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| How do your plates stack up? |
In today’s society, where the sky is the limit and the
possibilities are endless, how does one manage to make the right decision, feel
confident making that decision, and move forward, even if it wasn’t the best
choice?
Earlier this week I was at a sushi bar–conveyor belt
style–where (not unlike life) the possibilities were endless, and you had to go
with your gut instinct, work fast and make a decision (on which plate to
choose) before the option passed you by. At the end of lunch, my friend turned
to me looking at her stack of empty plates and said, “I didn’t make good
decisions.” I inquired “Really? It all looked really good and mine was good.” She
signed “Well–they weren’t bad decisions–they were just alright decisions–but
overall it was good.”
The sushi conveyor belt (just like life) responds to all
different approaches to making tough decisions on impulse. Some people sit and
stare as the multi-colored plates holding all kinds of wrapped fish, seaweed
and rice, as it circles around and around. Some look nervous and intimidated,
as though the plates might bite. Others take a long time looking over the menu,
planning their lunch, and deciding in what order each plate will be eaten.
Others grab and stash, taking as many plates as they want, mixing and matching
without a care in the world. Some rely on advice, help from a friend, a chef
special, or a recommendation. And some choose based on the color–or appearance
(or in my case, what looks kind of recognizable or familiar). With sushi, you
can go with what you know, or you can risk everything to try something new. It
is the perfect meal for a familiar favorite or an adventure into the unknown.
As the conveyor belt continues to circle, you might see the
perfect plate of sushi coming your way, but somehow you manage to get
distracted, you flinch, and you can’t decide. In the end, you let it go. The
only hope that you have is that the plate comes around again, and if it
doesn’t, you hope something like it does (and scold yourself saying, “I should
have taken that plate”). Hopefully a nice person took it. In the end, some of
the sushi rolls are better than others. Every taste bud is different, but we
took our chances when we reached for the conveyor belt and held the chopsticks
up to our mouth. And as all the plates begin to stack up, there is no going back,
no should have, could have, or would have. We made our choice–the plates don’t
lie.
You can begin to see why the sushi conveyor belt is a
metaphor for life. Over sushi we tried to tackle the hard questions: Is this
the right time? Is this the normal thing to do? What is normal? Does this feel
right? When? How? Now? We discussed the (real life) advice, the specials, the recommendations, the
must tries, and the personal experiences, that we received from others. We
complained about the “bad plates” the rough days, the hard stuff (the cracks,
and breaks), and the setbacks. We wondered about the future–down the line
(after all our plates stacked up) how will we feel? We pondered choices,
options, decisions made, and decisions in the making. As the lunch hour times
out, we pay for our plates–both at lunch and in life. As for the plates that
life throws our way–maybe at a much bigger price–but there is always more where
that came from.
This cup is for Jfro (who can juggle the most plates of anyone I know)
and for Caitlin (who encouraged me to write this up for my blog and who always has a full plate of cool things going on)
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