Counterintuitive became a permanent part of our language the 2nd year of our marriage. We were students and quite poor; biggest purchase to date was a wedding ring. Since we wanted to travel some and camping was all we could afford we bought a $180 tent. It nearly killed me to spend that much money, but actually putting up the tent was far worse. Every time we put it up (inevitably in the dark and hungry) we failed to place the correct poles on top so that the tent could be erected. Finally I realize that it was counter-intuitive: the long poles went on the bottom and shorter ones went on top. Unfortunately it took many years and arguments to come up with this pneumonic device and then a few more years to actually remember what the pneumonic device meant: “I know we decided these poles are counter-intuitive but does that mean we would assume the short or long ones go on top?” This past June for the first time in our marital history we put the tent up correctly on the first try—only took 12 years, 34 tries. As one might guess the word has taken on a life of its own, entering conversations at odd moments, usually causing a knowing grin of recognition.
I guess I could end with some huge claim about how life is counterintuitive, but I’m not sure at all what intuition tells me about life—do we intuitively see life as easy? Difficult? Full of surprise? Boring? And if I did decide what exactly I had intuited about life would I remember it in the same way when I hit my next challenge? It would probably take me like 34 tries.
2 comments:
Is this the tent that you set up at Zion? The one you sleep in or the one your kids sleep in?
yes the one we slept in. I hope you don't think I would have spent 180 bucks on that little rag tag of a kid's tent.
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