On Monday, at work, I was sitting down to my lunch in a small recess in the hallway, containing the elevator access, some lockers, and another door leading to a stairwell. As I do every day, I sat by the lockers, facing the hallway, back against the wall. I sit here, alone, for half an hour, because I relish the relative quiet it offers, as opposed to sitting and eating with the student population.
However, on Monday, it wasn't quite as peaceful as normal. There was a very aggravating fruit fly that was grating on my nerves.. which already happened to be stressed. It buzzed and flew around, but didn't leave. It could smell the apple core, recently abandoned on the floor with the other trash from my lunch, to be disposed of when I was finished... and it evidently wanted it as much as I wanted the fly to leave.
I raised my hands into the classic hand-clap position to kill the miniature annoyance - and then paused. The question flashed through my brain and seemed to cut to my very soul: "What right to you have to take life, even if only an insect's?" It occurred to me that even though I knew the layout of the niche in the wall we were currently sharing and well beyond it, that fly's entire worldview was comprised of the few centimeters in front of its pin-prick sized eyes. I remembered that although it knew there was food near, it hadn't any idea where, and was simply doing its fly-like best to find the thing that would give it sustenance.
The longer I sat and thought, the more I felt like I knew exactly how that little fruit fly felt. It was lost in its world, with nothing to guide it except a smell - one small hint, one small nudge in the right direction, to help it find its way amongst the huge airspace it was trying to navigate.
Likewise, I felt lost. Earlier that morning, the fellow who trained me when I was first hired came in to help me 'catch up'.. and he proceeded to tell me how I should be doing things, what was taking too long when I did it, and pointing out things I was missing. He was nice about it, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn't ever been there before. In the space of 15 minutes, he managed to reduce me to tears (I didn't cry, but my eyes watered when he left). He had made some good points, shown me some things I didn't know.. but I was also upset because I felt he was in the wrong in some ways. For example, the pace he set for loading and washing I feel to be much too quick, because the attention to detail is lost in the process, and in the six or seven racks of dishes he washed, I had to redo about 60-70% because they weren't clean to standard. I pointed out the first two or three things, and he simply said, "Rinse them off and throw them through again." I was dismayed and rather distressed about this method. To me, it makes more sense to go through a bit more slowly and make sure it's done right the first time. He has a small daughter, aged three and a half, and I felt like saying, "You wouldn't want to give your daughter a bath, but do it so quickly you had to bathe her again directly afterward." Obviously I didn't, but I was very unsettled as to how I should do things (do it his way, or keep going with mine), and as I said, I was upset.
As is my custom, I didn't react right away.. I like to think about things, and try to gain insight from as many angles as possible before I offer advice or make a decision. So, when lunch came, I went out to my little corner and met the small fly that changed me.
Tuesday came. I found out that the same fellow had moved Sunday, into a house a little over two blocks away from me - and had possibly left behind his common-law wife and small daughter. I didn't know that Monday, but hearing it on Tuesday made me glad that I didn't speak what I wanted to. Obviously he was under a lot of stress, and even though he tried to be nice and for the most part succeeded, I felt that frusteration with other situations in his life in his voice as he spoke to me.
After he told me that, I thought a lot more about that little fly. About how it only saw a very small percentage of the big picture. I knew how to get to the apple core, but to him, it was miles away and presented a huge challenge. Likewise, with my coworker, all I saw was a portion of the whole on Monday.. but I learned more on Tuesday.
It's like life. I have the opportunity to go to Europe in March, but it would mean collecting and spending $3,500. I want to go to Europe; I also want to go to school. I can't see the big picture of my future, but I know that the nudge in the right direction is there. I've decided to save the money for school - to me, that's more important and will open more opportunities.. maybe even a trip to Italy and Greece, to see the great landmarks of society past. Maybe I'll be presented with a different opportunity to see more and go for a longer time. Who knows? Certainly not I. However, I do know that every day I live will reveal a little more of that henceforth hidden painting titled, "My Life". I just have to keep trying, like the fruitfly, and not let the crushing hands of life's challenges crumple me - or my drive.
You have a life painting, too. Nobody can see the entire picture. Someday, however, it will become clear. Someday, you'll come to a point and just know that this is why you're alive, that this is why you've lived your life, this is what your purpose is. You'll only reach it, though, if you live like a fruitfly.
(And in case you're wondering, I compromised on my technique at work, incorporating some new things, and keeping some old. So far, I'm going faster AND the dishes are clean :) )
me likey ;)
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