For our date last weekend, we played pool and went to the grocery store—fancy, I know.
The pool table that we play on has seen better days. It primarily serves as a snack table for teenagers, which is obvious to anyone who sees the spill stains, crumbs, and threadbare felt. One leg, missing the small rubber foot that keeps the table level, used to be propped up with a sideways piece of copper pipe (key words: Used to).
But we’re not pool sharks, so the ratty old table isn’t a problem. We don’t play for keeps.
As soon as Curtis (he’s very wonderful) broke the rack on Saturday night, every single ball rolled to the right. We didn’t immediately investigate, but after a few turns of balls constantly rolling only to the right side of the table or into the pockets when they should have stopped inches sooner, it was obvious something was wrong. A thorough evaluation revealed that the copper pipe that used to hold up one of the legs was gone. One corner was a good half-inch lower than the other three, hence, the rolling balls.
Since we’d already sunk most of the balls, we decided to finish the game—but before we played again, we jammed a few rubber disks under the low leg to level the table and save us from all the unfair rolling.
The first game didn’t count, and the second game was a draw. Better luck to one of us next time (me, obviously).
*Here is where I want to put a sentence that connects the physical activity of playing pool to the conceptual analogy of a mental pool table. Unfortunately, no such sentence is coming to mind, so this disclaimer-y explanation will have to do.*
Every one of us plays a perpetual game of pool in our minds.
The table is our worldview, how we solve problems, and the story we tell ourselves about our circumstances.
The balls are our circumstances.
At our mental pool tables, just like in the real-life game of pool, we size up scenarios, form perceptions, and make decisions. We choose what seems best and make shots accordingly.
Sometimes, we make the right choice and sink a ball. Other times, we make the wrong choice and the ball goes skidding across the table, just to bounce into another cushion and eventually roll to a dead stop. Bummer. Better luck next time. Learn from experience.
When your pool table is level, clean, and well cared for, it’s easy to maintain a rational perspective on life and the things that happen to you, for instance:
“I got a flat tire on the way home from work—but I have a well-paying job, a warm house, a family that loves me, good friends, and two dogs that are my best, best buds.”
BUT. When your pool table is unbalanced, hitting one ball into several others often causes all of them to start rolling. This translates to even small obstacles becoming big problems:
“I got a flat tire on the way home from work—and I’ll probably be late for dinner and the food will be cold and I’ll fight about it with my spouse and she’ll make me clean up the dog vomit because she’ll be mad at me for being late. And on top of that, my boss gave me a funny look today and I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire me tomorrow and this is all just too much for me and I think I’ll quit and run away to live in a cardboard box on Lower Wacker because I am ALONE IN THE WORLD and EVERYTHING IS TERRIBLE.”
Obviously, this is extreme, but you get the picture. We all react to things based on how we see them—and depending on what condition our mental pool table is in, we have rational or irrational reactions.
When you’re struggling with something and you can’t find a solution, stop looking at the balls (your situation) and study the table (your perspective). Maybe it’s slanted.
It’s always worth re-assessing your perceptions and your problem solving habits before addressing a problem.
I haven’t yet felt a cue for a witty caption—I’m chalking it up to eight solid days of gray skies.