Verified by 
We've heard and read those words for so many decades they seem inseparable, joined together by steel girders. In the middle of the night last week I was almost asleep, but had failed to turn off the television. I was in that dreamy state where reality and fantasy marry one another and can "mess with your head." In the background was the voice of an infomercial narrator offering what I wanted ...or my money back. I jolted upright. If I made the call in the next ten minutes I would get more than the original offer, and he guaranteed my full satisfaction. I was dazed. When fully awake I realized it was only a pitch for a product and not a message personally aimed at me. The man on television had nothing to do with my secret thoughts or personal desires. It was not a dare to call someone with the ironclad promise of a positive outcome if I did. When I realized the extent of my mental confusion, I laughed, and made a New Year's resolution to turn off the television earlier.
In the morning, I considered how ubiquitous our "satisfaction guaranteed" consumer culture was, and took it another step. Is that what we expect in life as well? Do I believe everything I want will come true, and if not, will someone tell me how to apply for a full refund? Can I redeem my deluxe-extended-life-coupons and try again? What refund would I request? Would it be to live for more weeks or months, or years? Am I entitled to receive chits for extra chances to make better decisions and choices in careers, friendships, and personal relationships? Do I believe, somewhere down deep, that I deserve at least a small reward because of lifelong illness? Am I waiting for an apology with compensation from someone who has hurt, disappointed or betrayed me?
Technology offers personal gratification and professional results quickly or immediately. We shop online; some of us browse for a spouse or companion online. We write intimate messages online; we follow what our friends are doing on Facebook or read about fleeting emotions or actions on Twitter. As a writer, I can do research online because of digital library access which is what makes a professional career still possible when unwell. I don't know if the 21st century's virtual banquet of instant satisfaction and reward has made us more impatient with one another and ourselves -- perhaps we're more demanding of perfection in all our interactions? What I do suspect is it's worth the time it takes to contemplate the questions. Are we a civilization on a quest for unrealistic personal, economic and professional fulfillment? Do we set the bar of expectations so high most of us will never be able to vault it?
Dr. Michael Gutstadt, a psychologist (and childhood friend) is concerned about an increased communal drive to achieve immediate satisfaction or gratification and what might be the growing psychic and spiritual inability to fully value what occurs in the present. He articulated it to me in a few words. "Always the eager hunt for the perfect tomorrow, but hardly ever the full appreciation of the meaning of the good today." His remark was made within the context of understanding the differing ways in which people define contentment. What does it mean to be content in our lives, in our workplaces, in our homes, in our bodies, in our relationships? Do we tend to equate contentment with boredom or psychological paralysis?
I don't know the answers to these questions but they plague me during the holiday season. Because of my unpredictable health, I am often unable to participate in "normal" festivities. This year was no exception. Am I content with what I can do instead of cranky and unhappy about what I am unable to do? No, I'm not. That's a tough confession to write here, when I insist it's possible to live above, beyond and despite chronic disease or physical challenges. I still believe it is, and try to practice that way of being, of existing. However, the holidays are difficult and stressful with or without physical or medical limitations. So many expectations and perceived demands appear. There are endless tasks and obligations ready and willing to smack us down as they float in the air above us in the form of requests and comments from friends, colleagues, family members, and the incessant noise of the media-hype. It's easy to fall into the trap of trying to do it all flawlessly, so that we do not disappoint anyone during what should be a joyful time. When we reach the middle of New Year's Day a number of us are convinced nobody ever gets what he or she really wanted, or will ever be satisfied. -- Least of all those of us who took on too much and then couldn't find a way to bow out before exhaustion and resentment swamped us and dampened spirits. If we speak truthfully: "I'm sorry I am unable to do this," it can be misinterpreted as failing or being selfish and/or lazy
The worn and tired phrase Satisfaction Completely Guaranteed is only a mythology and we do know that, most of the time. Except for the middle of the night pitchman who lives inside our television, most of us don't claim we can provide that, at least not when we're rested and clear-headed. However, if we don't listen to our inner voice we set up situations where it's likely interpersonal failure will occur. A certified guarantee doesn't come stapled to our birth certificates. As we find the manner in which to compose the years we're given, we learn quickly enough the life we planned or imagined often falls far short of what we had hoped or assumed.
Sometimes we act as if we've been cheated or swindled. Inside we're churning and agitated that it didn't work out the way it does in the happily-ever- after-forever-and-ever Hollywood movies. The internal conversation screens out reality: What's going on here? There must be a mistake; something has gone very wrong. Why didn't I get it all? My dreams and fantasies didn't walk through the front door and introduce themselves. When we hit a bad patch of despair and descend into self-pity, we're not unlike characters in stock fairy tales -- waiting for the glass slipper to fit only our foot or the genie to jump from the bottle granting our precise wishes. We can become outraged at the very notion of coping with disappointments, as if they weren't naturally occurring events in the life cycle. And frankly, I doubt every money-back claim made on television turns out to be true or easy to implement.
The late John Wallowitch was a neighbor and friend, but more to the point, he was a songwriter and cabaret performer. He wrote thousands of songs (quite literally). But it's one in particular that brings me to a full stop. There's a deceptive simplicity to the lyrics. This song tells the unvarnished truth about guarantees. - It's important to learn to receive and acknowledge satisfaction in the present tense. -- It's the only warranty we alone have full power to issue. I can't help but wonder what would happen to our culture and the world if we purposefully refrained from keeping mental ledgers of our disappointments and diminished expectations and instead worked on appreciating that good today -- instead of obsessing about the idealized (and romanticized) elusive futures we're convinced we absolutely must attain -- or else.
This Moment
Words and Music by John Wallowitch
It takes a life to realize what life is all about
And life is all about, this moment.
I'm here with you, before we're through
What secret will we tell?
I learn to know you well, this moment.
How soon, too soon, the hours fly.
I hear the clock go tickin' by-
I won't pretend that time has been my friend.
I bring my song to sing my song for you
Until the end.
And as I live my days,
I'll count the wondrous ways
That brought me here to praise
This moment.
I hear the clock go tickin' by,
I only hope that time will be your friend.
I live my life to give my life with love,
Oh, don't you see.
If only you'll agree, please,
Come along with me.
I only guarantee
This moment.
(©John Wallowitch)
