Too Easy

It’s pretty convenient to shove someone, and all the little idiosynchracies they come equipped with, into a box, lid shut and case closed.

We do it all the time. It does make life seem a lot tidier, when we can neatly label the boxes and store them in some dark corner of our memory without ever opening the lid
again.

Susan is really sweet but an airhead. The best thing about Cathy is her cooking. Miles can talk miles without listening for a second. Nick is obsessive, Mag a crowd pleaser, Lucy a prima donna.

Even if it’s all true, which it usually isn’t, and even if for a moment it gives us the feeling that we’ve got it all figured out, which of course we haven’t, and even if it would make life a whole lot easier, which ... Yeah, you got it ... it doesn’t. Even if all the ifs seemed reasonably real. It’s not a good idea.

And yet, if you insist on going ahead anyway, at least have the decency to punch some breathing holes into the box...or even better, remove the lid from time to time to have another look.

Life would be boring, if we had it all figured out. Freezing all the variables around us and buying a dog is not the solution.