Remember, our goal is to work toward improved emotional functioning…to have our actions (inward and outward) be more and more determined by our Best Thinking…that is our Thinking Guidance System…and less and less have our actions determined by emotional pressure from other people or from within ourselves…our Emotional Guidance System.
And this continuing example represents one, feeble psychologist’s reminder of how tough efforts toward maturity can be. My goal is that my own humiliating lack of mature functioning will inspire some other soul to do better…
Dateline: Chicago O’Hare. Second leg of re-routed trip to Columbia, South Carolina. (See ‘A Case of Attempted Maturity at 30,000 Feet’).
Technically, the journey to Columbia was supposed to be completed three hours ago, and I was supposed to be enjoying a club sandwich and a glass of iced fume blanc from room service. But, I’ve adjusted. I’m doing great. I’ll make good use of having an extra three hours in the airport. I’ve proved something to myself and, hopefully, showed you guys what can be done if you give your Thinking Guidance System a chance. After several determined minutes of repeated saying to myself: “While the changes in my plans… are unfortunate, uncomfortable, and inconvenient ….this is not a disaster unless I decide to make it one….” I was almost giddy, I felt so ‘in charge’ of my emotions.
I enjoy a sandwich while standing since no chairs are available in the jammed food court. But, I’m cool. My special person called on his way to the basketball game, asked me how I thought it would turn out, and I LAUGHED and remarked I was sure it would be great fun. There had been a pause, then he asked, “Wow. Where did you get this enthusiasm, missing the game and all yourself?”
Not knowing what awaited, I twittered back something nice, something airy and sophisticated, showing off my hard-fought managing of my Emotional Guidance System.
United Express 6960 boards right on time. Swell. Things are looking up, I pat myself on the back for handling the inconveniences of air travel with the maturity of a guru. I smile at my fellow travelers. Behind me are two young men heading to Ft. Jackson for basic training and then to who-knows-where. I thank them for their service. One, we’ll call him Arnold, since he’s joining the Army, mentions that he’s never flown before. His seatmate from the same small Ohio town, cuffs him on the back. I add reassurances….because I’m such a seasoned and easy-going flyer. Because I can read the future and everything’s going to be just fine, I say, motherly like.
Army Arnold is the first one of us to crack after we’d sat unmoving, the door not closed for over an hour. “What if something wrong with the plane?”Arnold asks. “Oh, not to fret,” I say. ”This kind of hold-up happens all the time. They can make up the time in the air.”
“Good,” Army Arnold says, because they have a bus to catch and a two-hour ride to Ft. Jackson. “Not to worry,” I patter on, “you’ll be there before midnight.” Now right here, some sort of survival instinct should have kicked in. Why do I have to make things worse for myself by talking about things I know nothing about?
Ten minutes later, the pilot, Positive Pete a voice who I will come to know well, comes on to ‘update’ our adventure party. It seems the airport computers usually sending pre-flight data are down…Thus, the needed paperwork, as we speak, is being hand-carried… and, as soon as the paperwork arrives, we’ll be off in a jiff. Of course. This is not a disaster…unless I decide to make it one.
That word, ‘jiff’… a jiff. A JIFF. So innocent, so reassuring. Our flight attendant, Denial Danny, passes out free granola bars. Now, I’m not bitching about the granola bars….it just seemed a bit of a reach when Denial Danny’s emphasized the word ‘free’ as if an ounce of sugared oats should make us even with the airline for being late. …Sometimes, late at night, in one of my many branch Hiltons…a cruel voice calls to me out of the darkness…taunting me with just one word over and over. JIFF.
