Taco lessons: Part II

No words can describe the mix of rage and disbelief. Once, spicy pork tacos carefully crafted with love, now, cabbage and Nunya sauce littering the floor. Sort of. I managed to save two on the tray and salvaged one from the cup holder. But still. Rage and disbelief.

However, this is where my higher-thinking took over. I've been lucky to have this weird kind of reaction to stressful situations, large and small. Almost automatically, my frame of mind opens up when my blood pressure starts to rise. My thoughts declutter and my vision focuses. It's pretty odd actually, this physical and psychological reaction. It seems uncanny that I should become more focused in times of increased chaos. It is a skill that I constantly try to hone because it was a link in the chain of events that saved my life during my first engine failure. It keeps me level-headed and allows me momentary clarity to make decisions.

But tacos? Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure I've conveyed how amazing these tacos are, but there are two things I noticed when I reflected on the start of my day. 1.) I had managed to place so much into a plate of food that when my plan went awry, it caused a reaction that my mind and body reserves for survival, and I was 2.) presented with a situation that I thought I controlled so well, only to have the universe say "go fuck yourself (and then the sound of tacos hitting the floor)".

I don't often put a lot of eggs in any one basket, especially something so temporary as food. Embarrassing. This taught me, once again, that while caring about something is humanly essential, depending on one or only a few things can leave you in a precarious situation. It is a gamble when you put your comfort or happiness (two very important things for everyone's own personal reasons) in one activity or pass-time. Imagine having your only backup be a sunny day in the park. You can't depend on the weather, and what happens if you need an escape at night? You would need to diversify your happiness and comfort. This is analogous to investing money; you want to spread out your investments so if one of them tanks, you don't lose everything. I used to love being out in the Sun. It was warm and bright, I was happy. I lived in Florida. I invested a lot of my happiness dollars in the Sunny Days Bank and a lot less in, say, reading a good book. It paid off handsomely for years. You can see where this is going...when I moved to Seattle, I had to move more of my investment away from Sunny Days and into finding good books, which there is no shortage of nearby. I will have to keep this in mind as I break down my happiness into every little nickle and dime experience of the day, something I failed to do this weekend. Hopefully I can put a small amount of effort in and get a decent rate of return.

The next thing I learned from my tacos was that the universe can flip your shit over at any time (most likely, according to Murphy, the worst possible time). I've been taught this often and keeps me happily on my toes, but sometimes I forget. Hunger for food and caffeine can cloud my mind. It can be at its worst first thing in the morning when I'm stumbling around, tripping over my thoughts and clean laundry all over the living room. I might not be able to see misfortune nor serendipity coming, but it doesn't hurt to pay attention.

And so I sat there, calmly simmering in a few valuable lessons while NPR asked me for money again. When I saw the bigger picture, I completely forgot about the rage and instead rejoiced because it had only taken me a few brief moments to bounce back from something that I could have let completely ruin my day (night). Besides, if you are miserable while you're eating Marination then you are doing it wrong.