We all bring something to the table. We all rush in the room, eager to sit down at the plentiful table, with clean hands and big smiles. We don't come unburdened though. We bring stuff with us. We all bring something to the table.
That is a phrase that is knocking around in my head a lot lately. "What you bring to the table." We all bring something different. We all bring bits and pieces of our past and assessments about the world and rose-colored glasses or clear lenses or maybe scratched ones. We bring our bruises to the table, our broken bones, our scars, our dried tears and our hunger. We bring our expectations and lay them out in front of us like neat napkins that used to be folded and tucked away. We snap them in the air and let them wave and expand like bird's wings ready to take flight.
I sit across the table from this person or that person, I sit at a very large table. It's long and has many people talking and laughing and staring at each other. These are people in my life right now, this time, this lifetime. These people are all bringing something to the table with them. They pull out a chair at my table and sit down. My children, my parents, my sisters, my friends, my lovers, my ex-lovers and my old battle soldiers that were seated both on my side and on the other side. We all sit there and expect something from the person to the right, to the left, across the table. We want something. We demand something. We ask for something. We have needs that need to be met.
Lately I have been coming to the table a little bit lighter every time. Every time the dinner bell rings and I drop what I'm doing and wash my hands, walk into the room, greet the people, pull out the chair and sit down ... I'm a bit lighter. I don't really expect that much anymore from anybody. I think maybe that's one reason why I'm a bit happier. The fist isn't as tight anymore and the hands are more relaxed lately.
I told my friend to try not to expect so much from her soon-to-be-husband because nobody is perfect. And we all bring something to the table. I just wish people would understand when I say to them that I can't always please them, and I can't always fix life for them and I can't always help them. Sometimes I need to mend myself. And sometimes I need to lighten my load and just enjoy the meal for a change. Nevermind all the tabletalk and bullshit. Some people drag a lot of stuff to the table with them. Some people have ropes of stuff that trail out the door and out to the barn and around the property way way way over the hill. No wonder they complain about being bogged down!
(written on 7/22/03)
