Potato Peeler or Paring Knife? Which is Best?
The lady across from me in my office described an anxious situation she experienced every time she visited her parents for Sunday dinner. Mashed potatoes were usually on the menu and my client’s responsibility. The potato tool selection is when Potato Peeler Woman (PPW)’s anxiety took off.
“My mother,” she said, “believes—strongly—that potatoes are best cleaned with a paring knife and my father—equally strongly—thinks that a potato peeler is the best instrument. So, when I’m there helping with the meal, I stand in the kitchen with a pile of raw potatoes in front of me. A paring knife on one side and a potato peeler on the other. If my father walks in, I grab the peeler. If it’s my mother, I grab the paring knife.”
Me: “Hmm.”
PPW: “Well, Doc. This seems like a silly predicament for a person my age.”
PPW woman waited. Wasn’t this the part in this process where I was supposed to point out who was wrong and give some tips on how PPW can inform her parents of their immature behavior? At least I should have some ideas on how to 1.) stand up and let the world know what she thinks about potato peeling; 2.) get one or both parents to change; Or 3.) distance from these crazy people.
If I were still in my first anxious decade of clinical practice, I’d probably have jumped right in with how the potato peeling dilemma was the perfect setting to work out the kinks of her family and self-esteem. Had I been still an intern, heck, I’d likely ‘helped her out’ with my vote on the important issues regarding ethics and inefficiencies of peeling potatoes.
A couple of decades ago, I would have at least asked her where she stood on the peeling-paring-upcoming election dilemma. Maybe I’d foolishly tell her that it was important for her to ‘stand up’ announce where she stood on the issue. That it was so important for others to know how she feels just about all the time. Sheesh.
But I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now. Now I’d likely chuckle (respectively) at our common human nuttiness. “How do we do this to ourselves?” I’d ask. “How do we get so tangled up trying to decide who’s right or wrong on an issue like potatoes?”
“How do we get so excited thinking our opinion matters so much? That the other person’s recognition of opinion is critical to self-esteem or caring? When did we decide the other person had to change for us to enjoy their company?
(You can arrange your life this way. There are cruises you can take which guarantee that there will be no one on-board who doesn’t feel just the way you do about the election and probably the right way to peel potatoes.)
Today, I’m thinking the Woman with the Potato Peeler dilemma would giggle with me and applaud her strategy. We’d have time to ponder other issues. And, just maybe, she’d notice next time she was using a silly sticky spot to distance in a relationship.
“If you do not take your life seriously, it’s not worth living. If you only take your life seriously, it’s not worth living.”
