Cleaver unto me . . .

Saturday morning. Coffee. Sofa.

When I was very young someone read me a story out of a big picture story book. I don't remember the name of the story, but I remember the pictures and the gist of the tale.

The picture I remember is a scene in a kitchen. There is a large wedge of cheese on a butcher block table. The ceiling in the kitchen is inexplicably low. So low, in fact, that someone had stuck the blade of a cleaver in the wooden ceiling above the wedge of cheese on the table. I don't remember how the blade came to be in the ceiling.

The part of the story I remember is a narrative of various members of the household coming into the kitchen, seeing the cleaver wedged in the ceiling above the cheese, and whipping themselves into a frenzy about the inevitable tragedy that was certain to ensue when the cleaver fell onto someone who was at the table trying to get some cheese.

After several pages of ridiculous predictions of mayhem and death resulting from the inevitable fall of the cleaver onto an unsuspecting cheese lover, another family member comes into the kitchen, reaches up, grabs the handle of the cleaver, gets a slice of cheese, and places the instrument of death back on the table.

I am sure there was more to the story, but that is what I remember.

I think I remember the story so vividly because I tend to be like the ridiculous family members who see a situation and assume that the worst is going to happen. The wisdom in this philosophy is that if you assume that the worst is going to happen and prepare yourself for it, you can never be surprised by disappointment. You maintain a bit of control. It actually works to a degree. There is somehow a limited amount of victory over disappointment if you can meet it at the door with a stoic face and declare "I knew you were coming."

But the problem with the philosophy is that disappointment wins far more victories by forfeit. I don't show up for the fight because I have already conceded the contest, games that probably could have, should have, been won by me.

So I'm going to try to change. To take a few more risks. To not wait for disappointment at the door but to go out, hunt it down, and stomp on it. To assume that things will work for good.

To reach up and grab the handle of the cleaver.

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