Flawed Premises

I recently returned from an amazing trip. I’m tempted to call it a trip of a life-time, but who knows… I might do it again.

I drove solo across the country to Washington State, to take a car to my daughter.

The land I passed through was beautiful in so many different ways – lush, barren, immense, wild, intimate.

Along the way, I had the joy of connecting with several friends, as well as the pleasure of staying in people’s homes through an online B&B service.

But one of those homes was, shall we say, less polished, than the others. The faucet of the kitchen sink wasn’t attached properly so when I turned it on, the whole thing moved, showing the hole that the water pipes came through. The toilet paper holder wobbled so that I had to take care not to lose the roll onto the floor, and there was a cracked lampshade.

Being tired from a long day driving, I was cranky, and got irritated by this seeming neglect. It took me a while to get back to a more comfortable frame of mind, and be able to appreciate the good – I was able to work on my computer at a dining room table with an interesting view out the window. I had a delightful neighborhood to walk in. I had full run of the kitchen to heat the food I had brought along, and a comfy bed to sleep in.

The next day as I reflected on that experience, I remembered a saying about how cracks in perfection are how light gets in and out.

Am I just as intolerant of my own “cracks” and imperfections?

This whole arena is about expectations – what I expected from places I stayed. I have a whole different set of expectations when traveling in India, and probably wouldn’t have been so bothered by these “flaws”.

Who says that lampshades shouldn’t have an extra uneven line where light peeks through? Who says faucets have to be bolted tight, when they do work after all? So what if the toilet paper had gone rolling across the floor? No harm would have been done. But there I was, judging the space and the owner, and getting myself into a place that didn’t feel good.

Who says everything I say or write has to come out “perfect”? Who says I have to voice my perspectives in ways that won’t ruffle anyone’s feathers? I’m learning, growing, human.

Hotel chains may be more predictable, have a sense of safety and sameness, but they “chain” us to the known and we can miss out on some juiciness.

Same with our own habitual ways of relating and Being. If we stay with the known and familiar, we’ll just get more of that and miss out on growth and expansion and joy.

Where do you play it safe?
What expectations are you chained by?
Which of your judgments of yourself or others or your surroundings might be based on flawed premises?
How might you cultivate an appreciation of What Is, no matter what?

These are questions I want to be growing with.

Will you join me?

Yours in joyous expansion,

Lois

PS Your reflections are welcome below…

PPS Here are a couple of photos from that trip…