One type helps me become a better person

*

Paul’s a decent guy.

“Solid,” wrote one of his old teachers in a confidential letter of recommendation that Paul and his non-tenured colleague Ron read when they broke into the Department Head’s office late one night in the spring of 1985.

I’ve grown to like him.

But sometimes, he can be a tyrant.

The Putin of his little world.

A nasty piece of work. Self-involved.

Oh, he hides it well behind that self-satisfied smile.

Take yesterday, for example. He perfectly timed the six-minute drive down Water Street in his Subaru Forester, arriving at the bakery at 6:31 a.m. The pecan rolls should be ready; Paul will be first in line.

It’s his second Forester, by the way. The first was a lemon. This one, five years old today, has a brand new air conditioner. Paul wrote about that fiasco here.

He wrote about why he finds self-promotion difficult here, here, and here.

Who’s he trying to kid?

About that second flawed Forester — he thought about a Buick Encore. It gets better gas mileage and is friendlier to the environment in other ways. It’s air conditioner probably would have lasted longer than five years. Most of the Republicans he knows drive Buicks. So did his father.

Paul’s a liberal boomer; a Buick doesn’t fit the image. He likes thinking he’s counter-culture.

A Subaru Outback had taken his spot in front of the bakery, so he maneuvered around the parking space reserved for bikes in front of the Sugar Bowl ice cream parlor to a place in front of the Montessori School set up years ago in a building that used to house a photographer’s studio.

This delay puts him fourth in line behind a men’s book group trio but close to the table where the day’s Des Moines Register sits. Except today, there’s no sports section.

He feels his left pants pocket and discovers no phone to distract him.

And thinks, why is the barista taking so long to prepare the book guys’ specialty coffee orders?

Then, the owner comes up the aisle from the kitchen and announces the Pecan Rolls will be out in about 10 minutes.

Paul smiles sweetly and says, well, at least they will be fresh.

Paul’s air-conditioned Forester arrived home around 7 a.m., just before Rebecca woke. Coffee would be ready for her.

That’s his coffee cup on the left and Rebecca’s on the right, with fresh Carmel Pecan Rolls.

Notice that the Pecan roll on the left was bigger.

Paul did.

Which one do you think he took?

*

I’m so damn self-interested. Even today, when I volunteer at Decorah’s Food Pantry, I will feel good about myself doing good. The late Indian Catholic Priest Anthony De Mello, in Awareness, writes that there are two types of selfishness,

I give myself the pleasure of pleasing myself; that’s self-centeredness.

I give myself the pleasure of pleasing others, which is more refined.

De Mello says humans are naturally self-centered because they focus on self-preservation.

How does one become aware of how self-oriented he is? DeMello’s technique is self-observation, looking at myself like I would look at someone else.

Self-observation is different from self-absorption, which is self-preoccupation.

I wrote this Pecan Roll story in 3rd person. That technique puts me at a psychological distance from this guy, Paul. It is a humbling experience because I see just how self-involved I am. I’m no more counter-culture in this Subaru capital of Iowa than my Republican friends are with their hoity-toity Buicks.

But before I wrote the story, I observed Paul this early morning.

That’s why I didn’t beat myself up for wanting the larger Pecan roll. Forewarned is forearmed.

Following DeMello’s 3rd-person self-reflection approach, I am more in control of how I decide to act on my self-preservation feelings.

So I took the smaller pastry, preferring to feel good about my generosity rather than guilty about my self-centeredness.

And even better when Rebecca said why don’t you have the bigger one.

Virtue is so rewarding!