PACKAGES

  I would venture to say that most people love receiving packages. Delivered. USPS. Left by the doorway. Anyway, it is exciting and brings out the child in all of us. Even when we know the contents, still, to open and see what you ordered, it's here, it's a great and universal feeling. That is, of course, providing it is not a delivery of ominous content such as IRS, disappointing contents, and such.

However, there are other packages. These packages are not warmly welcomed. In fact, most of us complain re these 'packages', feel much put upon by them, and wish them gone. We often feel cheated, oppressed, upset by them and their apparent unfairness. We wonder why it seems that we are the only ones getting a package of such type.

Well, folks, having heard of many of these packages being delivered to people I know, love, and respect, here is my sincere advice. Accept these packages as part of life and value yours, rate its presence far better than the package delivered to your friend or neighbor. Even when the package is most debilitating, nothing good about it, understand that there is always, always, someone out there with a worse package. Take yours, as miserable as it might be, and go home with it. Deal with it. Prepare for its consequences. Think about what it means for your life. Understand it, if it can be. Live the best one can. And know, that the person, family, group, that seems non stick, all problematic packages seemingly sliding off, has packages you might be ignorant of, but behind those closed doors, something is always going on. And understand that there are packages from which there is no return envelope. It is yours to keep on a permanent basis, like it or not. The truth is, one has to deal with it the best one can and turn for aid from whence it can come. Harsh , but reality. Cry and then cry again. That is okay, but do not allow it to harm your responses, the necessary actions that must take place. 

"We were so sad, we were tired, we were cold, we had gone without food for days, we were faint with - we were not even sure if we were hungry or not, because it goes away, I do not know if you ever....Thankfully, you will never know, oh G-d, please may you never know." (Survivor)

Yes, we get hungry, we say we are starving, perhaps even have had to cut down on food intake for various reasons, but the package above... may it long,  forever, remain far away from us, and indeed from all. Yet it does not. That package gets delivered, is being delivered to myriad numbers of people round the world. Why? Because some packages within people were and are misdelivered, forcing others to share, unwillingly, in the results.

Those packages are life debilitating and life threatening, to the point of no return. Luckily for us, yes, luckily, most packages are not of that depth and power and oftentimes there is a route for aid, for advice, for dealing with that nasty package. Sometimes not. But trust me, when you then look within, seek out the packages in your life, you will say to yourself, "I will keep mine, as bad as it is."

Being human, we get wrapped up so in our own package contents that we forget that life goes on, that we must prepare for what life hands us, handle that which is 'unhandleable". Everything other than the most critical of times such as the Holocaust victims and their package, can be handled. Even the knowledge of impending permanent result, such as death, such as strong changes to lifestyle and abilities. Even the unbelievable can be approached with some sort of plan, for did not at least some survive the Holocaust, the 'modern' day camps, the genocidal tendencies of people, the constant attacks on our way of life, our rights, our power and ability to hope and prepare for a future.

We must also remember that there are good packages, some presenting themselves with surprise. Precious newborns. A child who blossoms, finds him/her self, a recognition of one's value at work, a promotion, a long held wish being fulfilled. Even better, the two varieties of packages can be intertwined, appreciating the one and working on the other. Hard. Almost impossible. Often impossible. But packages can have alleviating factors applied even as they burn its cruel way through our lives. 

Think not, readers, that I speak whereof  I know not. I watched my whole life as my parents were hit with one facet or another of a package that would not stop delivering. They dealt with it, moved on, and built a wonderful life filled with love and success. As we too are handed some very unwanted packages, knocking  on the door,  we too must  learn to handle those packages and their accumulated and growing weight in and on our lives. Hard. Harsh. But when I look around, see the packages others have received, I feel for them even as I thank G-d, appreciate that mine is a tad less intrusive, more hopeful perhaps, easier to deal with, to make accommodations for. Whatever. The point of all this verbiage, is take your package and deal with it, run with it, work on it, and always, always, never give up. There is always a better way to work these packages even when to see that is most difficult.

While I certainly do not very much appreciate some of my delivered packages, I also very much value other packages. Even the bad has some good as I find a sudden and most unexpected interest, perhaps even a talent of some small quantity, in the world of wood and the joys of running a paintbrush on a blank surface, and finally seeing something, a result. Not to ignore the inner satisfaction as well, as I open myself up to new thoughts, new experiences and experiments. No, that does not include sky jumping! My sanity remains intact!

Packages and life. Sometimes to be received with open arms. Sometimes to wish be gone. Some handled with more ease while others are just about impossible. The only way forward is to be angry, or glad, or mixed, and then face reality. Do what must be done, what must be changed. Live life the best one can, even under great stress. A smile works better than tears. Laughter is indeed the best medicine, even if temporary.

The little boy in The Music Man sang gleefully, voice raised in expectation of the wonderful packages on that Wells Fargo delivery truck. Would it not be nice to have that optimism that all packages are good. We know that is impossible, but we must, must, find something within, even the appreciation of what we once had, and empower ourselves to move on, to act, to love, to live.

May all our packages be good ones.