “mean” means “average.” That sure emptied the lead from our pencils!

But it got me thinking. Why do we seem to regard the average as something distasteful?

It certainly is our yard stick when we measure a shift. But, there’s nothing inherently bad about the average. In a Normal Distribution, the average simply means half fall above it and half are below. It doesn’t denote anything “bad.” Yet we discriminate against the average as if it means “mediocrity.”

I’ve seen it all throughout my professional career. Our average rate of manufacturing is X and we push ourselves relentlessly to make it more. Our average part size is Y and we look the other way when a few are too large or too small. We’re happy as long as our average part lands right smack dab in the middle of the specification limits. But, we don’t sell “average” parts, we sell real parts.

It’s the same in our personal lives, too. We don’t want the average house. We desire a palace! We can’t be lumped together with all the other commoners. We are royalty!

Well, while you’re off masquerading as royalty, all the rest of us commoners are picking up your slack. It’s the toil of our effort that holds the whole system together so we can continue coexisting.

Of course we all enjoy our individual talents, and some of them are more developed than someone else’s, but looking at the totality of ourselves, we’re no better nor worse than anyone else. We all excel in many ways and we all fall below the mark in other ways, but on average we’re all the same.

Maybe you sing better than me. But maybe I draw better than you. She might add a column of numbers faster than him, but maybe he fixes her car when it won’t start on a cold winter’s morning. The President of the United States can order a battalion into combat to save the free world, but without the seamstress to sow their uniforms, they’ll do it naked. That puts a new twist on hand-to-hand combat!

The average provides stability for our society. It’s the core from which we venture forth.

Now, if as a whole, we all make a leap one way or the other, the average simply recalculates. That’s called “change.” Change is a natural part of our earthly existence. Usually that change leads us full speed ahead, but sometimes we get caught in backsliding. It’s the average that helps us determine our progress, one way or the other.

Embrace the average. Accept it exists. Don’t go to superhuman efforts racing away from it. That only makes you an outlier who gets dismissed as a freak. Rather, work within the parameters defining the average to pull the entire distribution toward greater value.

Oh pardon me, it’s my turn to bob for x-bars. Why don’t you get some more punch? On average it’s pretty tasty.

AM I THAT BAD?

“Am I that bad,” she asks, imploring him to placate her self-consciousness by plying her with platitudes.

“Yes. Yes, you are,” he replies, causing her eyelids to roll up like window shades snapping open with a jerk.

He adds, “You’re inconsistent. When feeling threatened, you put yourself ahead of everyone else. You say things hurtful things that tear, leaving wounds which sometime heal slowly, and at other times fester with infection. You are that bad.”

Pained by his words and too shocked to respond, she stands there gaping at him.

He continues, “Just like me and everyone else on the planet, you are human. Of course you have your dark side. But, you’re also compassionate. You share your care and concern in ways that soothe my troubled spirit. You shine your light when I’m lost and stumbling in the blackness of despair. You give me hope when I fear all hope has abandoned me.

“You are human and I accept your humanity. All of it. I bask in the warmth of your glow when you sparkle. I fill with joy when your kindness overwhelms me. So, I can certainly tolerate your coldness when you’re chilled to the marrow with your own gripping fears.

“Moreover, I can appreciate the vulnerability you show when you feel down and out, even if that vulnerability leads you to attack me as a means of protecting your bruised and misguided ego. Though your ego’s razor sharp talons slice through the thin skin surrounding my fragile emotions, I cherish the gift of you revealing your vulnerability to me. It is living proof that you trust me deeply enough to bare your naked self to my fully opened eyes. I don’t like being hurt, but I accept pain is as much a part of life as is pleasure.

“Life is often made up of nine parts pain and one part love. That would be horrific if pain and love followed a linear pattern. If it were a one-to-one relationship the rise over run slope would dictate one unit of love for every unit of pain. Hence, a nine to one ratio would leave me broken and wallowing in a deficit mode.

“But love and pain are not linear. One ounce of love outweighs a whole barrel of pain. On those days when I relentlessly spew my venomous anger upon you, doesn’t one comforting hand upon your arm, a single moment of holding you tight, one softened glance dissolve all the pain I inflicted during that day?”

With tears in her eyes she nods.

“We’re all human and subject to the full gamut of emotions that rule our ignorance. I forgive you for being human and unleashing your pent up leviathan of fear upon me. Please forgive me for doing the same to you. Let us leave behind the barbs of selfish expectations that terrorize our souls and concentrate instead on the soothing salve by which love heals.

“So, yes, you are that bad. But, I am that bad, too. As we grow, we learn to release the negativity of our dark emotions and embrace the positivity of love. Our fear of the unknown decreases and we increasingly shower one another with compassion.”

WIN, PLACE, OR SHOW

I’m delusional. I see things that aren’t there.

When Einstein saw things that weren’t there, they called it “genius.” When da Vinci saw things that weren’t there, they called him a “Renaissance Man.” When Dali saw things that weren’t there, they called it “art.” When I see things that aren’t there, I’m called “delusional.”

I went to the racetrack with some friends. Other than the horses sit in a gate then take off when the gates open, I knew little more about racing. Of course, I wasn’t totally oblivious. I did know wagers were taken on which horse finished first, second, and third; or win, place, and show in racing terminology.

I’m not big on gambling, but I thought it might be an entertaining evening. Being a statistician, I understand probability too much to believe I can strike it rich through gambling. So, my view on gambling is it’s just another form of entertainment. Besides, it involved dinner in the clubhouse.

The hostess showed us to our table. We had a grand view of the finish line. After ordering our meals, we set ourselves to the task of picking horses to bet on. My friends had done this a few times before. They knew a thing or two about the process. They had the lingo down pat. They browsed handicap sheets, looking at the horses past performances, assessing odds, and debating about how this information translated into today’s racing prospects.

The whole time they did this, I pulled a sheet of paper from my pocket notebook (all good writers carry one, you know), and tore it into little strips. I wrote a number on each strip of paper, denoting the numbers on the horses. Then I poured the packets out of the sugar bowl on the table, folded the strips of paper, and dropped them into the empty bowl. Before the first race, I drew three numbers. These were the numbers of the horses I bet on.

My friends scoffed at my ridiculous strategy. They continued to peruse the handicap sheet and debate the odds, before settling on their “learned” choices.

We went to the window and placed our bets. Of the three horses each of them picked, none even placed. One of my horses came in second. Seething with envy, they buried their noses deeper in the handicap sheets, determined not to let this happen again. I went to collect the fifteen dollars I won on my two dollar bet.

This scenario of picking numbers from the sugar bowl continued for all the races, while they used their advanced “horse sense.” They lost on every race. I won on three more races. I tallied $107 in winnings, $30 dollars in bets, and dinner cost me $55. Hence, I netted $22, plus I enjoyed an evening of “entertainment.”

Was it dumb luck based on a random selection of numbers? Maybe. Then again, perhaps “random” is simply a catch-all term to describe a phenomenon we can’t define scientifically. But I know there are influences present which can be tapped into. Are these influences seen but not there? Or are they there but unseen?

I may be delusional, but I was the only at our table who walked away with money.

BEST MOMENT

This is the best moment of my life!

I feel loved, cherished, respected, appreciated, and accepted. By people? Yes. But also by the intangible consciousness that pervades everything.

That feeling permeates my entire being. Forget the hokey pokey; this is what it’s all about. Everything else is just circumstance; my job, house, car, cooking dinner, preparing my taxes, aspirations for glory, desires for recognition. All these, and more, are just circumstance. And I have everything I need at my disposal to deal with circumstances.

Whether creation occurred due to divine intervention or the random coalescing of different gases sparked by an energy source, all I need to successfully satisfy those circumstances lays within my reach. All tools needed have been bountifully provided.

I just have to figure out which tools to use on each circumstance. For that, I have the tool of intelligence. Along with some other tools, like perseverance, patience, language, physical dexterity, money, an automobile, computers, food, etc., I can busy myself in tasks and transform any circumstance into a manageable plan.

I may not always like the plan. At times it may cause me pain, heartache, and grief along the way. But those things are only fuel that burns the fire of satisfaction, which blazes when I cross those circumstances off my “to do” list, one by one.

Circumstances are a natural part of the physical world. They exist to give us tangible projects to work on, helping us to see the importance of developing purpose. These niggling little physical matters which must be tended to, lead us to seeing our greater purpose in a realm that’s not tangible. Some call it spiritual. A calling. Others call it destiny.

Gandhi had a calling. Martin Luther King had a calling. They delivered that calling in a physical way from spiritual roots. They utilized the tools at their disposal to satisfy the circumstance of their greater purpose. They led humankind away from hatred toward peaceful coexistence.

George Washington Carver and Thomas Edison exerted destiny. Their greater purpose manifested into practical inventions which raised our standard of living. They were not spiritual, per se, but these inventions allowed us greater opportunity to discover our own purpose by easing the hardships we endure in day to day life.

How did they do it? Certainly they had the love and support of significant people. We are social creatures with deep social needs. None of us are completely self-sufficient, self-sustaining entities, completely reliant only upon ourselves. At no time is that truth plainer than in infancy. Without the support of a caregiver, we would perish as babies. As we grow, we develop egos which become a façade. We believe ourselves to be autonomous. But the truth is we are all as needy as when we were babies. We just hide our needs in clever ways to fool ourselves into thinking we are independent, but we’re not. We have dependency and we do exert independence, but ultimately we’re interdependent.

So Gandhi, King, Carver, and Edison had a human support system, but they also had something more. They felt an attunement to a power greater than themselves. They gave themselves over to it. Feeling it course through their veins and fire their muscles into action. They tapped into the unseen force which is responsible for the existence of life itself. They strung together moment after moment of this attunement, to reach beyond themselves for solutions to circumstances. That same power is available in every moment to each of us.

This is the best moment of my life!

MORE ROCK LOGIC – LIMITS

Hi. It’s me again — the rock. The one who lives off the path at the park. Remember me? I spoke to you before.

The weather’s starting to break. More humans are coming back to the park. It’s like a sign of spring. I heard through the rock-vine there’s another place called Capistrano where swallows return that signifies the start of spring. Personally, I’d rather have humans. Swallows leave a lot droppings that we rocks can’t avoid.

Each spring, there’s a flurry of people I haven’t seen for awhile. They come back in droves on sunny days when the temperature gets pretty high. They usually talk about how they were shut in all winter and they’re glad they can get out again.

I’m not really sure why they couldn’t get out. I thought those leg-things worked in any temperature. And since people wear clothes, why can’t they put warmer ones on? Humans put a lot of self-imposed limits on themselves.

Speaking of limits, I heard one guy complaining about how he can’t dance and all his girlfriend wants him to do is take her dancing. He went on and on about how he buys her flowers, takes her out for expensive dinners, spends good money on tractor pull tickets, but what she keeps harping on is going dancing and he just doesn’t dance. He said he can throw a football a hundred yards. He can zip into a parking space at Walmart® before other people rush in to get it. He can field dress an eight point buck in under 20 minutes. But he can’t dance to save his soul. I’m thinking if he’s as talented as all that, why’s dancing such a problem?

I’m no expert, but I saw someone dancing at the park here once. She had those speaker-things stuck in her ears, plugged into a little electronic box clipped to her shorts. I know she was dancing because I heard an older couple comment on how rude it was to dance like in public that when they were trying to walk. Anyway, she was bobbing in spasms, the way I’ve seen people do after getting stung by a bee. So, how hard can it be to dance? All that guy needs is to poke himself in the butt with a pin and I bet he’d get the same results. That way his girlfriend would be happy. He’d be happy. And he wouldn’t be limited by his belief that he can’t dance.

A couple days later it must have been his girlfriend who came walking. I think it was her because she lamented about how this guy she started seeing is really great, buying her flowers and taking her to nice restaurants, but he just won’t take her dancing. She told her friend this guy said he can’t dance. Well, instead of living with that limit, why doesn’t she just show him? I bet he didn’t know how to field dress an eight point buck at birth. Someone showed him. If he can learn that, she could show him how to dance.

I just don’t understand you humans. If I had those leg-things, I’d dance. But as it is now, I’m can only rock and roll.

Well, we’ll talk again. Ciao for now.

TALENTS

Two friends, Giles and Miles, both possessed the talents of charm, quick wits, and persuasiveness. They met in school. Giles talked his way out of situations that other classmates caught the blame for. Miles rode on the coattails of Giles and escaped many punishments. However, the suffering endured by those taking the fall made Miles uncomfortable, while Giles simply felt relief.

Giles and Miles enjoyed many adventures in high school. They capitalized on their talents, gaining “star status” by winning leading roles in plays. This made them popular with the girls. Giles used his influence to “play the field.” He had a different girl on his arm almost nightly, casting aside one as a new fancy caught his eye. Miles had girlfriends too, but did not enjoy the pain inflicted by rejecting girls he found no deep compatibility with. He broke up with girlfriends, but not at the expense of their self-esteem.

Both went to college and then became successful salesmen. Giles enjoyed quick success, bringing in several new accounts. However, when he couldn’t consistently deliver the pricing and service he’d originally offered, the turnover rate of his accounts was also high. He fretted about losing sales, but with more and more effort, he fast-talked his way into making new first time sales to back-fill the ones he lost.

Miles slowly built up a loyal customer base. He got his foot into many doors using his charm, but then built up lasting relationships by offering promises he could keep. When he needed extra sales to make his quota, he relied on the integrity established with his customers. Their appreciation of his trusted service prompted them to order more than was really needed. He didn’t get the glitz of setting new sales records every month, but neither were the swings in his sales figures as wild as those of Giles.

Both married beautiful, well educated women. Miles worked hard in meeting the emotional needs of his wife. He also communicated in non-threatening ways to her the things he needed to feel secure in their marriage. Though he found he could easily talk her into seeing his point of view, there were many times when his suggestions failed to culminate in satisfying outcomes. Moreover, he realized several suggestions she made resulted in fulfilling experiences. They learned together that by pooling their ideas, the synergy of compromise led to joy beyond either of their expectations. They built a solid foundation of sharing upon which their marriage blossomed.

Giles put only enough into his marriage to keep it afloat. When it required effort, he performed herculean acts. When he could slide by using only flattery and deception, he did so. He had many affairs. His guile and cunning allowed him the edge to keep his wife from discovering his trysts, but the emotional void it left distanced them. Neither felt supported. Neither felt the joy inherent in togetherness. Essentially they lived separate lives bound together only by their domicile.

Miles and his wife were the proud parents of three children. Like all kids, they had their trials and tribulations. All became professionals with families of their own, giving Miles and his wife several grandchildren to dote over. Which they did, going to birthday parties, school concerts, sporting events; always showering them with love and affection.

Giles also had three children. When all three were teenagers, Giles and his wife divorced. Giles rarely exercised his visitation rights. None of the children had anything to do with Giles as they got older, except to borrow money they never repaid.

Miles died surrounded by family. Scores of friends, business associates, and an extended grieving family attended his funeral.

Only Giles’ current girlfriend attended his funeral. She came looking for the name of his lawyer to see if he left her anything in his will.

DOORMAN

On my way to the water cooler this morning, I turned into a doorman.

As I walked from the office area into the factory, where the water cooler is located, two ladies wanted to come through the door. They were pushing flatbed hand-trucks loaded with boxes. What an opportune time for me to be there. I pressed up against the wall and held the door open as wide as possible to allow them unimpeded room.

The lady with the first hand-truck rolled through, but ran into some logistical problems turning the corner. It took her a few tries of backing up, turning, pushing, backing up, turning more, and pushing, to clear the corner.

I waited patiently, holding the door as the lady with the second hand-truck queued up to roll through next. Unfortunately, the boxes on her cart stuck out over the edge a little too far. Though she tried maneuvering and re-maneuvering, the truck just would not go through. I still waited patiently.

Showing discomfort, as if her dilemma was inconveniencing me, she told me I didn’t need to continue holding the door. She’d manage. I assured her it was no inconvenience and that she’d probably need both hands anyway. I continued holding the door. Relief showed in her smile.

Being on the other side of the door, the lady who pushed the first hand-truck had a better perspective of the situation. She saw exactly what the problem was. One of the boxes was caught on the handle of the door. She removed that box. The other lady pushed the cart a foot or so through, but then another box caught on the handle. The first lady removed that box, releasing another foot of progress. She removed one more box. Then the cart, now with its load less wide, rolled through freely as the other lady pushed.

These two ladies worked in tandem to resolve the issue. It took no effort on my part, except for a little patience. I stood out of their way, simply holding the door, allowing them open access to utilize their skills in overcoming the obstacle.

By this time, there was a backup of other people waiting for the bottleneck to clear. Despite their insistence I’d already done my duty, I held the door for them too. Sometimes people feel uncomfortable accepting a simple kindness. But, I was already holding the door, so waiting a few moments more for them to pass was no trouble whatsoever.

There were the usual nervous jokes of them pretending to offer me a tip for being their doorman. I smiled graciously, pretending to accept their tip. I suppose that satisfied their need for parity.

I like holding doors open. I’ve had a lot of experience at it. Holding doors open for others brings much more satisfaction than slamming them shut.

It only takes a little patience to hold a door open to another human being, and the reward is truly satisfying. I recommend everyone become a doorman.

SERENITY

The nicer I treat some people, the colder they are. But then, if I act cool toward them, they warm up. What’s up with that?

Perhaps you’ve noticed the same thing. Is it a game? Is it retribution? Is it just human nature?

Maybe the source of this behavior runs much deeper than a simple stimulus-response mechanism, like blinking when you see something coming toward your eyes. Perhaps it goes back to those two polar opposites — love and fear. I’ve heard it explained the only thing that exists is love. Fear is the absence of love.

This concept is at the core of the book, “A Course In Miracles.” In his book, “Love Is Letting Go Of Fear,” Gerald Jampolsky also explains this.

Perhaps that “push-pull” pattern is simply this “fear is the absence of love” principle in action.

People are free to choose any course of action they wish. Quite often the course chosen is determined by past experience. If a person’s experiences are mostly loving, then that becomes the basis for their actions. If their experiences have mostly been steeped in fear, or if they’ve experienced some colossal fear traumatizing them deeply, then that becomes the basis for their actions going forward.

A person coming from a basis of love will embrace kindness offered. However, a person coming from fear will be suspicious.

The person coming from love understands that paying it forward ensures an ample supply circulating freely among everyone. The person coming from fear hoards love, afraid it’s a rare commodity.

Fearful people stash love in a satchel and clasp it shut. They’re so terrified of squandering love, that they won’t even release any back to the person who offered it in the first place. The heinous truth is the satchel has a hole in it. They’re left just as depleted as if they’d never received love.

Fearful people do appreciate receiving love and kindness, but they are frightened. Their nature makes it impossible to express their gratitude in harmonious ways. This disconnect creates tension felt by both parties.

So, what’s a person to do?

Withholding kindness feels justified, but it only reinforces that fear in the other person, causing a steeper slide downward. Plus it runs the risk of disillusionment on the part of the first person. He or she may slip from a space of love into one of cynicism, adopting fear as a new basis. No matter how strong our resolve is regarding anything, adding new experiences into the pool can tip the balance as we continue forward on our journeys through life.

On the other hand, continuing to give love may help soften the other person’s fears; leading him or her to realize love is something to both accept and offer freely. It might tip the balance for that person. However, we cannot accept responsibility for another person’s choices.

So, again, what’s a person to do?

We can only take responsibility for our own actions. Offering love is truly the harmonious way to live. However, we must also offer ourselves love. We must take care to maintain the fragile balance within ourselves. We have to look at each interaction with another person on a case by case basis. We interact, assess, and use our judgment.

If there are indications the fearful person truly wishes to approach life from a different perspective, then continue offering love. If that person shows through actions the fear is too overpowering to overcome, than withdrawing love and using it to maintain your own harmony is acceptable.

Whether a person is religious or not, the Serenity Prayer is a great philosophy to follow. I interpret Reinhold Niebuhr’s prayer in this way:

I seek the serenity to accept what I cannot control;

The courage to change things within my power to influence;

And the wisdom to know the difference.

EMOTIONAL EXERCISE 4

I’m building a house of cards.

It’s pretty easy. Two cards get teepee’d together on a slant. They’re fortified on both open sides of the teepee by two more cards. Then place one across the top, balancing on the teepee, with two at each end propping it up. More of these base units sprout up around the first, with additional cards spread across their tops; connecting them all, like a ceiling.

Carefully I begin this process again to construct a second floor. If I’ve laid a strong enough foundation and proceed with a steady hand, I can add a third and maybe even a fourth floor. Continuing until I use all the cards in the deck.

Of course, I could run into problems. Being held together only by gravity and tension, the house is very fragile. Bumping the table or a forceful puff of breath as I’m working could bring the whole thing crashing down, in whole or in part.

If I don’t lose my enthusiasm to frustration, I could begin again. Maybe I’ll even resume with renewed resolve; refueling my optimism. Of course, I could also just give up, sitting in misery and lamenting, “Woe is me.”

Building a house of cards is lot like living with emotions.

Emotions are composed of thin, bendable pieces. They’re propped against each other, corner to corner, hinging on only tension. A fragile cohesiveness holds them together. A slight wind of fear can make them quiver. Some could dislodge and fall. A strong wind blows them all apart and they crash, leaving us exposed, vulnerable, and in despair.

Once we’ve steadied ourselves from the shock, generally we rebuild, though sometimes we just let despondency overtake us. We sit dejected; staring at the shambles left by the quake. We might cry to relieve the frustration (as described in the Cry, Cry Baby post), unable to respond immediately.

Rest helps. Sleep works wonders, though too much sleep can cause its own problems (as pointed out in my post Too Sleepy). But after some recovery time, we start to rebuild.

Like rebuilding a house of cards, we don’t start over from scratch, though. When the wind knocks down our house of card, they may all lay there flat on the table, but we’ve gained something too. We’ve gained experience.

We remember how to stack the cards in forming our base unit. We may even have discovered ways to fortify them more, making the unit stronger. We recall how to layer the foundation and overlay the subsequent floors.

It still takes effort, skill, and perseverance, but our experience helps us to rebuild faster, with more efficiency. We might even do it with greater patience and become more impervious to frustration. We realize fragile things collapse, but we can rebuild if we choose. In other words, we learn from each experience, adding to the pool of knowledge we’ve acquired thus far.

Experience, coupled with acceptance and patience, transforms into wisdom. We grow wiser with each experience we recover from.

So too, when rebuilding from an emotional collapse, we are more sure of our ability to recover. Though it still requires effort, skill, and perseverance, since we’ve recovered in the past, we know we can do it again. Confidence, gained from experience, is wisdom.

Well, I’m finished building my house and I have one card leftover. Ha! Look. It’s an ace I can keep.