This apple on a string game is fantastically hard. You win by biting the apple without using your hands. Tito signed himself up for this game at a local harvest festival this past weekend. All of a sudden, there he was, hands behind his back, head rolling under and beside and around the apple, twirling his body around and around and around.
He’s one persistent guy. Except for when he isn’t. I love that he did this for persistence sake. It certainly wasn’t for the apple which he distractedly passed off to me as soon as it was liberated from the string.
I have decided, somewhere along the way, that persistence is good. It’s admirable to persist. At certain things, right? Yet, certain kinds of persistence is bad. Persisting in something I don’t want you to do is bad. Persisting in something I do want you to do is good. It’s silly, really. But human. This instant assigning of judgment.
I love that Tito persisted in this apple/string game. I felt proud of him. I decided, in a split second without even consciously meaning to, that his persistence displayed healthy self-esteem, a zest for life, for enjoying the silly fun and challenge of the task. He didn’t give up, even when he discovered it was nearly impossible. And then, to top it all off, he succeeded. Yay!
I don’t need to worry about that, about the things that make me feel good about him. It’s the things that make me feel bad or worried, angry or aggravated, with him, or anyone really, those require a closer look. But only if I don’t like feeling those things (which I don’t) and only if I’d rather find a different way to communicate (which I do).
It sounds unrealistic, doesn’t it? Setting myself to an impossible standard? I don’t know. I’ve been reading Byron Katie, about her Inquiry, about The Work. And all I can say is, I’ve been bitten by the desire to try.