If you had to describe yourself, would you say you were a positive or a negative person?
I acknowledge that it's a seriously big continuum that covers the ground between these two outlooks on life. Indeed, on either side of 'center' there is a whole range: with head-in-the-sand, see-no-evil, rose-colored lens-sporting Pollyanna types on one end, and doom-and-gloom, negative Nelly, glass half-empty, woe-is-me, Eeyore types on the other. Perhaps you know someone who has established permanent residence on one of the far ends of the spectrum?
My freshman-year, college roommate was a skip-down the halls, sing to herself, always happy, what-the-hell-did-she-sprinkle-on-her-cereal? nutcase. She was like a Stepford Student or something. But the natural law of the Universe dictates that there be balance, and the other day I witnessed an exchange, the only purpose of which must be to counter-weight the overload of chronic cheerfulness that some people see to believe exists in the world.
I was at the local pet food store and saw/heard an acquaintance complaining vociferously to the shop's owner--and anyone else within earshot who dared to make eye contact--about how expensive his dogs are. Vet bills, food... whine, moan, groan. Trying to counteract the bellyaching with a little levity, I suggested that at least dogs were cheaper than kids. The result? He started complaining about his kids. The poor store owner just looked at me like, "Gee, thanks a lot, Kim." Meanwhile, I'm waiting to pay for Finnian's food and thinking that this guy really needs one of those "Wag More. Bark Less" bumper stickers. I should have bought him one.
The point being: MOST of us float around the mid-point of the continuum. The pendulum of life is constantly in motion (except for a select few people as described above). We have good days and bad. Days when we believe that everything will be fine, go according to plan and turn out well. We also have days when we believe that disaster, crisis and mishap lurk around the next corner. So swings my outlook on life lately. Especially with the Bear.
The Bear and I have been making weekly trips to the new den to get it all provisioned for his upcoming foray into independent living. The Bear has done the heavy-lifting of items up to his second-story apartment. Then, as crates are opened, he has looked with wide-eyed wonder upon the implements of human habituation: pots and pans, brooms, dustpans, toilet brushes, and ice cube trays, to name but a few.
I share with you this re-cap of a recent conversation. My internal dialogue is shown in parentheses...
"Wow, Mom! This is a lot of stuff, thanks! Which drawer should I put this in?" (He's engaged in the process...positive)
"I'm in the other room, Nate, what are you holding? (Thinks I can see through walls...negative)
"I don't know what it is...that's why I'm asking." (Actually cares to ask, rather than throwing unknown item into trash...positive)
I finished putting the photo-sensitive nightlight in the bathroom outlet--not that he asked for one, mind you-- and went out to the kitchen.
"That's a knife sharpener. Put it in the drawer with the knives". (Would he have connected knives with sharpener?...skeptical)
"Oh, good. I hate dull knives now that I've worked with sharp ones all summer. We use a sharpening steel, though.", the Bear said. "Did you get me any bleach?" (Another engaged question...about cleaning...positive, positive...)
"Bleach? Why do you need bleach?" (I just had to ask, you know...)
"To clean with." (Duh)
"Clean what? The toilet? White t-shirts?" (Growing skepticism...negative)
"Everything! It's what we use at work. Spray bottles with a mixture of water and bleach. You know." (OMG!! Panic...negative)
"You can't go around spraying everything with bleach!!!" (I have done a lousy job training this Bear)
"We do at work!" (At least he cleans somewhere...there is hope...maybe...right?)
So I had to explain why a seafood market, with concrete floors, glass cases, stainless steel tables and fixtures can be washed down a bit differently than an old apartment with linoleum, painted cupboards and dark brown indoor/outdoor carpet. Thank God he mentioned it ahead of time or we'd be buying new flooring next May.
Later, after putting away the balance of the kitchen, hanging the shower curtain and inspecting the new shelves that the Bear built--good job, no extra pieces, actually read the instruction sheet, (positive) and the towel bar that he put up with the landlord's permission--using wallboard anchors and a level so it would be strong and straight (positive), I felt my outlook shifting perceptibly to the positive.
Then I noticed that the bathroom nightlight, which he did not ask for, was unplugged and lying on a shelf. (Skepticism...negative)
"Nate, why is the nightlight unplugged?" (I just had to ask, you know)
"Mom, I am not going to be living here until after Labor Day. Why waste the electricity? Did you notice that I didn't plug the microwave or my printer or any of my lamps in, either?" (Shows concern for living expenses and environmental awareness...positive...positive...positive!)
And the pendulum swings far to the side of optimism... (YEAH!! THERE IS HOPE!!!)
But knowing that the Universe lives within the law of balance, I know the pendulum will reach its apex and then swing in the other direction. Thus, I cannot shake the nagging thought that he will eventually cut himself on a dull knife while making a sandwich in the middle of the night with no nightlight, and then clean up the blood by spraying the whole place down with bleach. Like they do at the shop. And on CSI.
Because, especially with the Bear: when all signs are positive, I fear the other shoe dropping. And when all the signs are negative, I will always have hope. A balance of positive and negative. Just like this week's featured piece. See it on the website--link below my signature.
Until next week--
