Assumption: You like to eat Mars Bars
Yesterday I bought a Mars Bar. I left it on the kitchen counter. It was gone within 24 hours. Each time I swung inside the kitchen I saw it there, waiting. A joyful image. Last night, at the witching hour, I devoured it. A swift gluttonous act, the kind one saves for nights alone so as not to repel onlookers. Let’s call it the ‘Here’ Mars Bar for the ‘I see it – I like it – I want it’ impulsive kinds (see Call of the Croissant).
I could have placed it in my ‘Secret Stash’ draw, (yes, I have one already). That ‘out of sight, out of mind’ place that offers greater success for postponement of the inevitable. A crucial resource for full moon mania, or work day crises that have us scrambling for the draw in a ‘resistance is futile’ flurry. Knowing it lies silently in wait creates a whole other feeling of joy, especially for those who merit exercised self control. Let’s call this the ‘Hidden’ Mars Bar for the pleasure postponers.
Now let’s imagine a third option. Someone has put a Mars Bar in your house (partner, cleaner, whoever) and placed it in a kitchen draw that you rarely open. It could sit there for days, weeks, possibly months, without you knowing. Let’s call it the ‘Heady’ Mars Bar.
So imagine this feeling? Craving a Mars Bar, unable to venture out to make the purchase, yet ignorant of the fact that one lays within a hair’s breadth of your reach.
Isn’t this like joy in life? Whether through our children’s laughter, the smell of freshly ground coffee, or the feel of a lover’s touch, we extol the sensuous. Just like the Here or Hidden Mars bars.
Becoming more conscious of what we call ‘this lifetime’ surely involves pondering the Heady Mars Bar planted in our kitchen. Call it God, or Love, or Spirit, or something bigger than our Self. Like the sun on a cloudy day, if we don’t see it does it mean it’s not there? Easy to forget about its splendor when we don’t feel it’s warmth, see it’s full light.
My point is not to go on a Mars Bar hunt of your home but rather to consider the possibility of its presence. Maybe it changes nothing for you. But what if, by happenstance you suddenly found something you really wanted and realized it had been there all along? You’d just never seen it!