Gathering my eggs

Happy Easter, valued readers. I sincerely hope yours is filled with a sense of fulfillment and renewal.

Gosh knows so many of us can use each of those enrichments in this angst-laden society we’ve created and condoned in recent decades.

I’ve always seen this period of lime-green leafings and life-sustaining showers as the ideal time in this brief existence to reflect on my attitudes and decide what specific changes would be best to awaken and nurture in my own behavior.

For instance, I’ve always had a problem with impatience. That hasn’t seemed to improve much as I’ve aged. In a mindset of gettin’ ’er done, I allow far too many valuable moments and experiences to fall through life’s cracks. But now, I’m taking deeper breaths and counting to at least eight before beginning to fume.

You could say I’m working on appreciating self-improvement by mentally gathering a series of brightly colored Easter eggs I’m hoping to peel and consume into the fabric of my spirit.

The red egg of improving my patience tells me that, rather than rage when someone cuts me off in traffic, I intentionally make it a point to smile. Sure, it’s a sharp contradiction to my actual thoughts and feelings. Yet, somehow, just doing that enriches my context and perspective. I realize there’s nothing I can do about inevitable frustrations except choose my reaction.

It’s the same when someone at the store impressively manages to block an entire wide aisle with a single shopping cart, or fails to glance over his shoulder when he suddenly turns to step smack into me. I just smile at all of them.

I’m also trying my best to listen better to what others say and feel, realizing that their existence in the larger scheme is every bit as valuable as my own. Plus, it’s only through listening that we acquire knowledge about everything beyond our noses. In that regard, I also recognize that, to anyone else, I’m not the most important person because in the only set of eyes they have, the crucial person would be them.

It’s actually been helpful to remember that bit of reality whenever I’m sharing my thoughts with another, as they are continually processing my information as to how it will affect them. I call this my green egg.

In the continuing Easter-time effort toward hopefully resurrecting my better self, I’ve started trying my best to do at least one nice thing for someone else each day. If someone goes out of his way to help me or show a kindness, I try to find a way to show my appreciation. Hey, why not?

There’s a tree outside my lone kitchen window that attracts all form of birds, from jays to cardinals, blackbirds, doves and lots of those pretty, bright-colored finches.

Just watching these little creatures interact nowadays brings joy to my life. So I hung a feeder on the tree, placed a large plastic lid filled with feed on the ground beside it and draped a finch-feeder sack packed with thistle seeds on a shepherd’s hook. It’s truly amazing how studying how they interact with each other (and one squirrel) despite their many species brings such settled satisfaction to my own soul. And they never will realize that. This is my rainbow egg.

I’m also trying to forgive anyone who’s ever offended or stepped on me in various ways from writing negative letters to my employer (that they mistakenly believed were kept secret) to the older guy who walked up to me in Harrison when I was 15 and punched me in the face for no reason (must have been the sight of my hideous face that set him off).

We’ve all endured these people as part of weaving and dodging through life. But holding on to any of their actions only affects me in a negative way. So I strive to simply let it all go as part of my attempts at personal resurrection. Besides, it just feels so darned good to simply let go of any baggage we choose to carry around on our shoulders. That’s the blue egg.

In the evenings before sleep comes, I take a moment to recall all the good things that have happened in my life. The people I love, tranquil wade-fishing trips along Crooked Creek, Mom’s warm smile, those carefree teenage years, my first job in Newport followed by those raucous, fulfilling years in Hot Springs, San Diego, Chicago, Phoenix and the five-year teaching stint at Ohio State. I can still recall those fresh students’ face. It’s my purple egg.

There are so many fond recollections stored in my heart and mind that inspire happiness, far more than the negative experiences I choose to release. I suppose one might label such dismissal as denial. But believe me, there’s something good to be said for denial under the right circumstances.

Finally, I try hard nowadays to be more appreciative for everything I’ve been given, the most important of which are my health, family and friendships. That’s the brightest-colored egg any of us can possibly gather as we reach our end here, especially if we’re granted the gift of a few final moments to reflect upon what this life thing was all about.

Yep. It’s the golden egg.

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Mike Masterson’s column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at [email protected]. Read his blog at mikemastersonsmessenger.com.