Monday, June 29, 2015

The Carelessness in Crumbs


I dropped something under my desk. I didn't mean to drop it - obviously no one intends to commit a delicious plantain chip to the carpet instead of to their belly - and isn't it always, alwaysalways, the best chip that falls? The most circular, perfect plantain chip, expertly salted and d e l i c i o u s?

I'm starving, can you tell?

This is when I discovered that there are ants in my office. Because the sequence of events happened like so:
Open bag of plantain chips
Eat several plantain chips
Accidentally drop a plantain chip
- world explodes with e-mails, phone calls and !!!!!!!s -
Remember that I dropped a plantain chip
Look down and see that there are ants taking advantage of my forgetfulness
Say, "Ohmygosh, EW."
And the ants descended upon my lonely plantain chip like sharks on a whale carcass. And my first thought was, "GROSS." And my second thought was, "Look how I've blessed these little buggers," (as I squished them with a paper towel because gross). And then my final thought on the ants and the chip was, "I've got to be more careful about the crumbs I leave behind." 

I have to be more careful with my crumbs. 

Care-full

Wherever we go, with everything we say, there are crumbs of our conversations and our actions are left behind in our wake. Yes, I should be more careful about the plantain chips I let fall to the floor, because this is my office and it's sandal season and fire ants are a vicious pox on exposed toes, but I should probably also just take my food to the dang break room, because I am here to work and not to snack and this is my office and certain things belong here and certain things do not. 

There is a time and a place for things. 

My attitude, my reaction, my words about that person/place/thing/situation/relationship/obligation/e-mail chain is going to carry over, like little crumbs riding from meal to meal, or worse, they'll fall to the ground and someone who was never intending on eating that for lunch is going to feast on those crumbs. 

And like my dad always says, "The law of unintended consequences is always in play." It doesn't matter what I meant to happen - it matters what happened. Not what I meant to say, but what the words were that actually exited my mouth.

All the more reason to be care-full. Full of care and consciousness of my conversations. Of the crumbs I leave behind.