Thursday, November 10, 2011

Sometimes You Need a Break

Brigitte has been cutting my hair for quite a while now. We have both watched each other age -- that's how long I have known her. She is doing it more gracefully than I am.
Tonight while I sat at Starbucks and read my book I realized I am due for a shearing. So, without an appointment, I floored it to the Mall where she works and she was busy when I arrived. She seemed flustered when I hesitated at her suggestion that I return tomorrow evening, finally saying, "Can you give me half an hour, though?"
"Sure," I said. "No problem at all."
I got a cranberry-lemon muffin from the place next door and sat at a table in the main aisle of the Mall, outside the barber shop. [It's actually called The Barber Shop]. Continuing on with my book, I kept glancing up where I could see her in the reflections of the hundred mirrors of the place. She did not have another client after the one that had just left. Instead, Brigitte just sat there in the chair that I would soon occupy, sipping on a coffee, running her hands through her incredible mane of hair and ponderously thinking.
At exactly half an hour, she popped out into the bustle of the Mall, saw me, and said, "Are you ready now?"
The reason I am relating this story is because as I sat and had my ears lowered, she mentioned at least five times how appreciative she was that I had afforded her that half hour. For me, it was not an imposition or a chore at all -- but to her, it was extremely necessary to sit there for that space of time and "collect her thoughts" as she put it.
It made me think of times when people have been patient with me when I have been down and out.
Sometimes you need a break.
A break that does not have to be earned or explained -- just a break.
I myself have needed a break lately, and I am so appreciative of the friends that have left comments on my blog. Things like "have a nice re-think" and "come back soon" and "I cannot live without you" etc. [OK, admittedly, I made that last one up!]
The past few days, my life-long friend has been giving me some terrific over-the-phone counselling -- and during one of our sessions he said something so profound, I want to tell you of it. He said, "The distance between your expectations and what is, is called frustration."
It really helped me. I think there is great wisdom in that statement and it can be applied in so many ways. On the face of it, there is a tendency to equate it with the idea of simply lowering one's expectations. As though that would cure all ills.
But I tend to interpret it as meaning one should strive to have more realistic expectations. It's not advocating pessimism as much as it is endorsing a truer sense of things, of what is.
Being true to yourself.
At this point you may be wondering what any of this has to do with an image of a box of beer, above.
Well -- see, it's part of my ongoing therapy.
On the way home, in honour of being more and more "true to myself" I knew that my expectations of even this evening here would be heightened…. yea, accentuated, if you will -- if I just had a couple of brewskis.
So far it is working. Re-thinking my inks while I be-drinking my drinks!
Therapy. Therapy, my friends.
Sometimes we just need to do what we need to do to be what we need to be.



D.B. said...

Intelligence and deep thought - the bane of human existence. Less thinkin and more drinkin - it's all an illusion anyway, thank you Richard Bach. Also - see The Alchemist.

Stefanie said...

What a good, wise friend you have and what good thinking you've been doing. Don't drink too many of those brewskis at once though!

Beth said...

Had to read that second last sentence a few times for it to sink in, but, yeah, it makes sense.

Are you officially back from your break?

Anonymous said...

That second last sentence is the best I've read in a long time. I stopped, read it again and then got to thinking about what it is I would need to do. Very deep indeed, both your buddy and yourself Cippy.
Don't get too deep while drinking though, it might slurr some of your ideas.
Of come drink here and we can all slurr together.

Cipriano said...

Between you and Stefanie.... hmmm -- I don't know which advice to follow. You say more drinkin', she says I should be moderate.
Truth is, I joke around a lot on Bookpuddle about "drinkin" but truly, I don't drink all that much -- usually. And mostly beer, when I do. I can't stand hard liquor.
Thanks for reading my blog, Dana. I see you are a fan of Bach and Coelho. As for Bach, I admit, I do love his Double Violin Concerto in D Minor.

Yes, my friend is the BEST. I always tell him it's too bad Oprah never discovered him. He's better than Eckhart Tolle! And see, between you and D.B., and even C's suggestion that I come over for some sort of drinking party, I just do not know what to do.
"To drink, or not to drink," this is the question!

Yes, I'm probably back now in regular sporadic fashion.

I'm glad my maxim there gave you pause -- it's still giving me pause. There's a brainful of thought there, packed into the one sentence, indeed. Especially if one is loaded a bit.