Book

Perfect Game Plateau

By John Passaro on September 3, 2017 • ( Leave a comment )

This is the first chapter of

“Synchronicity: A Divinely Orchestrated Journey”

I will be releasing 1 chapter online a day for the next 40 days.

Click Here for the Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Perfect Game Plateau

There are plateaus,
But you must not stay there
You must go beyond them.

Bruce Lee

The 3rd of December, 2015

Ever since speaking a single word to her friends ten months ago, Jessica’s development has plateaued.

She has spoken no new words, she has had no new limb movement and she has seen no new development in any part of her body.

Except in her eyes.

Most of the time.

At times I can see a vast improvement in clarity in Jessica’s eyes as she looks at me, and a sense of

“Thank you” is communicated to me.

It is as if she is saying,

“Thank you for your unconditional love.

Thank you for taking care of me.

Thank you for being there for me.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

And at other times I look into her eyes and I see an endless suffering in solitude.

Tonight, unfortunately, I see the endless suffering in solitude.

As I pass Jess on my way to the kitchen, I notice a tear welling up in her eye as she stares blankly in the air.

The tear is not a public tear which runs down her cheek for all to see, it is a private tear which she holds back hidden in the corner of her eye meant only for Jess to know of its existence.

The tear stabs me in the heart as it makes me wonder if my persistence in trying to cure Jess has added to her suffering.

A quote from the scene of the movie:

“Where Dreams May Come,” when Robin Williams’s character enters into hell in an attempt to save his wife echoes in my mind,

“So this is the guy who won’t give up.

Didn’t anyone ever tell you that too much persistence can look kind of stupid?”

Plateaus remind me of a story I heard David Cone tell about when Robert De Niro was told that David Wells was on set.

He asked, “Who is David Wells?”

Someone answered, “David Wells is the pitcher for the New York Yankees who just pitched a perfect game.”

To which he asked, “What is a perfect game?”

“A perfect game is when a pitcher doesn’t allow anyone to get on base. No hits, no walks, no errors.”

To which he replied, “Sounds pretty boring like nothing happened to me.”

So much has happened in my life over the last ten months yet the results metaphorically show that no one has gotten on base.

No hits, no walks, no errors, and certainly, no runs have been scored.

It seems as if no advancement has been made, of any kind.

Yet, success in my life, like a perfect game with “nothing happening” has been one of the most difficult feats to achieve and has been anything but boring.

I can encapsulate the last ten months in three words, Perfect Game Plateau.

Every day I remind myself and say to the nothing plateau that you are not going to beat me, that in the nothing there’s extraordinary meaning and in my quest to conquer the difficulty of perfecting the nothing plateau lay the hidden gems of life.

JohnA’s Quest.

To beat nothing.

Three words.

Perfect Game Plateau

I guess this is how I attempt to minimize the nothingness – to give it just three words.

Within these three words is an entire story, an entire life.

The dichotomy of these three words, Perfect Game Plateau, have all but consumed my life.

Perfect – As good as it can possibly be.

Game – A competition, played according to rules and decided by skill, strength or luck.

Plateau – A state of little or no change following a period of activity or progress.

Over the last ten months, I have given everything I’ve had to beat nothing.

What bothers me though, is, I know the truth.

And the truth is, I am nearly out of bullets.

I feel like I have done all I know how to do,

I have gone as far as I know how to go.

I hate to wonder if this perfect game plateau is the peak of Jessie’s recovery; as, if it is, she will continue to suffer in perpetuity.

Knowing my persistence may be adding to Jess’s suffering, is, at times, unbearable.

It has created an internal tug of war between my will and my tolerance to pain.

The realization that I may be dedicating my life to a cause that may not produce my intended result weighs on me.

Not for me, but for Jess.

I no longer know what to do, or which way to go.

I question if I have correctly heard the answer to my prayers as what it is I should be doing for Jess.

So I become still and once again ask the Universe for guidance.

The wise words of Wendell Berry arise from my soul,

“It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work.
And when we no longer know which way to go,
We have begun our real journey.”

I guess my real journey and my real work have just begun.

Perfect, I’m ready to win this game and beat this plateau of nothing.