I recently wrote that life happens the way it happens, not the way it is supposed to happen. Then just a few hours ago I was walking along a street near my hotel in Barcelona, enjoying the warm spring air and the last of the daylight while pondering where to eat, when I realized that life is composed of scales. There are scales of happiness and of purpose are among (I am sure) many other sorts of scales. We periodically measure things such as pleasure and pain on a scale from one to ten, so why not measure the balance of life on a scale, too.
Yes, life sometimes happens to you, but you can also happen to your life. It is the balance between the controllable and the uncontrollable. A portion of that, which relates especially well to the uncontrollable, is one's attitude. However, what about the controllable? Are we to let life happen to us without even trying to shape it according to what moves each one of us? It would be pointless for me to be writing this blog if I subscribed to that fatalistic view of the world. On the contrary, just like life happens to us, we can also take control and decide what we want to do with our energy, talent, and time and in turn create an action that has an effect on that scale of purpose.
Take my day today. Really it started yesterday with about 300 passengers boarding my plane, many of them destined to get off that plane and get on a cruise ship. The cruise passengers are the worst. It's not that cruises are bad things, but they set up a mentality that simply does not work on an airplane. Let's start with the basic concept. A cruise ship is a vacation spot, whereas an airplane is just the vehicle that transports you to your vacation spot. Big difference, people! Unfortunately, the cruise passengers always fail to notice this staggering difference in purpose and expect that they should be able to mill about and stretch and have me entertain them with witty remarks, and drink and eat until they've had their fill and ask and receive what they want exactly when they want it. They completely ignore that while they are asking for their third glass of wine and an extra brownie, there might still be 172 passengers that have not received a meal or a beverage at all. Long story short, I was stuck with them for about eight hours overnight with about an hour and a half set aside for my break. After working through the night, I walked into my hotel room, put on my pajamas, and went into the kind of sleep that could very well have been a coma for about five hours. In theory, I could have probably slept more. I definitely could have just stayed in my hotel room and bummed around. Instead, I decided to venture out.
No matter how exhausted I am, I took this job to travel and enjoy different parts of the world, not to stay in my hotel room. I threw on some jeans and a t shirt, grabbed my purse (took out the USD wallet, put in the one containing a few Euros saved from my trip to Athens a week or two ago), and walked out the door. I had no idea where I was headed; I just turned down a street that I had never explored before and started walking. First, I found a grocery store. Though I walked in and was tempted to buy wine and cheese, I decided to save the money for my vacation to Italy and just find a small place to grab a bite. Then I found a bakery, where I saw the most delicious looking frozen pastry just calling my name. I bought it, of course, along with a "palmera" (which I think in English is called an Elephant's Ear) for breakfast tomorrow morning. I then walked across the street to a small park where I sat on a bench and tackled what turned out to be an enormous pastry. It was like a giant flaky donut shaped ice cream sandwich and it had frozen whipped cream filling in plain cream and chocolate flavors. As I bit into it some of the flaky pastry fell on my sleeve and I brushed it off onto the ground. Less than a minute later there were a few pigeons approaching me. Then I noticed between the pigeons another bird. It was a bit smaller than the pigeons and green in color. When it got closer I realized it was a type of parrot! I thought maybe it was someone's pet and was lost but then another appeared. Then I thought maybe the person kept two parrots and somehow left the cage open. I thought to myself, 'they are probably wild, but I won't know for sure unless I spot a third one.' Right then a third one flew over from a nearby tree. I sat very still and held a piece of pastry between my outstretched fingers. The first parrot came close but then lowered its head, hesitating. I dropped the flake and it hurriedly took it in its beak and took flight, landing a few yards away. I continued to share my pastry with the parrots until there was none left. I managed to capture a picture before my camera battery died and then I continued my journey.
Next, I found a small chapel that belongs to a school. I walked in (I can't really pass by an open church without walking in because I always feel that finding an open church is an invitation from God to come in and visit with Him) and prayed for a few minutes. I think there was going to be Mass soon, but I didn't feel like God needed me to stay that long and I was feeling a bit restless, so I stepped out and continued walking. Then I saw, across the park where I encountered the parrots, a little restaurant. What caught my attention was that the restaurant's logo was a very simple image of an owl. I don't know why an owl enticed me so much, but I walked into Gufo and enjoyed a delicious dinner for less money than I would have spent at the grocery store. I drank a café con leche (Spanish coffee with hot milk and lots of sugar), ate an asparagus tortilla (it's sort of like an omelet) with salad, patatas bravas (fried potatoes with a spicy tomato mayo sauce), and tomato toast (they actually rub tomato onto the toast). All the while, I enjoyed thinking about my project, reflecting on my day of adventure, and even read a few pages of the Italian children's novel that I am trying to decipher, entitled "La Bambina in Fondo al Mare."
That is when I realized two things. First, I have very little self control. Second, a day that could have just been average or OK was just rescued and turned into a beautiful day.
The self control thing has to do with the fact that I should be reading a lot more Italian than I am at the moment in preparation for my vacation next month and, with the exception of tonight's dinner, I cannot seem to put down Gretchen Rubin's book "the Happiness Project," which I am supposed to be saving for May 1st. The second realization, however, is at the heart of the scales of purpose and happiness. It shows that even beyond putting on a good face to neutralize a day full of things that you can't control that tip the scale towards the negative side, sometimes you can take action and do something to tip the scale back towards the positive side.
How do you measure happiness and purpose? What action do you take when you want to tip the scale to the positive side?
