Life is Like a Box of Chocolates: Sometimes You Know What You're Gonna Get (78)

I am a silver lining type of person. I like to make sense of things. I have anxiety and a rare panic attack- but generally I am a positive person. I hate uncertainty, I really loathe surprises. Most importantly, I want the hard truth, tell me like it is, be honest and direct. Sweet, caramel- no extra flavoring needed.

Don’t shelter me from the harsh, light of day. This I am prepared for. Nothing was ever been handed to me, I had a tough time growing up with bullying and Dyslexia and as a result, I have thick skin. I stay calm in the face of turmoil and fear. I may have anxiety, but during a crisis- I am remarkably stable and calm. A hearty toffee, milk chocolate and nuts on the outside, crunchy goodness on the inside.

If I didn't practice Buddhism and mindfulness, however- I am not sure, I would be so positive. My daily mantra’s and intentions set the beginning, of my day. The repetition and maintenance of both, is my solid ground. I have to have a clear, succinct path. My mantra’s and intentions are the map that keeps me traveling, in the right direction. They are my reminder to be optimistic and purposeful. Buttercream, soft and silky. Smooth and mellow.

Most of the time, I adjust to social norms quickly. I smile, hold down meaningful conversations-yet I rarely strike them up. I tend to be quiet and in my own world. Currently, in this new situation, staying distanced, I feel more at ease in so many ways. 

Does this sound bad, that I like the distancing? I don’t miss the social interaction, yet. I like knowing there is a whole box of chocolates, waiting to be opened and enjoyed. Albeit, in a new format. I like the moment of silence, the time to think and innovate.

The connection with my students is going to be the biggest loss, for me. I love teaching. That is the one social adjustment I was happy to make-and every day they bring me joy. But I will continue to build relationships. Use on-line platforms to connect. Send mindfulness strategies and positive emails.

This is a temporary hiatus, from them, I hope. Fruit flavored gems of cherry cordial or orange, a bit of pop, yet reminiscent of stability. We may be separated, but we are still a class.

I am not a touchy-feely type of person- I rarely shake hands. I only hug my closest friends and family. I am a 'distanced' person already, for the most part. I don't mind small groups of people, but I tend to get anxious, if I have to be in a large group. I steer clear of holiday sales. I prefer to order on-line, even it costs a bit more. I not the peanut cluster, crowded with nuts. I am more of a chocolate covered Oreo.

Even faculty meetings are a bit overwhelming, for me. Too many voices and opinions, I guess. I hear every cough, every sniffle- every side-bar conversation, as the principal is speaking. I like to focus, but with the shuffling and whispers, I am easily distracted. Dark chocolate, coconut filled, it takes some focus, to make sure the bits, don’t get lodged in your teeth.

I am better on-line: no face to face, eye contact, with adults at least. When I am on-line, I can phrase my questions better. I can read rather than have to listen. Then I have a moment to process information and fortify a response. So, this whole quarantine, isolation strategy, works for me. As far as this is concerned.

I like the idea of some 'space.' But I want to be able to look my students in the eye and have meaningful conversations with them. Podcasts and Vodcasts will have to suffice, for now. With the distance also comes uncertainty. Will parents maintain a semblance of learning at home? It’s tough to get students to engage when they feel they are disconnected. What will the end of the school year look like? A variety box, self-chosen for the most meaningful experiences or a pre-packaged assortment?

With a great box of chocolates, now-a-days, you can choose your morsels. Pick and choose your favorites. Even a few new ones you’d like to try before you commit. When I was recently in Albuquerque, I went to my favorite chocolatier, See's Candies and had a 2-pound box created just for me. We don’t have them in Texas, so this was fun for me.

I haven’t opened the box yet. Somehow having an unopened box, keeps a certain level of anticipation alive. But also, in hindsight, a 5-pound box would have been better. I’d have extended comfort choices then. It is a sizable box, yet I know I won’t be visiting a store anytime soon, so I want to savor them. 

Funny how little things like a box of chocolates is a conundrum- do I start eating them now, or wait? Both comforting and distracting.

The juxtaposition of chocolate. Options: white, dark, milk. Fillings and assortments abound. Nuts or no nuts. Fruit or caramels. Butter cream or toffee. Hard or soft centers. Belgian, French or good old Cadbury’s from England. Chocolate is universal.

The style and individuality of a culture’s confectionaries are unique. Just walk down a candy aisle at the store or into a chocolate shop, the options and varieties are practically endless.

It’s a beautiful thing, choice. But chocolates haven’t always been this diversely available. The global market has bridged and connected us, in amazing ways. Obviously, chocolate being a minor one- and yet, a significant one as well. 

Chocolate is family. Chocolate is community. Chocolate is shared, given as gifts. Valentine’s Day love tokens, just one of many. Chocolate is a way to connect us.

In my childhood, we didn’t have the cornucopia of options, we have today. It was a time, when boxes were simply pre-packaged and put on the shelf. Some companies gave you a list, which was quickly lost, of the boxes’ contents. But, they were often put in the wrong slots- so it was an adventure every time a new box was opened.

Others made you wing it. Then, by the time, some of us got a hold of the box, there were only these half-eaten morsels, in each of the waxy, ridged paper wrappers. As a child I never got first crack, at the box. I got the leftovers. Generally, they were the nut filled ones, I couldn’t eat. So, the infamous quote in Forest Gump, hit home for me.

In all my adulthood, I have never gone into a chocolate shop and had a box created, just for me. So last week, among the rattling and separation of society, to be able to choose my favorites and get them packaged, in a pretty white box, was a treat. Well, simply put, it was kind of invigorating. A meaningful, personal experience. I felt I had a choice. I had control of something in my life, in a time where we all feel, very displaced and disrupted.

Looking at my unopened box of sweet, creamy, no nut-filled, chocolates. I hesitate to open them. Does that sound crazy? Maybe. But, a part of me wants to have that excitement last. The anticipation linger. Keep a little uncertainty, by choice.

While the rest of the world is in flux, maybe in the corner of my room- my new office and classroom for a spell, can stay childlike. It can hold a secret, only I know. That there is an unopened box of chocolates, that carry with them, the hope of normalcy. The subtle, unique gift of calm and focus, in an otherwise uncertain world.