Held Together By a Paperclip

Did you ever feel like some aspect of your life was being held together by something as small, untrustworthy, and awkward as a paperclip?  Like, your temper?  Your health? Your family?  Your finances?  Your career?  Your mental health?  How about your wardrobe?

Yeah - that last one was supposed to be in there. And of course, there's a story.

 Last week I was running behind (now there's some news!) trying to get my tookus into town and see some clients.  You'd think that since I really don't have anything else going on in my life in terms of activities, I'd be able to allot myself ample time to drive to Pixley from this lovely hamlet of Hooterville (if you don't understand that reference, you are way too young), dodge students randomly crossing the street in front of me even when they clearly  have the big red hand on their "walk" lights, get the car parked and get down to the office.   Before the clients do, that is.  But as is typical I was, as I said, running behind.  Probably due to the competitor in me not being able to leave behind a game of Words With Friends before I made a stellar move.  But I digress.  So I am under the gun, and trying to find some clothes that fit. (And that's another story.)  So I grabbed a camisole top I received for Christmas but have never tried on, threw on my oh so stylish (read approximately 8 years old) blouse over top of it and a pair of pants.  .....only to find that the cami is rather large and because of it, rather more revealing than anything my clients would have the stomach for.  So I set about scavenging for safety pins to shorten the "straps" thereby covering regions needing cover.  I found one safety pin quite easily - it was on top of the refrigerator.  OF COURSE IT WAS!  Because that's where safety pins belong, isn't it?  Don't even ask.  I thought the other one was on the coffee table - the second most logical place for a safety pin, as you know.  Nope - not there.  As the big hand on the clock was creeping ever more steadily to the point of ridiculously late, I grabbed the only thing I could find which was.....you guessed it - a paper clip!  Clipped that baby right up, threw the blouse back on and hightailed it to town.  I don't THINK I ran over any students on my way up College Avenue.  I wish I could put my "Get out of my way - I'm in a huge hurry" face onto the hood of my car.  Maybe it would help.  Probably not.  So I squeal into the parking garage and make my way to the office building, in the door, up to the office, turn on the lights, unlock the closet so that my necessary supplies are at hand, and go back down to the door to let the clients in.  And all the while I'm thinking, my clothes are held together with a paper clip.  I wonder if they can tell?  The session begins and I'm doing my job but a little voice inside my head is saying "look at you all calm and smiley - you're being held together by a paperclip!!!  They think you have the answers....you look all professional (well not really - not in THAT outfit) and wise - and YOU'RE BEING HELD TOGETHER BY A PAPERCLIP!!"  It's an annoying little voice, actually. 

But that's not the end of it.  I grabbed that same shirt the next night to change into because I had a dinner date after a meeting.  You'd think that I would have taken time that day to 1.  stitch the shirt into an acceptable position.  2.  throw it in the dryer to shrink it   3.  find the other stupid safety pin.  4.  gotten out the duct tape.  But NOOOOOO.  I went out to dinner still being held together by a paper clip!

In the aftermath of those little events I got to thinking that life sometimes feels like that's all that's holding us together, doesn't it? 

I have a friend who is battling breast cancer.  I bet she feels like that sometimes.  Despite the countless prayers and encouragement she is receiving from family and friends and her very strong faith, I can't help but wonder if she feels like she is relying on a teensy little piece of metal to get her through.

There are people whose plates are so full and the stress and the rage are boiling very close to the surface. Angry words are spoken, feelings are hurt, damage is done.   Enough temper there to melt something so insignificant as a paper clip.

Someone comes close to losing their job over misconstrued interpretations and every attempt to address the problem becomes a further descent into a muddy pit.  The devastation and discouragement are barely held at bay and fear is creeping in and grabbing hold.

You can probably think of lots of things families encounter.  Marriages where there is no love left, if it ever was there in the first place.  Kids with behavior problems.  Caring for elderly or ill parents.    A loved one struggling with mental illness.  Coming home with the pink slip.  Even a surprise invoice from the mechanic.  Any number of things can make us feel like we are just one paper clip away from disintegrating into a million pieces.

And we press on.  Trying to look cool, calm and collected in our spiffy blouses and snazzy suits with carefully coiffed heads and manicures - or whatever speaks "I've got this - I'm good" to each one of us......and trying to smile and be positive, because we are told that nobody likes to be around negative people......and we are hoping that nobody else can see our paper clip.

I really like the thoughts of a couple therapists I know. 

One said  "We enter this life screaming from the womb and we enter the grave still screaming.  And somewhere in between we try to find a way to do some good, to make a difference."  (to avoid any hint of plagiarism, that is a paraphrase of what he said and I don't even know if it was his original thought, so be gentle with me).  

The other one said, (again, probably a paraphrase from someone else) "This life is like a big pasture.  And we are here to help each other stay out of the cow plops."

I say, it's ok that you're having a paper clip day.  But if you need me to, I'll find your other safety pin.  And set your clock 15 minutes ahead for you.  Because most likely, I need someone to do the same for me.