Even when we create miracles, sometimes the people who have asked for them aren’t able to receive them.
Life can be like that. And it’s frustrating. And somehow nearly amusing.
The smile hasn’t left my face in over an hour. It is an odd reaction, really, having just learned my major client will no longer be in need of my services.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Need and ability are too different things.
The client is no longer able to be in need of my services.
Despite the miracles created. Despite the level of effort. Despite the best foot put forward. Over. And over. And over again.
My mama never told me life could be like that. She alluded to it with the “Did I ever say life was fair?” adage. But if you tried really hard, knocked things out of the park, did your very, very best, people were bound to reward you for it, right?
It turns out life is not about fairness at all. It is about the events and the moments to which we respond.
And my response is this:
Causality in this instance is misleading. You may do exactly what people ask and then they change their minds. Just like that. You did not cause their reaction. Something else did. And there you stand holding a steaming hot pie, that you thought might be blueberry, wafting a delicious aroma throughout the room that suddenly no one wants. Even though you strapped on your boots and hiked to the Andes to retrieve the berries. And then harvested the wheat to make flour until your hands bled. And ground the flax seeds until they turned to oil. And chopped down a tree to fire up the wood stove. And bent the iron cast to shape it into a pie form.
And you baked it and tended to it and stood proudly as it bubbled syrupy to the top.
The pie is burning my hands now. And yet my smile lingers, as if an inner knowing said: “You’ve been set free. You never wanted to be a baker anyway.”
When great isn’t good enough. Yes, life can be just like that.