The Salt Shaker

This morning I needed some salt.  Normallly I don't use salt on my food as I get more than my recommended amount from all the take-out and restaurant food I consume over the course of my week.  That said, today I wanted some salt and pepper on my boiled eggs. 

 

Pepper was not a problem, I found a big bottle and dispensed copious amounts on my plate.  I then reached across the table for the salt shaker only to find that it was empty.  Small empty dispenser in hand, I suddenly recalled that no one had bothered to fill the salt shaker for months as the opening had become so encrusted with salt that it became stuck.  I recall many weeks ago attempting to turn it with my bare fingers.  The lid did not budge.  Again I gave it another go, knuckles white and tense.  Again, no movement.  Not willing to give up, I reached for a tissue, thinking the added layer would give me a better grip.  Again, the lid did not budge.  I cursed.  Then I asked myself, "Do I really need salt on my eggs today?"

 

At that point, a quote often referenced during my yoga class popped into my head.  "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and hoping for a different result."  In fact, I had often thought of that quote in reference to others.  How clear it was to me when I looked at the travails of those around me and thought, "You're crazy!  You're doing the same thing over and over again and continue to be shocked that your life is the same.  That you meet the same mean people in relationships that parallel each other in amazing lockstep.  That you get into the same fights with your mate over the same nagging issues."

 

And there I was, holding the empty salt shaker, attempting for the 5th time to turn it with my fingers, the same thing I had tried to do weeks ago before deciding that my food didn't need salt after all. 

 

That's when I looked at my fingers and realized I needed a stronger lever.  Then I walked 20 steps to the cabinet in the hallway and grabbed the pair of metal pliers laying at the top of the tool pile, just waiting for its moment to be useful.

 

It took 2 seconds.  The lid came off like butter.

 

I was euphoric, amazed at how long it took me to come to such a simple solution and how little time it took to actually execute it.  I also realized that the power of wisdom is not how often you repeat the words to others or even to yourself but rather how often you actually physically and mentally implement it in your own life.  In the every day, simple things, like opening a recalcitrant lid.  It's those little things that continually speak to us, constantly trying to get our attention to tell us there's a better way to be. 

 

Or, we could just decide we don't need salt on our eggs that day.