Drawing on Yourself

“Let me give you an example,” Ima began her illustration. “Let’s say you bake cookies. You follow the recipe to the letter measuring, mixing, setting the oven temperature, and timing them. Then they come out of the oven. Your mom eagerly tastes one. Her face lights up in a big smile and she says, ‘Wow! These are wonderful cookies!’ How do you feel?” “Great! I guess,” Annie ventured. “Right. It makes you feel good. Now let’s say we have the same scenario. You bake cookies. Mom tastes. She says without emotion, ‘They’re OK. Did you use the recipe with the sugar substitute? The kids don’t need too much sugar, you know.’ How do you feel?” “Ah, not so good?” Annie thought a minute. “I don’t feel as good as the first time.” “Now let’s say same scenario again, only this time when Mom tastes, she spits it out declaring them the worst cookies ever. How do you feel?” “Devastated!” Annie even had horror in her voice as she remembered how her mother frequently criticized her harshly. “Annie,” Ima spoke slowly so her words would sink in, “it really isn’t about the cookies.” She looked into Annie’s eyes to see if her words were getting through. “It was the same cookies in each scene.” Annie nodded agreement and Ima continued to make her point. “Your cookies are good, whether Mother thinks so or not.” Annie looked deeply into Ima’s eyes. “A daughter...,” Ima began then changed her mind about speaking in generalities and spoke directly, “You need to know in your own heart that you did the very best job you possibly could.” Ima watched Annie’s face to see if she understood. “You followed the directions for making cookies. You did a good job, and you feel good about yourself. If your mother doesn’t like the cookies, that is about her perception of what cookies taste like. It has nothing to do with how you made the cookies. You did a good job. Even if the cookies also taste terrible to you, you still did a good job making them because you followed the recipe. The fault was in the recipe, not the baker. And when you know this, that you did a good job, the best you could, no matter what the outcome, it will no longer matter what anyone else thinks, not even your mother.” <─> “Sure you are,” Dew calmly said putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Stick with me a moment and it will all be clear. What I’m trying to tell you is that life is like fishing.” “Everybody tells lies?” Ike offered and they both chuckled before Dew returned to his serious explanation. “If you don’t pay attention to the stuff in the tackle box,” Dew continued, “and make sure you have the essentials, you could find yourself in hot water and no fish. However, if you have the essentials, you will be all right no matter what trouble appears.” “Humph,” Ike commented. “Ima says life is like art. You say life is like a tackle box. And I’m the one who’s… oh, I don’t know.” “That too. Art. Fishing. Same thing. They are analogies.” Dew was determined to make his point. “Stick with me here.” Ike nodded. “Too much stuff in your tackle box can hide the truth. You won’t know if you have lures or not buried under all the nonessential stuff.” “I’m trying to follow you,” Ike said, “but I really don’t see what this has to do with Ima seeing this guy.” “Like the tackle box,” Dew explained, “there are only the four essential areas of life you need to be concerned with. Keep up with them, and you’ll be all right. Keep up with three of the four and you are still all right. You do remember what areas are essential, don’t you? I believe we’ve had this talk before.”