The auditorium of our future is always pitch-black, and we never know for sure what will happen in that time to come. We can write appointments on our calendars, pay in advance for our front row seat, and anticipate the appearance of a favorite guest. But even though we are always seated in the front row center of our lives, we can observe nothing but the performance that the spotlight of “now” illuminates in a bright circle on stage.
I recently celebrated my seventy-fifth birthday at a dinner party on the top floor of a local hotel. Food was ordered, several hundred guests invited, and decorations were in place. A program was printed with the details of exactly what I expected to occur from 6:30 p.m. through the end of the evening.
But the spotlight of “now” did not shine on the prearranged program. I arrived half an hour late to my own party and missed most of the appetizers as well as a balloon hat. I had the opportunity before dinner to greet only a few of many guests. Dinner was scheduled for 7:15, but everyone was talking, paying no attention to repeated requests to be seated.
Everything ran late. The magician cut his act short. The pianist never did have a moment to perform. When the wind quintet finished (late) my party planner rushed over to me and said, “I’ve lost control of the party.”
I said, “No problem. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”
Since I was constantly surrounded many of my guests never found the opportunity to say “hello.”
In short, everyone had a wonderful time.
It is said that life is what happens while you are making plans. Hardly a day in my life has gone by without the spotlight of “now” shining on something I did not either plan or expect, proving time and again that I am not entirely in charge of my own life.. I am, however, in charge of my reaction.
I have two rules for the unexpected.
First, I ask myself if I can change my “now” back to what I expected, or to what I planned, at an acceptable cost. I’m sure I could have regained “control” of the party. I could have taken a microphone and loudly announced, “Okay, enough conversation. Please sit down for dinner because we’re running late.”
I think the cost of saying this, and putting the party back “on time,” would have been to dampen the high spirits and reduce the energy in the room. I thought this cost too high, so I made no announcement. I accepted the spotlight of “now” which was on the conversation, and not on the salad.
My second rule is that if I choose to allow the spotlight of “now” to shine where it will, I will simply smile, relax, and enjoy the ride. My objective for the party was to provide an environment in which my guests and I could have fun and create warm memories. That seemed to happen. But, regardless, my job in living my life is to squeeze s much joy as possible out of every minute. Basically, this means to find the positive in whatever the spotlight of “now” reveals.
When I was fourteen I was a hospital patient for the first time, about to have my appendix removed. I was in serious pain and knew that my recovery from the operation would hurt even more. I reframed my situation, and thought, “This is great. This is going to really hurt, and for the rest of my life I will remember this day and better appreciate the absence of physical pain.”
Your life, and every one of your relationships, will bring surprises. Not all will be happy. Regardless, you are free to define whatever appears in your spotlight of “now” as positive. Your “me,” your “us,” and your “now” will be the better for it.
Alan