Despite the fact that it was a chilly day, the intensity of the sun streaming through the thin atmosphere nearly blinded him as he narrowly avoided a car in reverse on his way into the store. He had never been to this store before – in fact, he had never even noticed it until today – but the timing worked out well because he (the Provider) had a lot to pick up before heading home for the evening. He nearly laughed out loud when he saw a man a little larger than himself walk past him pushing a shopping cart that looked like it belonged to a dwarf (or perhaps a very large child), but then his laugh caught in his throat when he realized that there was only one size cart available and he would have to adopt the same ridiculousness if he didn’t want to have to carry everything himself. So, reluctantly, he grabbed one of the miniature carts and scooted into an aisle where he would (hopefully) be less on display.
This time, his wife had not provided him with a list and he was on his own in figuring out how to provide for her and the kids. He glanced up toward the top of the aisles, looking for signs indicating which aisle items were in, to try and get his bearings. The name of the store – “Provisions” – hung directly in front of him on bold display. Unlike his usual grocery store, this store guided him to a particular starting aisle, like an airport barricade. He meandered along, annoyed by the size of the cart and now the front wheel, which refused to turn straight. He gave it a forceful push and kicked at the stubborn wheel, and when he finally got it to run smoothly, he glanced up and realized he was already halfway down the aisle.
Looking up, it took him a moment or two of glancing around to realize he didn’t recognize a single item on the shelves around him. He wasn’t an expert of grocery stores by any means, but normally, the first items he saw were produce and bread. But Instead of bananas and Nature’s Way, he was surrounded by boxes with new age-y labels. What the hell …? He glanced around, irritated, expecting to see a display of incense or bamboo clothing. But the only thing at the end of the aisle was a sign that read “Priorities.”
He pushed the cart along (now the blasted wheel was squeaking) and attempted to make the u-turn into the next aisle. But a young woman with purple highlights stopped him. “You can’t pass without priorities,” she said. “What?” he asked. “Priorities.” She pointed behind him. Confused, and now a bit worried that his wife would lay into him for failing to fulfill the list, he returned to the Priorities aisle and grabbed a few things just so the purple-haired girl would let him pass.
The aisle she had been guarding, “Self-Care,” was one he could relate to a bit better. In fact, he almost sighed with relief when he saw the sign. He was familiar with the concept; it was something he was always trying to perfect. He had climbed so long, grasping at every handhold, but higher walls gave him more fear when he looked down. And he climbed a higher one each time; it would be an embarrassment to regress. After the long, hard climbs (which he justified by telling himself they were necessary to support the people he loved), he would collapse, sick with exhaustion and sometimes fever, grasping for ibuprofen so his brain and emotions could function again. And since it was well-known that you can’t take it with you when you die, he told himself his self-care purchases weren’t unreasonable considering what he had given to the world – not just the hours at work, but to the charitable causes and lineup that he was sure would give his kids more of an edge in life.
He started perusing the shelves, looking for a pre-planned vacation package; they hadn’t taken one in a while. But he couldn’t seem to find one. In fact, none of his usual self-care methods were on the shelves. Confused by what he didn’t see, he decided to move on to “Spouse.” He was intent on finding some way to pay to take things off his wife’s plate…he owed a lot to her. Her stopper knots had kept him from crumpling at so many points in his climbs; he didn’t have the stomach for free soloing and she thankfully never asked him to. His heart ached when she said she couldn’t face another hour with the kids, or when she acted like she was possessed by housework. He mentally created a list of what he could buy to make her life easier…make up for her being so overwhelmed. Perhaps something pretty to show his love. But the whole aisle was one product – presence. He threw it in the cart. A misspelling, maybe?
In “Kids,” he started regretting his agreement to stop and shop on the way home. He had no idea what she needed him to get for them. Quickly, he pulled out his saboteur and typed out a quick text. Lantern consciousness and high temperature searches, she replied. With no idea what these were, yet somehow seeing them in boxes on the shelf in front of him, he grabbed a few. Then another ding – an afterthought – Space for opinion. He grabbed that too, along with “success,” checking the ingredients as she had taught him but not really understanding the organic mumbo-jumbo that populated the label. (That wasn’t the same success he had fed his kids the last few years…)
The barricades guided him to the express line, which was apparently all there was in this store. (What was the point if everyone had less than 15 items?) As his cart moved forward, the wheel having mystically been cured, he reached for his wallet as a pierced face stared back at him expectantly. Yet when his hand reached to his back pocket, all that was there was the saboteur – no familiar card-sized leather. “Oh sh*t,” he said, “I think I forgot my…”, but before he could finish, the pierced face nodded in understanding towards the vending machine. Glancing over in confusion, he saw some quarters behind a thin strip of packing tape, along with a sheet of paper that read “Our gift to you. #payitforward.”
Quarters, much to his confusion, was all it took. Grabbing his bags, he got out of there as fast as he could. John Legend’s new song played out on the store speakers… “Why do I feel numb? Is that all I can do? Heaven knows I’m not helpless…” His wife loved that voice. Thank goodness he was heading home to her and out of this freak store. He vowed later to turn on “All of Me” and actually give her some – all – of himself.
He pressed his thumbprint to the car door and slammed it shut on the words that sang through the parking lot. “I can’t see the use in me crying… I’m not even trying to make the change I wanna see…”
Then the Provider drove home, in the dark, watching for the deer that liked to roam at night, feeling grateful to be needed.
“True self-care is not salt baths and chocolate cake, it is making the choice to build a life you don’t need to regularly escape from.”
— Brianna Wiest —
“
“Has it faded?
Are you bored with the life you’ve created?
Would you sacrifice yourself
To protect everything you own?
Cause it seems to me
That the more you have, the more you want
And the less you understand
How to love and let things go
But I would be the one to break you open
Make you come undone
And I would be the one to turn you over
Let you see what you’ve become
Cause there’s something in you
That’s dying to come alive“
— Aruna —