“He that to what he sees, adds observation, and to what he reads, reflection, is in the right road to knowledge.
—Caleb Colton

We are not just feathers blown on the winds of a powerless life. We bring ourselves to our experiences. The dynamics of learning include, first, what happens – what we see or read or hear – and, second, what we make of it. So in our observations and reflections we consider what an event means to us.”  (Excerpt from the book, Touchstones, published by Hazelden Press)

I used to think that reflection involved the big questions.  Is there a God?  If so, what is God like?  What is the purpose of life?  What is the purpose of my life?

This morning, I realized that a reflection on spoiled milk will do nicely enough.

In our household, we buy milk when it is cheap.  The problem is, we don’t drink as much of it as we used to.  So we freeze milk.  Sometimes, we even remember that we’ve frozen some milk.

The milk we had this morning—until I poured it down the drain about ten minutes ago—was spoiled.  My wife casually, in her best non-accusatory voice, said, “I think some of the frozen milk was poured in with the fresh milk I bought.”

I was irritated.  I was irritated because I don’t like wasting money.  I was irritated because, I was the one who had poured the frozen milk on top of the fresher milk.  I was irritated because I was irritated.

But I had just read this bit about reflecting, so I said to myself, “Self, why don’t you reflect on spoiled milk, and your attitudes, values, and actions?”

So, that is what I did.  I got quiet and reflected.  Here are the results of my reflection on spoiled milk.

First, the saying, “Don’t cry over spilt milk,” came to mind.  Perhaps crying over spoilt milk wasn’t necessary or helpful either.

Next, I asked myself a really crucial question: What am I really irritated about?  I didn’t like the answer, but here it is anyway.

I was irritated because I was trying too hard to please my wife and it wasn’t working.

You see, my wife likes to bake.  This works out nicely, because I like to eat!  And she bakes for other folks as well.

But, in order to bake, she often needs room in the fridge for her masterpieces.  (And, no, that is not an overstatement or sarcasm.  They really are masterpieces, though she rarely thinks so.)

If my Martha-Stewart-style wife needs to put things in the fridge, there has to be room.  This is a simple application of the second law of physics that states that two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time.  Be that as it may, it’s a law.

Are you lost yet? Or is this entirely too simple for you?  Truth is almost always both simple and elusive.

So, the reason I had poured the frozen milk into the jug with the newer milk was to economize on space.  And the reason I wanted to economize on space was that I wanted to please my wife.

Now, there is nothing wrong with wanting to please people, particularly people who are close to us—except when there is something wrong with it.  If it gets out of hand, it leads to trying too hard to please people, which swiftly becomes irritating to both the pleasee and the would-be pleaser.

And, of course, when I reflect on my own reflection, I realize that my desire to please my wife is not really always my desire to please my wife.  Instead, it is a sneaky way of manipulating her, of pretending that I am in control.

But that’s enough reflection for one day.  I can’t handle too much truth all at once.  Otherwise, I might go into psychological shock, which can be fatal.