3 Metaphors to Live By

Sometimes the simplest ideas are the most applicable to daily life. Three of the most useful to me come by way of my husband, the airline industry, and Buddhism. Each functions literally, and each one works metaphorically for many situations in this life.

The first is from my husband. Pick your speed and drive at that speed; if drivers are slower, pass them; if others are faster, they can pass.

We seem to get into odd competitions over many things and often with little logic. Some have to do with speed -  how fast one can complete a task like lawn mowing, ironing, writing a report. Others, like how many hours to sleep, or what financial priorities should be, or what party to vote for can be the subject of dispute, not to mention the target of advertising.

It's not that we cannot be swayed by new and better information regarding our "speed" in life, or that we should choose anything which would endanger others or be illegal; rather it's that the competitions and discussions arising from personal differences often take on epic proportions and have little to do with facts. Simply "driving at one's own speed" without argument, judgement, or discussion works awfully well.

The second idea to live by comes from the airline industry. If the need arises, put on your own oxygen mask first, then assist others with theirs. 

We tend to feel selfish if we help ourselves first; how could a parent take care of his or her own breathing, leaving a child possibly to suffer, or worse.  We are told this on airplanes because children and others less able need us to be okay, so we can help them.

People pleasers and those who take on too much for others would do well to follow this advice. If they make themselves sick from overwork, they won't be of any help to anyone and most likely will make things worse. We have to be able to breathe in order to be able to make sure others can.

The third idea is the teaching tale called the empty boat, from Buddhist tradition. In this story, a man is in a boat on a river, and another boat begins to careen wildly toward him. As the boat increases speed and zeroes in on the man, he waves his arms, swears, yells, and becomes very angry with the driver of the other boat. He wonders who would want to kill him and how anyone could behave like that; he gets himself very worked up. As the boat narrowly misses him, he sees that it is a driver-less boat. His upset with the other driver was moot. Buddhist tradition does not mention anything about blood pressure!

There is a stretch of road near my home that changes from two lanes to one after an intersection. For blocks before that intersection, drivers jockey for position, wanting to be first in the single lane. I used to get caught up in this sometimes, until I began to notice how often the other driver turned off and wasn't aiming to beat me to the intersection at all. "Empty boat," I would say to myself. One has to be so foolish only a few times before the "empty boat" comes to the rescue.

The book All I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum preceded me by a couple of decades with the idea that some of the best advice for living comes from very basic situations. These three work for me.

Anchors Aweigh

January 1, 2012 was my first day of retirement. Even though it was a right and well-timed decision, I had wondered just exactly what I would feel on that first morning, the point from which everything could or would change.

I am happy to say that I had no panic, no ringing reverberations that I had made the wrong decision. As I awoke, the first thing that popped into my mind was that I was unmoored.

I was intrigued about the reason for that particular word. Why "unmoored"? Why not "untethered," or "afloat," or "adrift"? They all denote similar conditions.

Metaphor is at work here, as is connotation.

Work had made me feel tethered for a good while - an animal tied and restricted to a limited radius. But a sense of the rope and the fixed point around which it circles remains in the word "untethered."
Whoever owns the animal controls both tethering and untethering.  So, while I was tethered then, now I am simply free.

Being tied to work limits the radius of pretty much all of one's activities: when and where to travel, when to do the laundry, when to get up, when to go to sleep, when to eat and drink, when to shop. And though I am unlikely to take up street hockey on Wednesdays or start doing laundry at 3:00 A.M., every routine, every activity is free from the considerations of how it will fit with the demands of work.

If I do not feel untethered, neither do I feel adrift. To me, the word "adrift" has a slightly negative connotation. A ship adrift on the ocean implies that there is no choice - there is no option of simply raising a sail or starting an engine. Coleridge's Ancient Mariner was adrift. Retirement definitely does not feel like an albatross of no choices.

The word "afloat" feels as ever so slightly positive as "adrift" feels negative. It carries with it the definitions of being "in full swing" and "out of debt." Sounds good to me. But still there is a sense of drifting, rudderless and powerless.

"Unmoored" is exactly right. The word has two nautical meanings, both of which apply. Simply being set free of moorings is one meaning. Reducing mooring to only one anchor is the other. So here I am - free of the moorings of work, yet still anchored in life. Whenever I choose to raise that one anchor (or let it down again), I can choose direction and speed, or to just float for a bit.

Anchors aweigh!




(photo credit - http://mysailingadventures.blogspot.com/2009/11/big-fright.html)

Merry Christmas

Baby, It's Cold Outside

It's difficult to choose a favourite version, but this one is gorgeous.

I'm hoping to be back with many new posts in the New Year.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.