The Box of Chocolates Analogy

Life is like a box of chocolates…What you want is that coveted caramel but you know statistically there are only two caramels in each box of 25 chocolates. The rest are filled with maple or fruit or some other fruitcake concoction you have absolutely no interest in.

You carefully scan the box for a caramel. You note size and shape and are able to eliminate a few nuts. You are then left with about 20 possibilities. Still, the odds are stacked against you. That’s a 1 in 10 chance you will get a caramel. But hey, you’ve seen a caramel before and based on past experience you might be able to sway the odds in your direction.

Through deductive reasoning you narrow it down to about four possibilities. Statistically that’s a 50% chance. Your selections are all square or rectangle and they are evenly scattered across the box. You make an educated guess, settling on the one that has all of the outside characteristics of being caramel. You chose and hesitantly take a bite and immediately realize it’s not a caramel.

Sometimes it’s nougat, which; depending upon one’s taste, is acceptable. I like nougat. It’s not too sweet and not too bitter. Granted it’s no caramel. Sometimes it’s toffee. For me toffee is so much better than caramel. In which case I’m thinking…jackpot! 

But, sometimes it’s maple-filled. Again it depends on taste. Some people like maple. I am not one of those people. Maple filling creates an immediate gag reflex. I have no choice but to spit it out.

Of course with a box of chocolates one can try again if they happen to get the maple. This is where the analogy ends and life is not like a box of chocolates.

A Stone In My Shoe

Day in and day out there’s simply too much to do. I plan my day while I’m sleeping. Sure I’m asleep, but my mind is racing about my next day’s “to do” list. I wake up every morning with this innate catalog of marching orders. As the tasks mount, the stress rises and gradually dissolves as each one is mentally scratched off the list. That, my friends, is a good day.

But what about those days when tasks creep in and derail my effort? With every mission accomplished two more take its place. Sound familiar? I call these irritants a stone in my shoe. A stone is anything that preoccupies me from my responsibilities.

Stones are a daily occurrence at the office. They come in all forms: technology malfunctions, a small crisis or an unscheduled meeting. I’ve learned to prioritize.

On the way home, traffic is a stone because it costs me valuable time. Walking in the door, more stones await. Running out of milk is a stone. A broken dishwasher is a stone. The sudden realization that my daughter needs a hard to find object for school that she neglected to tell me about is a stone.

Stones are also little irritants. As I head out to find that remote object someone cuts me off in traffic. I get to the store, find the coveted object and realize I’ve left my debit card in my other purse. I have to return home, get my card and drive back. These are all stones.

I hate stones. Where do these pesky stones come from and how do they keep getting in my shoes?

Well, as these problems mount I’ve learned to ask myself a few questions. Will I remember this dilemma in a week, a month, a year? Will this momentary annoyance change my life or affect those I love? If I can answer with a no, it’s not a problem at all. It’s just simply a stone in my shoe.

Stones are not worth the effort. They are too numerous, impossible to avoid and too minimal to leave a scar. But I find that if I hold on to the stones they mount into piles. Piles turn into overload and overload creates an inability to deal with the stones. This can inadvertently lead to stone-heaving.

And what happens when we heave stones? Someone’s likely to get caught in the cross-fire. I’ve learned not only to keep my stones to myself, but to avoid stone-heavers. I have enough of my own stones to field someone else's.

But overall, stones don’t bother me anymore. I’ve learned to live with them. I kick off my shoe, dump it out and move forward. I try not to collect or heave the stones.

Sure, tasks still mount and so do the stones. But stones aren’t worth my energy. The quicker I dismiss a stone, the quicker it dissolves and I can return my focus to what really matters.

So here’s the point…if 99% of my problems on a given day turn out to be stones, well then, it’s still a good day.