Best and Highest: Ice Cream Chocolate Cake and Cocoa Tean
Finding Your Magnificence When Life Serves You the Test Before the Lesson
"Seriously though, I gotta lose this weight."
I said that—and meant it with sincerity and purpose—as I opened the ice cream and scooped a healthy serving on top of a warmed and waiting piece of chocolate cake.
Yes.
I saw the irony, too.
But at that particular moment, ice cream therapy seemed like the most reasonable solution available, as Nigerian movies returned to being my company of choice.
And somewhere between spoonfuls, dramatic movie scenes, disappointment, and disbelief, one question kept circling:
What the hell just happened?
When Life Gives the Test Before the Lesson
Life has an annoying habit of allowing us to learn the lesson after the test.
As an educator, I find this immensely bothersome.
My natural tendency is to try repeatedly to reverse that order. Teach me the lesson. Give me adequate time for guided practice. Let me ask clarifying questions. Perhaps provide a study guide.
Then administer the test.
Life apparently does not subscribe to sound instructional practice.
Sometimes the test arrives.
And there I was.
I had constructed what I believed was a well-orchestrated plan grounded in no expectations, self-worth, boundaries, purpose, and enough principles from my MAGNIFICENCE™ Framework to convince myself that I was prepared.
Then came butterflies.
Heart palpitations.
Hope.
Connection.
And that dangerous little possibility that perhaps I was falling in love—or, at the very least, had found myself a really good friendship.
Then life handed me the examination.
Apparently, I had studied the wrong chapter.
Pass the ice cream.
Sometimes Things Don't Work Out
Listen.
Things don't work out.
In love.
In friendship.
In business.
In basketball.
Plans fail. People disappoint us. We disappoint people. Timing goes wrong. Expectations creep into places where we swore we had none. Sometimes two people can experience the same relationship and walk away with entirely different understandings of what just happened.
That is life.
And somewhere between the last drop of melted ice cream and the final crumb of chocolate cake, I found myself laughing.
Because nothing hurt.
It did.
Not because everything suddenly made sense.
It didn't.
I laughed because sometimes, after crying, questioning, analyzing, replaying, and trying desperately to understand every detail, you arrive at the profoundly sophisticated conclusion:
Well...damn.
And strangely enough, that can be the beginning of peace.
Embrace What Was
I came to a simple conclusion.
Embrace what was fully.
Do not rewrite the beautiful parts simply because you did not like the ending.
Do not manufacture regrets to make separation easier.
Do not convince yourself that every laugh was fake, every good moment meaningless, or every act of kindness calculated simply because something eventually hurt.
It happened.
You experienced it.
You learned from it.
Some of it was beautiful.
Some of it was painful.
Some of it may remain confusing.
Let all those truths coexist.
Then resist bitterness with everything you have.
Bitterness is expensive.
It charges interest against the present for debts incurred in the past.
And eventually, if we are not careful, it begins to borrow against the future, too.
No.
Self-reflect instead.
Be honest about your contributions—the good ones and the not-so-good ones.
Ask yourself what you did well.
Ask yourself what you ignored.
Ask what you learned.
Ask what you will do differently.
And then release yourself from the courtroom.
You do not have to spend the rest of your life prosecuting someone else or defending yourself.
Wish Yourself the Best and Highest Too
Then came another realization.
I often speak about wishing people their highest and best.
Their well-being.
Their prosperity.
Their peace.
Their purpose.
Their healing.
And I mean it.
But sometimes we become so committed to wishing the highest and best for everybody else that we leave one very important person off the list:
ourselves.
You are included.
Wish them peace.
And wish yourself peace.
Wish them love.
And remain open to receiving love.
Wish them purpose.
And return fiercely to yours.
Wish them prosperity.
Then stop apologizing for wanting abundance in your own life.
Wish them healing.
Then tend to your own wounds.
The highest and best is not something we nobly distribute to everyone else while surviving on emotional leftovers.
You deserve some of those treats, too.
Preferably, apparently, served warm with ice cream.
Laugh, Breathe, Keep Moving
Lastly—and certainly not least—get a good damn laugh out of the whole situation when you can.
Not everything requires another analysis.
Sometimes you need to laugh at yourself.
Laugh at life.
Laugh at the plans you were certain were foolproof.
Laugh at the fact that you announced your weight-loss intentions approximately eleven seconds before putting ice cream on warm chocolate cake.
Then breathe.
And keep moving.
Cry.
Then stop.
Frown.
Then smile again.
Rest.
Then try again.
Do your best in small increments until, little by little, your best begins filling your cup again.
And one day it overflows.
That is enough.
Some Seasons Are Ice Cream. Some Are Cocoa Tea.
There are seasons for ice cream and warm chocolate cake.
And there are seasons for steaming cocoa tea.
One cools.
One warms.
Both can comfort.
But chocolate taught me something else.
Heat changes its consistency.
The heat warms the cake.
The heat boils the water for the cocoa tea.
And yes, darling, the heat at the gym might eventually help deal with the consequences of all that blasted cake and ice cream.
Everything has its season.
And perhaps we do, too.
So put in the headphones.
Turn up, Kes.
Hit the gym.
Walk.
Write.
Work.
Dance.
Teach.
Build.
Pray.
Laugh.
Do whatever healthy thing reminds you that your life did not stop simply because something did.
Then remember:
You are Cocoa Tea.
Life may apply heat, but heat does not automatically make you bitter.
Handled properly, heat can change your consistency.
It can deepen you.
Soften what needs softening.
Strengthen what needs strengthening.
Reveal what was already there.
And help you discover a richness you might never have experienced at room temperature.
So embrace the heat, darling.
Not every fire deserves you, and knowing when to remove yourself from one is also wisdom.
But do not automatically fear every season that makes you sweat.
Some seasons are changing your consistency.
Some are reminding you to include yourself when you wish everyone else their highest and best.
And some are simply reminding you that tomorrow is another day.
So have the ice cream when you need it.
Drink the cocoa tea when you need that, too.
Laugh when the laughter finally comes.
Then get up and keep moving toward your own highest and best.
Because through every temperature, every season, every disappointment, and every delicious, calorie-laden detour, one thing can remain constant:
Your Magnificence.
Stay sweet.
And when life turns up the heat?
Remember—you are Cocoa Tea.
