I Said, "No Mushrooms!"

I’m having lunch at my favorite Thai restaurant. I really do love it. There are exotic flavors, friendly service and a reasonable price. What more could a guy ask for? Well … how ‘bout “No mushrooms!”

That’s what I say. “I’d like the tofu ginger without the mushrooms -- not the black ones or the other ones -- no mushrooms.” Mary, my favorite waitress at my favorite Thai restaurant, writes it down and reads it back to me. She understands. I’m a regular. She barely has to ask me what I want or how I want it since I’m there so often. Yet, I think to myself, “I’m still going to get mushrooms.”

It’s amazing how what we say we want isn’t always what we intend. A friend of mine tells me that whether I like it or not, “results always equal intentions.” I resist -- both in my head and to his face. But time after time, he’s right. I hate that! I believe that my wants and dreams and desires and hard work and drive do lead to successful results when those results are positive. When things don’t turn out the way I want, though, I want to believe that it is someone else’s fault. The universe isn’t cooperating today. Stuff happens. I’m a victim!

I wanted my tofu ginger without mushrooms. Right? I told Mary. Right? My intention must have been to get a fungus-less lunch entrée.

I also want to be healthier. I want to be more trusting. I want to be less stressed. World peace would be nice too. But I have to confront my friend’s universal truth -- results always equal intentions. And at my core, I know that there is something more powerful than my wants. It is my intention. My intention is strong. It works through my subconscious. When there is dissonance between my wants and my intention, the wants (no matter how desirable) take a back seat.

It’s crazy. I know. Why in the world would a guy who has hated mushrooms for forty-plus years -- can’t stand to look at or smell them, finds the texture “icky” and the taste absolutely appalling --subconsciously intend for them to be put on his plate? I will never know for sure. But perhaps … I like telling this story. Perhaps … I like the attention. Perhaps … I remember the thousands of times I had to “suffer” (with the attention of my parents advocating for me) with plain McDonald’s hamburgers that always came with pickles on them. I hate pickles almost as much as mushrooms!

As I write this, I’m already getting worked up about it. My juices are flowing-- the stress juices -- the victim juices -- the “why-does-this-always-happen-to-me juices”. Perhaps I get something out of the experience. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, I’d actually rather have the perverted adrenaline rush that comes from getting mushrooms on my plate than the sweet and exotic and satisfying taste of a mushroom-free meal.

Mary returns. It’s a busy day at the restaurant. She’s moving quickly as she delivers my tofu ginger and my friend’s cashew chicken. She didn’t have time to notice. But you can be sure that my eyes are peeled for them. Before she can even put it on the table I’m searching for one of those slimy fungi. How can I even think that I don’t secretly want to find one? Joy of joys -- tragedy of tragedies -- my search is not in vain. Three of them! And that’s without even digging through the otherwise delectable dish. Mary apologizes and assures me she’ll get it fixed and back out to me. I’m affirmed! Intentions always equal results.

If I really wanted to be honest, I’d have to acknowledge that there are a whole host of reasons why I subconsciously intend for things to happen even though they are in conflict with what I say I want. I get something out of being unhealthy. I get to eat more than I should. I get something out of being untrusting. I get to feel that I have superior information. I get something out of living a stressful life. I get to feel the adrenaline rush and I get to feel welcome in a society that wears stress like a badge of honor.

Mary returns with the tofu ginger. It’s fungus-free. It’s cooler than it would have been when she brought the same plate out the first time. (I’m pretty sure it’s the same meal with the little guys plucked out.) I don’t care. I don’t have to see them or feel them. And Thai spices do a great job of covering up the disgusting taste of mushrooms. It’s still tasty and I enjoy a wonderful conversation with my friend. It’s always an experience.

And an experience was really what I was looking for. This experience offers me a reflection as to how I can get what I really want in life. More accurately, it shows me how to not get what I don’t want. When I no longer intend to have a “mushroom experience”, I’ll probably stop getting mushrooms in my tofu ginger. Thank you, Mary. Thank you, mushrooms.