Do You Know What You Need?

I could have titled this entry, "Read This, If You Know What's Good For You", but eh. The fact is, I don't always know what's good for me (or anyone else), unless I'm thinking in hindsight. It certainly is 20/20. Then what is foresight? Near-sightedness? I usually tend to think so.
On the other side, that is, the under side of thirty, I often couldn't manage to see past the next minute. I think it was an attention span thing. Now, that I'm a little more seasoned, I have days when I can see clean through to the next hour. I read more, now. An old professor once told me that reading would do the trick. It helps.
On my best days, I know exactly what I want from life, and exactly how much I intend to put into life to get it. I can see the purpose of getting up early, engaging in daily exercise for my health and what's left of my figure. I can see the purpose of regular dental exams, to hopefully retain all my original teeth, should I live to be my grandmother's age. I can see that the best looking guy in the room is not necessarily the best guy for me. I understand why people save for retirement and children's college funds. I can see the reason for shredding pre-approved credit card applications, and paying off bills on time. Did anyone else get those calls from Citibank warning that you'd wouldn't have good credit again until you were 30? Joke's on them. I didn't need good credit until I turned 30. I didn't want a mortgage, my own apartment, or a late model car until I had a real job. (Ha, ha.)
My grandma used to have a saying about her grandchildren, those of us who didn't know the real meaning of life of the value of work. Every time she'd have to dig in her bosom or under her mattress to pull us out of a tight spot, she'd say something like, "Umph, umph, umph." Picture her shaking her head at this. "My children. Work to buy what you want, then beg for what you need." This was her way of saying that we were so focused on what we wanted when we wanted it, that we couldn't see clearly enough to taking care of our basic needs. You know, stuff like gasoline money, food, rent. Then, she'd fork over the money. She was, and still is, the ultimate matriarchal fixer.
I'd usually comment something about how I just needed the right break to get the right job. I go on to complain about the woes of the recent college graduate working at a Taco Bell. "I don't need that kind of grief." She'd pretend to be listening, but really focusing on the new sneakers or outfit I'd be wearing. "I've got a college degree, for goodness sake. Forty thousand dollars says I'm better than this."
Then she'd remind me how that perfect job in the pie factory, her metaphor for sitting on my butt, leaning back in a chair, eating pie all day, was not likely to come along. She'd say that God has put me in that hell hole called the fast food industry for a reason. Okay, she didn't call it a hell hole. Then, apparently, He'd put me in the package shipping industry, tossing boxes during the graveyard shift. Later, there was a stint at the local chicken factory, a tool and die works, a paper company, which at that point was the closest I'd come to being a writer, and still later, mentoring and supervising hard-headed teens and very young adults. Lately, I'm in a job that takes me all over the world on a regular basis, and doesn't pay me squat for the trouble. A job, mind you, where all the wrong people are in charge; but I suppose that's a different blog entry.
To let her tell it, I was exactly where I needed to be at the time. In fact, I'm exactly where I need to be now. Somebody needed me then. Somebody needs me now. Or perhaps, I'm the one whose life needed or needs to be touched in a particularly way. Back to the Quantum Leap theory. "All things, in His time," she says. "Not yours."
I have days when I concede that she's right. She must be. So far, there's no pie eating job on the horizon. On these days, I remind myself that I need adversity, struggle, disappointment, and a little frustration and controversy to grow. There's a person whom I'm intended to be, whom I am still becoming. In the process, I'm helping others to become whoever they need to be. Yep. My grandma has a way of putting a nice spin on things. Of course, it helps that I believe in God, and His master plan, though at present, I'm not privy to what it is. I might as well be cool with that, and keep my plans flexible, as it seems that God is up there laughing at my plans.
I understand that many people don't believe in God or the concept of God, but this is what helps me make sense of things that otherwise make no sense. I mean, how else do you explain idiots being in charge of stuff, taking all the credit and none of the blame? (Oh yeah, that's for another blogging.)
However we choose to make sense of it, maybe it will help us to be conscious of the fact that what we want, is not always what we need, and what we need at certain times in our lives, will not always coincide with what we want. Taking occasional inventory of our needs and reconsidering our wants will likely unclutter our lives and make room for our real destinies. At the very least, doing so will keep us on the right track.