What's In the Hat? You Decide

Many years ago (I've discovered as I age, this phrase appears more and more in my speech and writing), when I deplaned during a brief layover in Denver, I left my favorite book on my aisle seat. When I returned, it was gone. I told myself, "I hope whoever picked up my book, appreciates it." I could have been upset, angry even, but in forming a philosophy of life, it's wise to find one that helps you feel better, not worse.

More recently I gave away something special -- to someone who was special to me at the time. It was a hat my father wore to SF Giants games, and he was privileged to have the brim autographed by then Manager, Dusty Baker. The person I gave it to was an avid Giants fan long enough to know who Dusty Baker is. He was grateful and gracious in response to my gift, and fully understanding my feelings toward my father. He promised me the hat would be treasured as a family heirloom and would be handed down to his son, also a genuine Giants fan.

Then something happened. I spoke a truth as I believed it, and it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He took offense. "Perception is reality," he said to me, in justifying his emotionally charged reaction. What I did not say next (trying not to escalate our disagreement) is, "Your perception is your reality; my perception is my reality." The fact is, a person's perception is not universal reality, or unilaterally real, though some of us are arrogant enough to think so about our own.

His family is stable and rooted in their community, so I felt my father's hat had found a good home. Since he and I have parted ways, however, there's no way for me to be sure this is the case; but the fact is I believe the hat will be where it is meant to be, whether he keeps it, sells it on E-bay, or throws it away. And if there is any truth to the theory that loved ones on a higher plane hold influence over people and events on this plane, my daddy will keep an eye on his hat if it matters to him. Which it may not. I mean, in the final analysis, it's just a hat.

"Just" is a word I encourage clients to use to minimize an unpleasant person or event, to help them keep matters in perspective. I could, of course, become emotionally embroiled enough to consider the giving away of this hat as a -- now -- personal loss. OH MY GOD I'VE LOST MY FATHER'S HAT! I choose, however, to remember it is just a hat, and changes in what was at one time (in my perception) a warm and caring friendship, are just part of life. People change. Circumstances change. Someone wise once said "The only thing in life of which we can be certain is change."

Yes, I was caught off guard by this one, as is often the case, and in retrospect I can see that my trust was misplaced; but I have an intellectual understanding of the dynamics at play, and I am reconciled to the reality of the situation. This is just a relationship gone awry, certainly not a matter of life and death. To quote Charles Darwin (as I have in the past), "It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most responsive to change."

I'm cool with change. Over the years I've even made it my friend. It is a friend I can trust. And I do. If my father is now capable of feeling anything, I believe he is feeling proud of me for taking the high road. And he is feeling loved -- regardless of what becomes of his hat.