“It’s Just Schmutz!"

Some of the best advice my father ever gave me was about dealing with life's messes—literal and figurative.

Years ago, I called him, irate about a rumor swirling around.

The details being tossed around by insensitive, ignorant gossipmongers were completely untrue. I felt the need to respond—to shut down the scavengers eagerly circling someone else’s misery.

“It’s just Schmutz! (Read: Yiddish for Shit),” he said.

“The thing about Schmutz is that when it’s fresh, it’s hot, smelly, and messy—it spreads if you touch it.”

“So what do you expect me to do?!” I snapped.

“You leave it outside. Just leave it alone. It doesn’t mean it’s not there, but there’s no point in patchkering (messing) with it.

Over time, the sun will dry it out or the rain will wash it away. When you finally get to it, it’ll either be gone or reduced to dust—easy to flick away like the Schmutz it always was.”

We all have Schmutz.

Shit happens.

It’s how we handle it that defines us.

Leave it alone. Let it be. Don’t focus on it.

At the end of the day, it’s just Schmutz—it never really mattered.