Grains of Rice

   A very long time ago, when I was in my mid twenties, I was struggling with just about everything imaginable. I had an illness that resulted in temporary kidney failure, my marriage had just failed, and I was struggling with what I would do with my life and who I was going to become.

    Sounds dramatic right? When you are twenty, everything is dramatic. We somehow believe that we will make some grand decision and that is who we will become. We believe that we will make a choice in college and that is what we will do for the rest of our lives. It's no wonder that we drive ourselves half mad.

     In the midst of this drama of trying to heal, trying to keep my job, attend classes and simply recover, I was given some very good advice.

     For about a week, I found that I just could not shake the "ick" feeling. I was whiny, complaining, miserable with others and worst of all, miserable with myself. I saw doom and gloom in everything.

     I mentioned once that I was having a bit of trouble "shaking it off" and someone told me that I should pay attention to the little things.

     Of course, I thought they meant the trees, flowers, running water, you know?

      "The brain controls everything. It controls every breath you take, it controls your thoughts, it controls your comfort level."  He began.

      Uh huh, but I didn't feel like I was in control of my brain. That was kind of the problem.

      "The little things can add up to big things very quickly like the story about the rice on the chessboard. You begin with 1 grain of rice on the first square. You place 2 grains on the second square and so on. By the time you are at the tenth square, you have 1023 grains of rice and 54 squares left to go. By the time you reached the end of the squares, you would have used about  461,000,000,000 metric tons of rice." He took a breath as I wondered how this pertained to my situation.

     "You have a certain number of things going on that are beyond your control. Those are the grains of rice that you must accept. You must carry them for now. There are other things that you can control. You read articles about starving children and diseases in other countries and those weigh on you. You watch sad, scary or intense movies, and those weigh on you. You need to pay attention to those things right now and not accept the additional grains of rice. When you have a choice, fill your time with something hopeful and joyful."

     This sounded ridiculous to me. My problems were so huge. My burdens seemed so overwhelming, a movie hardly seemed like it would make a difference.

      "When you have moved the other grains out of the way, you will feel more like yourself, after about a week of intentional clearing, you need to volunteer to help someone in a worse situation than yourself."

      It seemed like that last part would just be another burden... I nodded politely.

     I really did not have any intention of following the advice. I really didn't intend to even give it any further thought.

       His words echoed in my mind when I sat down to watch TV. I scrolled through the menu and found myself skipping past the murder mysteries and dramas to comedy.

       The next few days I was more aware of my choices. I was more aware of when I could bypass the grains of rice just a little bit more.

      By the end of the week, I casually thought, "Okay, now to find something to do to help someone in a worse situation."

      I found something. I found something perfect. I did not walk away with a feeling of "Oh, suck it up, it could be worse, you could be like that person."

      Instead, I was surprised at how good I felt. It wasn't that I somehow felt better than that person. I didn't. It wasn't that I felt like I had been lifted of my burdens. I didn't. Those burdens were still there.

      I had something better from that experience. Yes, some things seem insurmountable. Some things seem beyond the scope of reason. I did not cure that person. I did not rescue them from their circumstance. I did not make it all better with my small gesture.

      Instead, I felt like I had removed one tiny grain of rice. It really wasn't so significant, except that I could see the possibility. I could see that one tiny grain of rice could add up to so much more. I could see that I had been a part of relieving someone of their 461,000,000,000 tons. I could see that every tiny thing makes a difference.

      I will always be grateful for that week. I will always be grateful that I told someone how I was feeling. That person was a math and engineering major. I had no way of knowing just how profoundly math could affect my every day life for years.

     Now, many years later, I still keep this bit of wisdom in the back of my mind when things are more challenging. If you see me flying a kite when it would seem that I have much more important things to deal with, it might just be that I am removing grains of rice from my chessboard.