“You follow the same adorable pattern over and over again,” Skyspook says.
I blush. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he says. “I mean adorable in a positive way. I’m not belittling you. It really is charming.”
I smile. “What’s this pattern?”
According to Skyspook, it goes a little something like this:
Skyspook: You know what would help you? Doing Y.
Page: NO, I HATE IT!
Skyspook: Well, you want X, so doing Y will help.
Page: NO, IT WON’T HELP. I SUCK AT Y.
Skyspook: Well, you’ve done Z, which is similar, and you rock at Z.
Page: …WELL, MAYBE.
Skyspook: And I heard someone say you can’t do Y.
Page: FUCK THEM, I’M AWESOME AT Y.
Here Comes the Airplane
I laugh. “Really?”
Skyspook nods. “I redirect things to show you the causal link, and then I tell you that you must not be able to do it.”
“Oh yikes,” I say.
“You do your best work when you have something to prove,” Skyspook says. “Again, it’s not a weakness. It’s really endearing. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
“What?” I ask. “That I’m stubborn and rebellious?”
“No,” he says. “That you can admit when you’re wrong. That you can grow. And that you really want to. You’re committed to growth. And you have the most wonderful epiphanies when you tackle something new. Every story you tell kind of follows the same arc: ‘I didn’t want to, but I tried it. Holy shit, the growth was hard, but LOOK AT ME NOW!’ And that’s because that’s essentially how you live.”
“But all that ‘if you want X, you gotta do Y, I bet you’re awesome at Y because look at how good you are at Z, which is practically the same thing. But so and so says you can’t do Y’ stuff… well, it sounds exhausting for you.”
“Nah,” Skyspook says. “Think of it as a game of Here Comes the Airplane. I just have you strapped to the high chair and am trying to get you to eat some damn peas already.” He pauses, then adds. “And honestly, sometimes I see you doing it to yourself. Getting yourself psyched up to do something new.”
I smile. “I guess that’s one way to never lose your inner child.”
My book is out!