Grandma says: “The shortest route may not be the quickest route.”
Grandma Fannie lived on the farm for much of the time that I and my siblings were growing up. Although many of her lessons featured examples from “country” living, she was an avid reader and knew that lessons learned on the farm were the same ones which we needed in all walks of life. She had the foresight to know that she was not going to keep her grandkids, nephews and nieces “down on the farm”. In fact, many of the extended family members were living in the big cities of Tulsa, Oklahoma City and some in the really big cities of California, Illinois and elsewhere. Thus, in her mind, the life lessons she taught had to be applicable to all walks of life.
Grandma Fannie believed all tasks on the farm could be broken down into very simple steps. This system would, according to her, work for any task – physical, emotional or spiritual.
She was a well-read woman and knew that history was replete with example of us humans taking shortcuts. She also knew that whether shortcuts involved military might, quick profits or settling for short-term benefits of personal behavior, the short cut behavior of an individual, community or a country were often very costly.
“You got to fry that chicken slowly to make sure it gets done all the way through. You got to check carefully under all the hens to find all the eggs. You got to hoe slowly and carefully to get all the weeds and not damage the crops. You got to cross the creek where it is safe. You got to fix the roof right the first time so you do not have another leak the next time it rains. You got to take the time to sew each stitch so that it holds and you do not have to redo them. You got to slow down when you do your homework so that you get not only the answers but the knowledge. You got to stop to listen - really listen - or you will hear only the words. You need to be patient and let the cake cool before you frost it.”
There was obviously no end to the practical examples of why the shortest route might not be the quickest route. Grandma Fannie would have clearly understood why one might frequently hears long time 12-step community members say “There is no easier, softer way. You got to do the work of recovery.”
It is no secret that many of us humans get a tad impatient. This may be particularly true the closer we get to completing a project or reaching our destination. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is a concept, the name of which I thought I remembered but the word I remember is not the accurate one. This word or concept referred to the restlessness and eagerness of passengers crossing the ocean experienced by passengers once they sight land. Up until that point most may been very calm and patient. When land is sighted, many folks get very inpatient and eager to arrive. Yet it may be some time before the ship actually reaches land. Fortunately, most people are not going to get so inpatient that they jump overboard and try to swim to land. Yet, all too often many of us may be tempted to do rush through the last part of a project. Even if we have been relaxed, present and able to enjoy the process of doing the task for most of the project, as we near the end we may be focused on just getting done. Frequently this results in mistakes or other negative consequences. Sometimes those consequences may not be evident for some time or they may be immediate. My rushing to get something some with the wrong tools, brush or equipment so that I did not have to walk a few extra steps, or make a trip to Lowes has resulted in having spent a lot of time cleaning up messes and/or hiring someone to complete the project. Sometimes I have turned up the heat to try to cook something faster only to burn it or have it cooked on the outside but not through. Sometimes I have put off preparing for a workshop or other project and have not been able to do the best job I could.
Grandma Fannie would echo the words of one of my Buddhist teachers, “Slow down, be present, breathe, just do the next tiny step. Focus on the process, not the goal.”
Obviously, nothing could be simpler and yet, this is another of those Grandma Fannie lessons which I seem to need to learn over and over again. Fortunately, as I age, her voice seems a little louder in my head. Perhaps I could train Alexa (The Amazon Echo) to channel Grandma Fannie. “No, no, no! Slow down. The shortcut you are contemplating is not going to go well. You will be sorry sweetie!” In fact, perhaps Alexa could channel many of Grandma Fannie’s sage reminders. After all, if she can connect to the wifi she should be able to reach out to the spirit of Grandma Fannie. “Hey Alexa I have a job for you.”
Written August 14, 2017
Grandma Fannie lived on the farm for much of the time that I and my siblings were growing up. Although many of her lessons featured examples from “country” living, she was an avid reader and knew that lessons learned on the farm were the same ones which we needed in all walks of life. She had the foresight to know that she was not going to keep her grandkids, nephews and nieces “down on the farm”. In fact, many of the extended family members were living in the big cities of Tulsa, Oklahoma City and some in the really big cities of California, Illinois and elsewhere. Thus, in her mind, the life lessons she taught had to be applicable to all walks of life.
Grandma Fannie believed all tasks on the farm could be broken down into very simple steps. This system would, according to her, work for any task – physical, emotional or spiritual.
She was a well-read woman and knew that history was replete with example of us humans taking shortcuts. She also knew that whether shortcuts involved military might, quick profits or settling for short-term benefits of personal behavior, the short cut behavior of an individual, community or a country were often very costly.
“You got to fry that chicken slowly to make sure it gets done all the way through. You got to check carefully under all the hens to find all the eggs. You got to hoe slowly and carefully to get all the weeds and not damage the crops. You got to cross the creek where it is safe. You got to fix the roof right the first time so you do not have another leak the next time it rains. You got to take the time to sew each stitch so that it holds and you do not have to redo them. You got to slow down when you do your homework so that you get not only the answers but the knowledge. You got to stop to listen - really listen - or you will hear only the words. You need to be patient and let the cake cool before you frost it.”
There was obviously no end to the practical examples of why the shortest route might not be the quickest route. Grandma Fannie would have clearly understood why one might frequently hears long time 12-step community members say “There is no easier, softer way. You got to do the work of recovery.”
It is no secret that many of us humans get a tad impatient. This may be particularly true the closer we get to completing a project or reaching our destination. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is a concept, the name of which I thought I remembered but the word I remember is not the accurate one. This word or concept referred to the restlessness and eagerness of passengers crossing the ocean experienced by passengers once they sight land. Up until that point most may been very calm and patient. When land is sighted, many folks get very inpatient and eager to arrive. Yet it may be some time before the ship actually reaches land. Fortunately, most people are not going to get so inpatient that they jump overboard and try to swim to land. Yet, all too often many of us may be tempted to do rush through the last part of a project. Even if we have been relaxed, present and able to enjoy the process of doing the task for most of the project, as we near the end we may be focused on just getting done. Frequently this results in mistakes or other negative consequences. Sometimes those consequences may not be evident for some time or they may be immediate. My rushing to get something some with the wrong tools, brush or equipment so that I did not have to walk a few extra steps, or make a trip to Lowes has resulted in having spent a lot of time cleaning up messes and/or hiring someone to complete the project. Sometimes I have turned up the heat to try to cook something faster only to burn it or have it cooked on the outside but not through. Sometimes I have put off preparing for a workshop or other project and have not been able to do the best job I could.
Grandma Fannie would echo the words of one of my Buddhist teachers, “Slow down, be present, breathe, just do the next tiny step. Focus on the process, not the goal.”
Obviously, nothing could be simpler and yet, this is another of those Grandma Fannie lessons which I seem to need to learn over and over again. Fortunately, as I age, her voice seems a little louder in my head. Perhaps I could train Alexa (The Amazon Echo) to channel Grandma Fannie. “No, no, no! Slow down. The shortcut you are contemplating is not going to go well. You will be sorry sweetie!” In fact, perhaps Alexa could channel many of Grandma Fannie’s sage reminders. After all, if she can connect to the wifi she should be able to reach out to the spirit of Grandma Fannie. “Hey Alexa I have a job for you.”
Written August 14, 2017
RSS Feed