A far off reality

Somewhere down the line I heard the phrase ‘that’s not reality,’ which struck me because it sure looked and tasted and smelled real.  So what was meant by the phrase?  I’d heard it from more than one person, so it struck me.  

Susan, a tired mother mumbled the phrase when hearing Carol describe her spa weekend with her girlfriends without her children. 

Matt, financially strapped, mumbled the phrase bitterly after hearing Kenny describe the cost of the his latest upgrade. 

I think what they mean is that the other person’s world seems impossible; that from where I sit a ‘spa weekend’ seems as possible as a tap-dancing giraffe. Yet the spa weekend did happen — she has the French tips to prove it.  So is Carol delusional?  Is she living in some parallel universe where French tips are more common than French fries?  Or perhaps the gap is Susan: hoping desperately for a shower or a private appointment in the potty — she’s not picky.  

So which is real?  French tips or French fries?  Pedicures or potty time?  Can they both be real at the same time?  

I wonder if the phrase is one of exasperation; a sentiment expressing a gap between that which is desired and that which is imminent.  

I also wonder if the phrase is underscored with judgement; a self-inflicted mourning that is mis-directed toward another. 

The facts might support Matt’s view that upgraded stereos are far away given the auto loan and bald tires that are more pressing, yet I wonder what would happen if Matt’s view shifted from ‘impossible’ to ‘not yet.’ Susan is correct too: nursing mothers indeed have different options than non-nursing mothers given their geographic and chronological ties to the baby and yet, mani/pedi salons abound.  

I wonder if the emotion behind the phrase is built on and inability to see another possibility.  Susan’s tired eyes and Matt’s checkbook show many more late nights and monthly installments before another possibility manifests.  That emotion: perhaps frustration or a sense of overwhelmed, perhaps jealousy or anger. 

What if another reality is possible — one with an occasional manicure and a month free of payments does exist — even if far off.   How might we live into that future possibility now?   How might we have some empathy for those living in the world of cucumber facials and subwoofers?  Empathy can be difficult, but that’s not the point.  Getting ok with Swedish massage is not the point; reframing my thinking from ‘impossible’ to ‘not yet’ is.