Well, while we’re on the subject of beginnings, I thought it would be appropriate to address my ongoing battle with mornings. Greeting the day has become an emotionally masochistic experiement where I wait with great anticipation for my next ridiculous blunder to remind me of my very humanness. Case in point: Today. Fridays are usually interesting for me because, unlike Monday through Thursday, I do not work in a traditional sense. This allows me vastly more flexibility in determining a time to begin my conscious interaction with the world. Yet today I decided it would behoove me to maintain as much schedule and structure as possible in order to tackle a to-do list that fills nearly three pages. Sticking with my traditional routine, I figured there was less room for error. I set out to prepare my usual cup of organic, free-trade coffee (with raw cane sugar) and a bowl of organic Quaker oatmeal. Fortunately, my unofficial fiance had already brewed a fresh pot before his departure. This was a special treat, as most days I am the one who assumes this responsibility. With little hesitation, I selected a mug from our randomly mismatched collection, poured my coffee and seasoned to taste. I then set the water to boil, retrieved a bowl from the cabinet, and promptly dumped my packet of dry oatmeal into my mug of coffee. Yes, you read that correctly.
After realizing what I had done and sharing a hearty chuckle with my two dogs, I decided my only option was to empty the inedible concoction into the sink and start again. This is my life.
Fortunately, not every morning mishap involves casualties of waste, but laughing at myself has become a humbling daily ritual. It hasn’t always been this way. In my youth and throughout my early college years, waking and tackling the day was as flawlessly regimented as every other aspect of my anal-retentive, over-achiever life. For most of my adolescence, I composed detailed lists the evening prior that would break-up my morning into 5 minute increments of action-packed perfectionism. Seriously, folks, I actually reserved time for mundane tasks like my inevitable morning piss. I was one of those people who would not only set out my attire the night before, but would accessorize the ensemble with jewelry, shoes and a matching handbag. (well, actually I didn’t have THAT many handbags.) But needlesstosay, planning and organization were a secret obsession of mine. The words “clean your room” were never uttered from the lips of my dutiful parents, unless they were addressing my younger sibling. In fact, it was not uncommon for me to clean up after my own mother, whose housecleaning standards were far more healthy than my own.
Ironically, somewhere around age 30, I became my mother. But for all the love and admiration I possess for my mother and all the reasonableness of my newly acquired personal temperment, I am still plagued by the desire for perfection that I inherited from my father. It is no wonder they call childbearing “reproduction”.
Bring on the day! (:

5 comments
Comments feed for this article
November 30, 2007 at 5:20 pm
mrschili
I am the morning person of my family. I get up with the alarm, I get everyone rousted, I make lunches and put the kettle on for tea and oatmeal or the bread in the toaster while Mr. Chili cycles the girls through his shower. HE takes care of evenings; he oversees jammies and tooth-brushing, he reads the stories and does the tucking-in. We have a nice routine going, and it seems to work for everyone involved.
Laughing at oneself is a HIGHLY underrated character trait. Being able to do so makes one’s life much, much better.
December 1, 2007 at 2:28 am
Dad
I have learned that perfection is a relative perspective of how we interpret our environment and our place in it. Life became a lot less stressful when I realized that my environment is always perfect. The Universe conspired to create our environment, so how could it be otherwise? Accepting the Universe and the environment as perfect frees one to focus on the remaining variables, our interaction with our environment and how we choose to feel about it. The key concept here is “choice”. If I can own the problem, I can own the solution. This becomes I am the problem, I am the solution. It is kind of empowering to know that you are actually the creator. Learn to see the perfection in each moment. Love, Dad
December 1, 2007 at 11:39 pm
Dad
Mom said you thought you might have hurt my feelings regarding your memory of my personal focus on perfection. Just the opposite, I thought what you wrote was great. When you mentioned my search for perfection, I just wanted to share my thoughts on how my perception of perfection has evolved. As a child, I had to be the perfect child because that is what was rewarded in my family. Then, perfection was all about my behavior, keeping my room clean and keeping all my stuff stowed in its proper place. It was the same during my 20 years in submarines, perfect behavior, procedural compliance, training and qualification. In submarines, keeping everything stowed in its proper place is a potential life and death issue. The Navy just reenforced my childhood expectations.
In the 20 years since I retired from the Submarine Force, my perception of perfection has evolved. It is not something I seek anymore. I found it. I see it everywhere, in everything. Mom had a lot to do with my transformation, but you and David helped and possibly Depak Chopra and others. Everything happens for a reason. It is the Universe speaking to me and me trying to figure out what it is saying. I never fail to get the message, the impossible just takes longer. The Universe has a sense of humor. It only seems appropriate for me to laugh at the punch lines.
December 2, 2007 at 1:00 pm
mrschili
Dad, you want to adopt me?
December 2, 2007 at 5:24 pm
Organic Mama
I’m in line, too!
Clarity and focus and owning problems and solutions; it’s all hard work, but ultimately, it’s the only work that matters. Sometimes, it’s difficult to see oneself in all our layers of problems, patterns, proclivities and pathologies, but we do get clarity, a hearty laugh is such a reward, for it’s insight into a clearer path.
This conversation is incredibly timely, as it is the foundation of discussions my husband and I have been having for years and most strenuously, this morning. Lovely post!