Buying a Ticket

Tom Friedman writes that he used to start all his lectures with following joke:

“Every Sabbath, Goldberg would go to synagogue and pray: ‘G-d, I have been a pious Jew all of my life. What would be so bad if I won the lottery?’ But the lottery would come and Goldberg wouldn’t win. This would go on week after week, month after month. Goldberg would go to synagogue, pray to the L-rd for deliverance, but the lottery would come and Goldberg wouldn’t win. Finally, one Sabbath, Goldberg couldn’t take it anymore. He wailed to the Heavens, ‘G-d I have been such a good Jew all of my life, what do I have to do to win the lottery?” And suddenly the heavens parted and the voice of G-d boomed out, 'Goldberg, give me a chance. Buy a ticket.’”

Sometimes all it takes is one insignificant action to help everything fall into place. In my case, it was a phone call.

It had been roughly 10 weeks before I decided to bite the bullet and just pick up the phone.

It all started on Memorial Day weekend. We had a dira reunion—perfect time to reinvigorate a somewhat neglected friendships. I abhor glass ceilings, especially ones that encase relationships. There was one I just could not ignore and attempted to shatter it, but only damaged the friendship in the process and erected more barriers. I didn’t know how to fix it, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to either. I gave inertia the reigns and turned a blind eye as we drifted apart.

For weeks, I convinced myself that I would make amends via email. It would be less awkward, and I’d be able to choose my words very precisely. But it never ranked as numero uno on my priority list. I never entered it as a task in my Palm. Needless to say, I never got around to doing it.

Eventually, events surrounding a mutual friend compelled me to take action. I called to discuss said situation and just pretended that nothing had happened. And I hate doing that—I hate glossing over issues. It’s simply too incongruous with my modus operandi. I have both the blessing and the curse of being blunt, and often insist on discussing anything and everything. But that’s simply not possible in the context of this friendship. However, I decided not to discard a rewarding friendship just because it’s finite. In the short time since I made contact, I have since spoken to her numerous times. I’m happy to report I think I’ve almost regained all the ground that I lost. Almost. And all it took was a phone call.