Better Late Than Never
And I do mean late. Like 87 years late. Only now have I finally become aware that if I wait long enough, everything will always work out.
Of course I wasn’t really aware of that when I was only 40 or 50. I stressed over many things and didn’t realize that my stressing made no difference at all. For example, as a sales representative for 3M Company I was told that I was to be given a territory other than the one was in at the time. “No Way”, I thought. “I’ve worked this territory for three years. I’ve established great rapport with my customers. I bring more sales into our division that anyone else.”
Did I stress over the change? You bet I did. How dare 3M uproot my life when I was so comfortable in my territory and my surroundings? Little did I know that I would be happier in my new territory than I had ever been before. I was transferred to Port Hueneme and I loved it there. I enjoyed driving to Santa Barbara every day, living less than a block from the ocean, and going to sleep every night to the sound of the waves.
My new customers were wonderful, too. Among them I established lifelong friendships. I felt free. 3M trusted me to bring the territory up to the standards that I had achieved in the past with no supervision and no control other than turning in a weekly report. It was wonderful and I was content. Why did I make such a fuss about moving?
The truth is, I made many fusses over major and minor things all of my life. For example, when I was about 19 years old I planned to attend a formal affair. We youngsters dressed in formal attire for almost no reason at all. Just to go out for dinner and dancing at some nightclub. But we went as a group, with the boy’s club and the girl’s sorority, and then we were at our most elegant. I wanted to wear a pink dress that I saw but my mother insisted that I looked better in red. I, however, was convinced that pink would make me more beautiful. Mother won, of course. She usually did. The dress she helped me select fit beautifully. It draped well over my nearly perfect body and I felt wonderful in it. So I put up a fight, held on to my idea, spent some time pouting, wore the red dress and had no way of knowing what would follow.
What did follow was fabulous. The band was playing when I entered the restaurant. Many couples were dancing on the sunken dance floor. I remained at the top of the steps waiting for my escort, Dave, to come back after he left my wrap in the coatroom. Suddenly the music stopped. Then the orchestra began to play “Lady in Red” (a Ginger Rogers song). Everyone stopped dancing. All eyes were focused on me as Dave took me down the stairs, put his arm around me and began dancing with me. That night I was the Belle of the Ball. And mother turned out to be right after all.
Many other incidents occurred that caused me concern such as losing my job, stressing over my lack of salary (remember, I was a single mom raising two teen-age children) and worrying about how I was going to make the rent. Before long I was able to find a new job in a better field with an advancement of position and an increase in salary. Losing my previous job was, once again, the best thing that could have happened to me. Did I know it at the time? Of course not. Instead, I lay awake nights worrying, not knowing how I was going to manage our lives. But like everything else, everything always works out.
Now I’m going to write about dying. Perhaps you recall (in a previous Reflection) that many years ago I asked God for a terminal illness. I wanted to assure myself that every-thing was in order before I died. I wanted those that I loved to have a possession that had been important to me. And I seem to have gotten exactly what I asked for. The six-month death diagnosis has now stretched into four years and I’ve had the time to explore this world, enlarge my knowledge about things I had often wondered about, and receive many blessings as I’ve watched relationships mature to perfection. Above all else I now realize how interesting and comforting life is. I’ve been allowed to wait long enough to be free of stress, to be kinder to myself and to enjoy my days. My dying experience has served me well. And, as in everything else, it too will eventually work out.
Of course I wasn’t really aware of that when I was only 40 or 50. I stressed over many things and didn’t realize that my stressing made no difference at all. For example, as a sales representative for 3M Company I was told that I was to be given a territory other than the one was in at the time. “No Way”, I thought. “I’ve worked this territory for three years. I’ve established great rapport with my customers. I bring more sales into our division that anyone else.”
Did I stress over the change? You bet I did. How dare 3M uproot my life when I was so comfortable in my territory and my surroundings? Little did I know that I would be happier in my new territory than I had ever been before. I was transferred to Port Hueneme and I loved it there. I enjoyed driving to Santa Barbara every day, living less than a block from the ocean, and going to sleep every night to the sound of the waves.
My new customers were wonderful, too. Among them I established lifelong friendships. I felt free. 3M trusted me to bring the territory up to the standards that I had achieved in the past with no supervision and no control other than turning in a weekly report. It was wonderful and I was content. Why did I make such a fuss about moving?
The truth is, I made many fusses over major and minor things all of my life. For example, when I was about 19 years old I planned to attend a formal affair. We youngsters dressed in formal attire for almost no reason at all. Just to go out for dinner and dancing at some nightclub. But we went as a group, with the boy’s club and the girl’s sorority, and then we were at our most elegant. I wanted to wear a pink dress that I saw but my mother insisted that I looked better in red. I, however, was convinced that pink would make me more beautiful. Mother won, of course. She usually did. The dress she helped me select fit beautifully. It draped well over my nearly perfect body and I felt wonderful in it. So I put up a fight, held on to my idea, spent some time pouting, wore the red dress and had no way of knowing what would follow.
What did follow was fabulous. The band was playing when I entered the restaurant. Many couples were dancing on the sunken dance floor. I remained at the top of the steps waiting for my escort, Dave, to come back after he left my wrap in the coatroom. Suddenly the music stopped. Then the orchestra began to play “Lady in Red” (a Ginger Rogers song). Everyone stopped dancing. All eyes were focused on me as Dave took me down the stairs, put his arm around me and began dancing with me. That night I was the Belle of the Ball. And mother turned out to be right after all.
Many other incidents occurred that caused me concern such as losing my job, stressing over my lack of salary (remember, I was a single mom raising two teen-age children) and worrying about how I was going to make the rent. Before long I was able to find a new job in a better field with an advancement of position and an increase in salary. Losing my previous job was, once again, the best thing that could have happened to me. Did I know it at the time? Of course not. Instead, I lay awake nights worrying, not knowing how I was going to manage our lives. But like everything else, everything always works out.
Now I’m going to write about dying. Perhaps you recall (in a previous Reflection) that many years ago I asked God for a terminal illness. I wanted to assure myself that every-thing was in order before I died. I wanted those that I loved to have a possession that had been important to me. And I seem to have gotten exactly what I asked for. The six-month death diagnosis has now stretched into four years and I’ve had the time to explore this world, enlarge my knowledge about things I had often wondered about, and receive many blessings as I’ve watched relationships mature to perfection. Above all else I now realize how interesting and comforting life is. I’ve been allowed to wait long enough to be free of stress, to be kinder to myself and to enjoy my days. My dying experience has served me well. And, as in everything else, it too will eventually work out.
No comments:
Post a Comment