The first time I came to understand the nature of accepting the “as is” in life was in a basement- well, not just any basement- it was Filene’s Basement as in THE Original Filene’s Basement in Boston – the forerunner of all discount shopping - where my Mom took me each and every Saturday to shop for one-of-a-kind high-fashion items at ‘bargain basement’ prices.
My Mom, originally from a town in Northern Massachusetts where both of her parents, my Italian Nanny and Grampa, worked in shoe mills to support my mom and her three siblings, was a lover of things that were beautiful and fashionable- and high-end. She had become accustomed to outfitting herself in style while working in Washington D.C. in her version of Rosie the Riveter (as secretary, to the Quartermaster General who was responsible for ordering the supplies for our troops in Europe), dressed, of course, in beautiful suiting and Italian shoes. After working in the NYC area and then Boston during my Dad’s post-GI college and early career years, and earning her own income with easy access to public transportation and in the city, my Mom faced her harsh ‘as is’ reality of suburban living- from Rosie the Riveter to Donna Reed in the suburbs where she was relocated by family life.
After living in cities, my parents built a home in the Boston suburbs where they soon had a first baby- that would be me. And while this may sound blissful, for my Mom, it was like being sequestered in Siberia - a cold and lonely ‘as is’ with one car for which they were grateful. Each morning, my Mom waved to my Dad as he took their wheeled buggy to his job as a banker. That was her Monday to Friday ‘as is’.
On Saturdays, my Mom created her own ‘as is’- at The Basement. My Dad would go fishing with his buddy who had a car, knowing there was no way he was going to beat out my Mom in her race for The Car- that was his ‘as is’ and he dealt with it well. He went fishing. My Mom went hunting.
You can’t imagine how fast my Mom scurried to claim the wheeled chariot on Saturday mornings when she would load me into the car and drive us into downtown Boston. When I was old enough to understand language, I realized that the parking garage attendants knew her name. This was the day of garages where you left your car with the attendant who placed the vehicle on an elevator and delivered it to a parking spot- Mrs. Brill had her own spot… Then off we would go to the land of “as is” basement bargains.
The thing about the “as is” ticket- and, by the way, you can still find these specials in the Filene’s Basements that have cropped up above ground and around the country- is this: When you score an item with this mantra- ‘as is’- you know the item is of extreme value. Usually it’s some fancy Italian designer piece- at least nowadays- marked down to extraordinary lows. If it’s your size- okay, even if it isn’t- you just have to try it on.
But first you deal with the ‘as is’- you have to accept whatever and wherever the ‘as is’ is on this garment.
Maybe it’s a hole in the sleeve- somewhere hidden where no one would ever see it.
Perhaps it’s a tear in the garment body- if it’s a slash near the bottom and you are the right height, you might be able to turn a long evening gown into a knee-length cocktail dress that is just the right length for you.
But if the tear is right in the middle of the torso, and you try it on just to picture how elegant you would look dressed in such Italian delights on a regular basis, you might reconsider whether you want this ‘as is’ as it is – or if you simply can’t deal with this particular ‘as is’ – in which case, you will want to pass. And if you decide to take this find ‘as is’ without fantasizing that it is some other way, then what you see is what you get and you deal with it.
Life is a bit different but it still offers its own share of ‘as is’ items.
First, there is the ‘as is’ of the family into which we are born. While many of us have spent long hours lamenting our family’s shortcoming and deficiencies- our generation, after all, gave birth to the idea that families are dysfunctional and to the corresponding belief that there are families that are functional which may be more myth than reality! (Let me go on record here as someone who practiced as a clinical psychologist and family therapist for many years, THERE ARE FEW, IF ANY, FUNCTIONAL FAMILIES. In fact, functional families may be like the greener grass on the other side. They may be only the families in which other people live- the ones that we see only from the outside, never beyond the threshold…).
After the family-of-origin ‘as is’ there is the series of ‘as is’ events that makes up childhood and adolescence, times that most of us would prefer to forget. Still, looking back on those ‘as is’ events, they don’t seem quite so life-shattering as they did when we were immersed in them and wishing for other versions of reality in that childhood and teenage chorus of ‘if only’ - wishing to be Debbie the Cheerleader or John the Quarterback. You have to wonder where their ‘as is’ reality lies these days…
Then there were the collegiate ‘as is-es’ – that is if you can remember college…
For those of us with enough mileage to have earned our eons stripes and to walk proud in our eons shoes- mine are, of course, Italian and always purchased at bargain prices- there are memories of one ‘as is’ after another.
And, you know what, when you look back on all of those ‘as is’ realities- okay, when I look back at my own- they really don’t seem as earth-shaking as they seemed when they were going on.
In fact, the most difficult part, in 20-20 retrospect, was caused by resisting the ‘as is’ and wishing for some other version of reality. But they don’t have ‘if only’ signs on the garments at Filene’s Basement- or life – and who would choose to waste their time trying on those items anyway?
Accepting these ‘as is’ items at The Basement and the ‘as is’ realities of life – rather than denying them or wishing them away while singing tunes of ‘if only’, ‘Yesterday” or “The Way We Were” frees us to deal with our challenges and joyous finds and to move forward. Just as my Mom had one set of wheels for a period of time and accepted that empty driveway ‘as is’ as her reality (at least during the work week), when we accept the ‘as is’ that is our life, we can deal with it. Then we are freed up to create other opportunities- to proactively create them rather than to wish the ‘as is’ reality away.
In life, as in shopping, accepting the ‘as is’ gets you closer to what you want than bemoaning the ‘if only’. And that - accepting THE AS IS - is really the first step to engaging with the ‘as is’ that is your life, the first step to moving from this starting point into the spaces and opportunities that you want to create. Accepting your results then becomes the next ‘as is’ from which you can take your next leap – or babystep.
Thank Goodness for the ‘as is’ – and for The Basement…
Looking forward,
Pam
Follow-Up: what are some aspects of your life that, if- let’s change that to ‘when’- you accept them ‘as is’ you can deal and move forward?
Can you commit to choose one ‘as is’ that you are not facing and to deal with it and then move on?
