“Life is a bowl of shit. A bowl of shit with jelly beans mixed in. You always have to eat the shit but every now and then you get a jelly bean.”
These are the words that were spoken to me in a small bar on the top floor of a hotel in Santana Row last weekend. My girlfriends (the chicas, as we’ve named ourselves) had come into town for the holiday and wanted to go out for the night. I was designated driver, which amounted to playing babysitter for three of my favorite people in this world and marriage counselor to a middle-aged Mercedes dealer from Canada. His name was Jerry, a husband and father to two little girls.
He was unhappy in his current relationship with his wife stating that they both knew they were only together for the kids. It broke my heart. I told him to fight for his family, remember why he had fallen in love with his wife, and talk to her as honestly as he conversed with a stranger in a bar. He thanked me for the conversation, I thanked him for the drink (sparkling water in a wine glass) and we both moved on with our lives. Jerry back to the hotel room he was sharing with his business colleagues and me back to my chicas.
I walked into that bar unsure of where I was headed with school, relationships, etc. But I walked out realizing that I still have a world filled with endless possibilities ahead of me. I plan on having a bowl filled with jelly beans. (According to Jerry’s philosophy we all have different amounts in our bowls.) And it is my sincere hope that wherever you are and regardless of the years you have yet lived, you find as many jelly beans as possible and enjoy every bite.
