I’ve been complaining. My landlord’s lawnmower took a hit a few weeks back, and hasn’t been the same since. A concrete block hidden under tall grass was all it took. After that, even if I managed to get it started, it shook like a mangy dog and sounded like a pneumatic drill in agony.
After shlepping the hobbled beast to three different mechanics, looking first for parts, then for miracles, the diagnosis came in: the fork was bent beyond repair and the cost would be €500 (about $580) either to replace it or to repair it. Either way, I was at my wits’ (and my wallet’s) end.
That evening I decided to go on a “worry diet” and to simply suspend judgement. I thought, “let’s see how this thing plays out.” Call it a new mantra, if you will. Even though I didn’t know the way forward, I couldn’t – or wouldn’t – accept failure this time.
So the next day I’m at lunch with my friend Domenico. As I tell him about my latest fiasco, laughing despite myself, he reminds me that my Dutch neighbour had gifted me an old lawnmower the year before. Since I hadn’t had a place to put it, I had left it at Domenico’s house. I had completely forgotten all about it, and now here it was, a free lawnmower.
This is what happens when we change our mantra from self-pity to “let’s see.” We get to see beyond the problems, and surprise, surprise! the solution is often already at hand.
We just weren’t allowed to see it before!
Joy Biscuits 