Like a Bag of Chips

Forrest Gump once said, “Life is like a box of chocolates…” I’ve discovered it’s more like a bag of chips.

I was always an airplane cookie guy. Whenever the flight attendant came around, my go-to snack was the cookies they serve on the airplanes. A while back, I broke my routine. They were offering a new kind of chips, so I decided to try them. I became hooked.

I loved those chips so much that I actually looked forward to the snack service on flights. Like Pavlov’s dog, my mouth began to water whenever I heard the flight attendants start pushing the cart down the aisle. These chips were delectable. The package claims they are healthy due to the whole grains included in the chips, so win-win!

After a couple of flights, I started looking for these chips in our local grocery store, but they didn’t carry them. Lo and behold, the other day I was walking down the chip aisle and there they were…a whole big bag of them. I scooped up a bag, laid it gently in my cart so they wouldn’t get smashed and even asked the checker to bag them separately. I couldn’t wait to get home to enjoy them.

After arriving home and putting the groceries away, I pulled out the bag, gently pulled the seam apart, and reached in. There in my trembling little fingers was a chip about four times the size of the ones you get on a plane. I placed it in my mouth and waited for the flavors to work their magic.

There were no trumpets. No harps. Something must be wrong. These didn’t taste as good as the ones on the plane. I hurried to the pantry to retrieve that one little bag I had saved from my last flight to compare. The flight attendant must have felt I looked like a hungry little puppy and gave me two, so I stashed one away for later. I compared the ingredients…the same. I looked at where they were made…the same. So, what made the little ones taste so much better?

I finally figured it out. It really had nothing to do with taste. It was perspective. You see, I had to earn my chip on the plane. Those tiny little bags were fragile and difficult to open. Once opened, my big fat fingers could barely even fit inside to grab a chip. At most, I got one at a time; one tiny little chip that tasted delicious. When I got near the end of that tiny bag, I fumbled for the crumbs…still delicious, just harder to grasp. I worked for my treat.

When I opened the big bag at home, my entire hand fit inside. The chips were easy to grab and were four times larger than the chips on the plane. It was easy. Maybe too easy. I was getting four times the bite-full with half the effort. It felt gluttonous, sinful, shameful.

When things are too easy in life, we tend to enjoy life less. There’s satisfaction in earning. There’s satisfaction in being rewarded for your efforts.

When I think of Myasthenia Gravis, I often look at it as a burden or a chore. I have to try harder. I get tired quicker. I expect more out of life.

Perhaps I should look at each day as a bag of airplane chips. It may not be abundant and I’ll have to work for it, but maybe it’s so I’ll enjoy life that much more. Maybe having to try a little harder is making me realize how enjoyable life can be and how fortunate I am to be living it. Maybe slowing down and savoring life a little more is actually a blessing.

I’m not saying Myasthenia Gravis is a blessing, but it’s making me slow down, making me smell the roses a little more. Maybe that little bag of airplane chips tasted so good because it was teaching me a lesson. Things always taste better when you work for them.