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I am beginning to realize that all life is is a series of problems. Even when things go right, you’ll still have problems. Don’t mistake what I’m saying for Murphy’s Law, which projects: “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

This adage is popular in entrepreneurial America today, because at one time or another, every person will be in a bad situation where you are left discouraged, helpless, and pitiful. I don’t know, maybe when you are on the bottom, it feels good to know that it was destined to happen anyway. That you did all you could, but the deck was stacked against you.

Or more likely, it’s just good to know that you’re not alone, that others have failed just like you, so much that they wrote it down. Maybe Murphy’s Law gets more credit than it deserves. After all, his laws are always recited to an attentive crowd–a bewildered bunch with nothing else to do but listen. Laws of success written for successful people will never be read by successful people because they are too busy out succeeding.

For whatever reason we like this law, somehow having “failure” defined soothes the sting:

1. If anything can go wrong, it will.
2. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.
3. If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway.
4. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.
5. Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
6. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
7. Nature always sides with the hidden flaw
8. Whatever has happened wrong, is bound to happen again …. maybe even worse.

These laws can make your life miserable if they drive you to being pessimistic or jaded. Defeatists are no fun to be around. But for idealists like me, it’s a healthy to be confronted with the reality that failure is possible, that things won’t always go as I hope. Knowing this, I can choose a positive attitude so that I know how to deal with adversity as it comes. Otherwise, life will be a series of problems and disappointments, and life will be become miserable.

As an example, consider my life since December 27, 2006…

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The December Payment Saga

I’ve spent the last 206 days trying to help my mortgage company remember that they cashed my December payment, but they forgot to credit my account.

It’s like your friend loans you $10 and you pay him right back. But he pesters you for the next 7 months asking you when you’re going to pay you the $10 back. This starts out as a friendly misunderstanding, but it turns into “What’s wrong with you? Do you not remember that we talked about this two hours ago?”

But the December Payment Saga is more complicated that a misunderstanding between friends. I have been inundated with letters in the mail, random bullies calling me, and even an automated computer voice that calls my home and my work. I didn’t know this happened to people who made their monthly payments on time.

Each time I got a real human on the phone, I told them the same story. I recited this story so many times that I had dates, account numbers, and check numbers memorized. “Yes, I’ll fax over records…no, I already have your fax number.” Every time I thought it would be my last phone call.

Since I knew I was correct the whole time, I always spoke with a calm confidence, like this whole dilemma was beneath me, but I was kind enough to take time to help the person on the phone get their bearings. Beginning month number 3, I adopted the persona of an outraged male who was insulted by the corporate irresponsibility. You know the “I’ll take my business elsewhere.” I was condescending and short. This felt kind of cool, like I was the undisputed world champion of the phone call, but I felt bad for the people on the other end of the call. More importantly, this didn’t bring any results.

Beginning month number 4, I became a new man, a kind man amused by the ridiculous situation. I would receive their aggressive tone with giggly skepticism. “Oh really, you don’t see the computer showing my payment? (pause) Did you read the notes about my account on the computer? (pause) I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up.” I’d continue eating my burrito until they were ready. I wasn’t sarcastic, just patient and chill.

Around month 5, maybe month 6, I was absolutely blunt with the guy on the phone. I was a man who was about to break down:

“Sir, I have no idea what I can tell you guys so that you’ll quit calling me. I’ve tried everything. I could be mad at you, threaten to call the Better Business Bureau, or ask to speak to your manager. But that hasn’t worked. I would recite my story of what brought us to this point, but like everyone else who’s called me, you’ll forget to write any of this down. I’ll get another call tomorrow, and I’ll tell the same story. It’s probably best if you just hang up and call someone else.”

I spent so many hours on the phone with these people that I actually got to know most of the people in their call center. I could recognize their voices, like family members in another state. I even affirmed a new guy: “You have done a great job. You must be new. I’ve received a lot more help the last few times I’ve called. Please tell your manager I appreciated all of your help.” He replied, “Actually, we recently overhauled our entire customer service department. Almost all of us are new on staff.” So I’ve had this same problem through an entire turnover of this division. It was 206 days of hell.

That is until last yesterday (Friday) when I got my final phone call:

“Mr. Smith, we’re very sorry. We did in fact receive your December payment. Your account is now current and on schedule. Your credit report has been cleared. All late fees have been reimbursed. You will receive no more letters or phone calls. But we will be sending you a letter of apology in the mail.”

I was so happy that I just chit-chatted with Jessica for a few minutes. The call could’ve been brief, less than 20 seconds, about as long as it would take you to read the paragraph above. But I realized that I was in the final scene of a really long, boring chapter of my life, and it would be unjust to not make it more climactic.

So Jessica and I chit-chatted, repeating the same good news back to each other for almost five minutes. It’s all over? Yes it’s all over. You mean, it’s really all over? Yes, it’s really…

I thanked her and gave her some interesting facts about my past that might make her weekend a little more interesting. I clapped my phone shut and asked Candyce to go on a date with me for lunch. We went to lunch at Pipe’s Cafe overlooking the ocean to celebrate.

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Life = Problems = LifeI realize that this journal entry may end up sounding like a poorly-crafted chapter from a self-help book. I would try to re-write this chapter to make it better, I don’t have it all figured out yet. I can’t lace this up tight.

One thing is for sure: Problems = Life. There’s no blissful existence on earth waiting for me if you can just get through this one problem. There are other problems waiting for me tomorrow that I’ll have to deal with too. When I look into the future and see the adversity waiting for me, I get overwhelmed and I feel defeated.

The good news is that it can’t come all at you at once. Last week I sat on the tailgate of my Element on a bluff overlooking the ocean. I spent an hour in prayer, reading the Bible and quieting me heart. I came across this scripture that helped me out:

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of it’s own. Today’s trouble is enough.” - Matthew 6:34

This year was different than last year in the tent. My pad has thinned out, and the ground wasn’t as forgiving. It rained a lot the first couple weeks, which was fun because it doesn’t rain much in Arizona. But that excess water gave life to an abnormal number of plants. Those plants dumped more pollen in the air than my allergies could handle. I had no filtered central heating system to ease my pain. I sneezed my way through miles of toilet paper. My eyes were itchy and watery every morning and through most of the day. But sacrifice is what Lent is all about. If I was comfortable outside, then it would’ve been a waste of my time.

Next year, I might take my tent with me when I travel on weekends. I’ve opted not to do this because I like to be an efficient traveler with the minimal baggage. Since I travel up north quite a bit, this will mean I have to pack a thick sleeping bag and some warm pajamas. But it could be adventurous to wake up under a blanket of snow.

I really enjoyed the change of scenery this year, but that’s about all I can extract for the experiment at this point in my life. I have so much work to do that I can’t even think straight. If nothing, sleeping in the tent simplified my life so that I could deal with all this stress.

Last night was bizarre because their was a posse of teenagers walked laps around the neighborhood loop in middle of the night. My tent was only a few feet from the sidewalk. Rowdy teenagers don’t intimidate me, but it’s a whole different story when I am laying on the ground in my underwear, separated by a thin cloth wall. When they came barking at each, scuffling their shoes along the sidewalk inches from my head—I didn’t know how to deal with the situation. I’ve just never encountered something like that before.

We went to sunrise Mass this morning. As cool as it is to start Easter Sunday that early, I can hardly make it through the whole Mass without falling asleep. Once we got home, the family charged through the house ready to start the adventures of the day. After sleeping in a tent for over forty nights, I could only imagine falling into a real bed. I slept for another five hours. I loved it!

Today is the happiest day of the year for Christians. After forty days of prayer and sacrifice, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. The older and more mature I get, the more Lent and Easter mean to me. It makes my devotion to God more deep and meaningful. It’s so beautiful to experience all this with my girlfriend. I love her so much.

I’m up early (six) because I have a big day at work. It’s all cool stuff, but still a lot of work. My tent is almost worn out. In the past year or so, it’s spent almost 100 days under the desert sun. The fabric has become thin and almost brittle.

I don’t know how dignified it is to talk about bodily functions, but I can’t resist: I love peeing outside. I know girls don’t like to talk about this, and rightfully so. But guys talk about it all the time. Given the choice between going inside or outside, most guys will do it in the woods. Some people have told me that males just like to mark their territory. There might be some truth to that, but my carnal senses can’t confirm whose claimed which territory. The world is my backyard!

The citrus trees are blooming, and the aroma is intoxicating. I wake up and inhale the glory. It’s quite a contrast to when I fart in my tent. It’s quite funny when you think about it.