Sticky Icky Fingers And The Other Forbidden Fruit
How to make a mountain out of a molehill
I ran across a quote that resonated with me so much — I framed it and put it on top of my desk at work. After all, work is often the perfect place to test a theory or challenge a notion. Simple in its complexity it’s one of those sayings that challenges everyone’s sensibility.
Think higher, feel deeper. ~ Elie Wiesel
I like to remind myself wherever I am, although I play such a minor role in the universe — I still have a tremendous level of humanness to uphold — a responsibility to connect with others based on love, understanding, and presenting my authentic self. However flawed.
It amazes me how ridiculously small we humans can be when so much more love will keep us uplifted in stature. We shrink to the tiniest molecule of ourselves — veer off the path of higher consciousness to pass judgement. Most of us are tortured souls for myriad reasons. Including me.
Like many, I belong to my neighborhood Nextdoor — the community site for people to exchange information, share updated news, and sell goods or services in the area in which we live. I scroll through to peek in on the happenings at least once a week to keep myself informed, entertained, or shocked.
At first, I was naïve enough to think it wasn’t typical social media. I thought it was a useful site to learn about neighborhood break-ins, coyote sightings, lost pets, people with political aspirations, future building sites, and the newest restaurant. Then I looked closer. People were spewing hate. It especially peaked during the election.
Today I was ashamed of a neighbor I don’t even know. It seems everyone has a camera these days to record the slightest motion outside their door. Me too.
They post recordings like they’re Quentin Tarantino at every conceivable angle — catching single perverse acts of people stealing packages, ringing their doorbells, and running down the driveway or the shady character casing their home for what they’re sure is for a future burglary.
The pandemic has made us all more paranoid. Some of us have less and give more, while some of us have more and give less.
On the Nextdoor site was a picture of an innocent-looking woman dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, a colorful headband, and sunglasses. She stood looking upward towards a tree. Her bike parked nearby on the sidewalk.
The snapshot revealed her picking a few avocados from a humongous tree outside of the neighbor’s front lawn. She wasn’t trespassing on their property. She was in front, near the sidewalk.
The caption under the picture read, “Who does this woman think she is stealing my avocados? She has no right!”
The pandemic has made us all more paranoid. Some of us have less and give more, while some of us have more and give less.
I understand the owner’s bird’s-eye view. She felt disrespected the woman helped herself to her avocados. The fact they were so plentiful speaks volumes of how much the owner appreciated them. They looked ripe for the picking. We all know what happens to over-ripened avocados. A squishy green mess.
But how do you place ownership on a tree? Is it not nature for everyone to enjoy? Unless of course, the homeowner sells avocados for a living. Doubtful, but who am I to judge?
Rewind.
I’m a “what if” kind of gal — always searching for the least aggressive way to douse someone’s fire. I’m the one who may occasionally inch into a lane — not purposely, because I’m running out of space to ease into on the freeway as the driver behind me is ready to curse my firstborn.
I throw up a hand of thanks. I see his chest deflate in the rear-view mirror. Whew! A day with no rage is a good day.
What if the woman picking the avocados needed a few to feed her family — to make a tasty garnish and couldn’t resist? Have you seen the price of avocados lately? What if the avocados would be the only food she had for the day?
What if culturally it was perfectly normal for her to pick a few pieces of fruit off a tree because in her native country everyone shared whatever they had? Her core belief may have been — trees belong to everyone. We’ve all done it — I certainly picked berries or cumquats off trees as a kid that weren’t my property. I lived to talk about it.
What if helping herself to nature’s gift was perfectly normal — natural for who she was as a person? If we stop to think about the whys behind someone’s behavior, we might not take a negative stance. Of course, we’re not talking about burglarizing someone’s home. We’re talking about avocados.
What if the owner was so enraged — she called the police, and they arrested the woman for stealing an avocado? Not so farfetched in today’s climate. This is an example of how a small building block or ember of rage can easily engulf an entire hillside or life in flames.
Alternatively, what if the owner put her ripened avocados in a basket with a sign that says, take as many as you need? Perhaps the joy felt in her heart would overrule her sense of ownership and spare her a spike in blood pressure.
We have the choice in a flash of a moment to make a rational decision — within mere seconds — things can go awry if we take things too personally or make the wrong decision.
I’ve always told my kids — take what you want out of life, then pay for it. The decisions we make today can and will have lasting effects on the future.
Whenever we have the ability and opportunity to think higher — we should. Thinking higher takes a few more minutes to process. In those minutes we could save a life, detour from destruction, make a friend instead of foe, and save a relationship.
Don’t use a shotgun to kill a canary.
Can you think of a time when you overreacted to something trivial and how a slight tweak of your own response would have saved you a ton of grief?