Instructions

A staple of every fledgling comedian's repertoire are jokes about men who refuse to ask directions despite the fact they are hopelessly lost. As their poor wives roll their eyes, these gents protest that the destination is just around the corner, and we laugh because we recognize the grain of truth in the joke. I am not of this ilk, but I do confess that I have a penchant for ignoring instructions--the kind that accompany a box filled with dozens of pieces of something offering little clue to their relationship to one another. It is a matter of perverse pride I suspect that keeps me from consulting those diagrams and tersely worded notes, a sense that I can figure it out on my own.

I first exhibited this behavior as a boy when presented with my first model airplane. The final result--although faintly resembling something aeronautic was a disappointing kludge of gray plastic covered with fingerprints where the solvent and my fingers intersected. Affixing decals to the completed assembly did nothing to disguise its fumbled construction. But, I digress. The point is that some men, and perhaps a few women I've known are sufficiently headstrong or so supremely self confidant as to forego assistance when confronting a complex challenge.

I am going to avoid the obvious reference to the current political landscape as I am sure it is not lost on the reader that a hallmark of our present administration is its facility for charging forward without regard for consequences or thought given to likely outcomes. Who needs instruction when leadership is omniscient. Instead, allow me to speak about those of us who routinely rely on our inner compass to navigate the world rather than seeking guidance from others, perhaps those more skilled or knowledgable in the subject at hand.

Now I do want to say that there may be something admirable in our desire to wrestle with a challenge on our own, a certain sense of self reliance. But a wise man recognizes when he is outmatched, when a little guidance can set him on the right path and save hours, days or even years of misguided wandering in search of a solution. It is not a cheat to ask for help, nor a concession to our limitations. We are all limited in one way or another and acknowledging that is a sign of maturity. Stubborn resistance is rarely an attractive attribute.

I can attest to the emotions that accompany the flash of insight, the unlocking of the gateway to understanding that accompanies the clue revealed. Suddenly, what has been vexing and occult becomes clear and the way forward lit with confidence. So, why resist the opportunity to save ourselves from ourselves? Is it the sense of mastery we feel when we have reached our destination, accomplished the task on our own? Perhaps. I know that feeling too and as pleasing as it is, it is not half that of arriving in the company of well met friends. The lesson I needed to learn as a young man was to trust in what Mr. Rogers called "the helpers". He said they were all around us and in times of trouble, when fear or doubt or just plain old consternation gripped us we should look for them.

I don't know about you, but I could use a few helpers these days, I suspect we all could. The way forward is murky at best and each day brings fresh obstacles. I certainly don't have the answers, and I am leery of those who claim they do, but I am also ready to ask for directions or at least to seek them together with others so inclined. Maybe together we can find our way out of this mess, and when we do we'll know who to thank, each other. That's the real lesson. None of us have all the answers. As a waggish friend of mine said, we were all born with a crystal ball, but they left out the instructions. Wherever we end up, I'd rather it was in the company of friends.