Another episode with my (fictional) grandpa (i.e., myself) where I’m worried about how to fit in all the variety of dishes available at a dinner party buffet in my single, limited spaced plate…
I was on an unknown dinner party with people my family knew. I hated to meet those people as none of them really cared about my presence but still all of then would definitely ask me a series of question, almost predictable series, which I hate to answer.
So, I skipped through all the introduction and socializing hush-bush, and directly went for the reason I went there – dinner. I don’t really remember the occasion for which party was organized.
I was skipping through the tiles, jumping on the pattern, while ignoring all the people I’d bump into. I had hoped that they would just ignore me, consider me a psycho and would avoid talking to me. And till now, it had worked.
But then, my own Grandpa came to me and expressed a desire to talk.
Over the dinner, we talked about random topics from my life and he gave me advices in each one of them. I don’t actually remember any of those as they were not practical. They required me to be active, strong minded and willing to perform in my life, which was exactly the opposite kinda guy of what the school had made out of me.
The dinner was being served by the caterers and often a well-dressed waiter would come up and serve my plate with things that I didn’t want. Before I could say anything, he would just throw it all onto my plate. And then I’d be left staring at those things, thinking where to hide all this stash…
My Grandpa said “What happened, son? You look weird today… Not liking the food, are we?”
Me: *Shaking my head* “Nah… Nothing… No problem. I’m… I’m fine.”
“You don’t look like that, definitely…” And Grandpa resumed his dinner.
After a while, another waiter came and put things in my plate, and it was too late when I noticed that. He had already left.
“Would you mind? I hope not…” Grandpa said while putting a few bites from his plate to mine.
I shouted “No! I DO mind! My plate’s already full and you pushing things off your plate to me! No way I’m gonna complete this plate!”
Grandpa simply smiled.
I couldn’t bear it any longer and asked “Come on… Speak!”
Grandpa spoke with a bigger smile “Why is your plate full?”
“Because that waiter is serving out things without first confirming with me…”
“No.” Grandpa snapped in between.
“Yes! You look… Just in a minute. He’ll come back and put things in my plate without asking me anything! He’s just…” I tried to explain myself, rather poorly.
“You can always say ‘NO’… But for that you’d require to pay attention for his arrival” Grandpa explained.
He went on “Look son… In life, we are often bombarded with work, responsibilities and expectations. And sometimes, we feel that we are being pounded at from all the directions and that we cannot take it any longer. We wanna quit, we wanna leave the plate half-eaten. But that’s when you should understand – we can always foresee those servings and can always be ready to say NO to them.”
I looked at him, mouth half-opened. He found way of giving me life advice even at this diner!!
“But what if I couldn’t foresee the serving, and am left with extra food on my plate?” having a habit to argue at every point, I gave a poor defensive tilt.
Grandpa looked at me for a while and said “Is your plate really full then?”
Our dinner was complete, mine was a mess, but I had better things to do. I had to think upon my conversation with Grandpa, first of all understand what he meant by that last remark, and then use it in my daily life, where I always think that I am being barraged by tasks and that my plate is always full.
P.s.: Do tell if you happen to understand my grandpa’s advice…