The Choice


I had been looking forward to seeing artist Yayoi Kusama’s “Festival of Life” show at the  David Zwirner gallery. I read a social media post which said the show would be open until January 1st and I also read that there had been long lines to get into seeing the show. So I thought, “Ok… I will wait a few weeks in the hope that the line would get shorter.”  Finally,  I found the time to go to see the show. I bundled myself up and prepared myself to wait in line for an hour or so. However, when I got there, there was a sign on the door saying the gallery was closed and the show was deinstalled.

Oh man,  I had no words to describe my feelings at the moment.I was so upset and disappointed.I was angry. I wanted to blame everyone I could think of for missing the show. (I was glad nobody was with me that day, or I could have yelled at them. ) Luckily I was reading Mark Manson’s book, “ The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck.” So I told myself I had to make a choice right now. I could go home and continue to be upset, or I could take two more trains to get another location where some of the artist’s paintings were still showing. So I could get something from this trip and make myself feel better. I chose the second plan. I did feel better, and I enjoyed the rest of my day.

I know this was a small moment. But it made me think how many choices we make each day. These choices, big or small, decide what kind of person we want to be and what kind of life we desire. Maybe life is not so complicated after all. We just need to make our choices wisely

One Art

By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.