I attended a poetry reading recently wherein everyday folks read intimate, soulful poems inspired by difficulties and deep introspection. It reminded me that we are all on a tenuous line. Some of us may seem more confident than others, and maybe some of us really are, but it doesn’t change the fact that everyone lives with a certain amount of self-doubt. “Do they like me? Am I good enough?” Yes, you are.
Photo courtesy of Jennifer.
Do you recall something your parents told you when you were young? Or perhaps a teacher or friend? Isn’t it amazing what influence a few words can have upon you? Whether words of encouragement or words of scorn, they color our world. They influence our lives.
A perfect example of how words can influence a life is Maya Angelou. Her neighbor-turned-teacher, Mrs. Flowers, encouraged Angelou to read, even taking her to the library to read books there. As she continued to read, Angelou found that she loved poetry. Her teacher would have her come to her house and read the poetry to her and that encouraged Angelou even more. According to Wikipedia, “Flowers introduced her to authors such as Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Douglas Johnson, and James Weldon Johnson, authors who would affect her life and career, as well as black female artists like Frances Harper, Anne Spencer, and Jessie Fauset.” Angelou, who had a difficult childhood, went on to become a successful author, poet, and civil rights activist.
Be mindful of your words to those around you, for you may be influencing their future.
“Resourceful: Able to deal skillfully and promptly with new situations, difficulties, etc.”
When it comes to home projects, my Dad is the most resourceful person I know. He is 87-years-old now and has invented so many devices over the years that it boggles my mind.
Some of his inventions and fixes include:
I was amazed when I grew up and learned that people hire others to do work around the house. It never occurred to me that every house didn’t have a Dad like mine. With a background in construction and vehicle repair, he knew how to do everything – from electrical to plumbing to painting to landscaping to fixing electronics and cars.
I think back now to the many weekends he spent in the basement fixing things or out in the driveway working on our cars. It was great hanging out with him, smelling the wood, seeing him concentrate on his latest device, just soaking up his ingenuity. Maybe we all could learn a thing or two from simply rolling up our sleeves and digging in.
Photo courtesy of PlanoHandyman.
The key to happiness is to spend most of your time doing the things you love with the people you love to spend time with. Simple, right?
Image courtesy of Antonio Thomás Koenigkam Oliveira
I stopped at Kmart recently to return some photo frames that weren’t the right size. It was mayhem. They were in the midst of an event that’s held for families in need: children could come in and receive up to $80 of items for school. They were gathered around their parents, standing in line, running about. It was endearing to see these kids so happy. When I left, I saw a few families sitting on some rocks and the kids were looking through their bags with excitement.
This experience made me think about the things I’ve been focused on lately. We’re redoing the kitchen – not a complete redesign, just updating – and as we’re doing that, we’ve noticed other things that need work or updating. (Have you ever noticed that replacing one item can cost you a small fortune because the surrounding items suddenly appear shabby?) In any case, I’ve been thinking about that. And about my birthday. And about my kids’ upcoming college expenses. All fine things, normal things, to be thinking about. But when I saw those kids, I realized just how shallow my world can be – how protected I am from some of the hardships of life. I hope that, from now on, I spend my time thinking about more important things than the knobs on my cabinets.
Photo courtesy of ann_jutatip
I keep snacks in my car to give to homeless people begging by the side of the road. I don’t like to give them money because I don’t know if it’ll go towards drugs or alcohol or other self-defeating activities so I buy a big box of granola bars or snacks and hand them out when I can.
Recently, on the way home from an Italian festival, my family and I stopped at a stoplight and there was a homeless man holding a sign. I reached in the back and gave him a snack sized bag of cookies. He thanked me, turned around and immediately opened the bag and began eating. My 14-year-old noticed and remarked on how hungry the man must have been . “That’s true, I’m happy we were able to help a bit,” I said.
But that wasn’t enough for him. We had brought home extra food from the festival – a few sausage sandwiches and a bag of sugary dessert. We had already proceeded to our next stop, the grocery store, when my son remembered the food. “What if we gave him that?” he asked. My boyfriend was going into the store to pick up a few things and I explained to my son that he would have to give the food to the homeless man and it may be difficult since we would be driving in a different direction and he’d have to call him to the car. “That’s okay, I’ll do it,” he said eagerly, jumping into the front passenger seat.
So my boyfriend went into the grocery store and I drove back to the spot where we had seen the homeless man. He wasn’t at the corner anymore, he had moved to a grassy area on the riverbank and was sitting with some others. My son hesitated, thinking, and then jumped out of the car with the bags of food and raced across the street to the man. I had to move ahead as the light had changed and leave him there. As he met us at the next corner, I thought, “Wow, that is something to see.” I was so proud of his courage and kindness. I asked what the man had said. With a sly smile, he answered, “He and the others said, ‘Bless my heart.'”
Photo courtesy of Phil Parker.
“And so taking the long way home through the market I slow my pace down. It doesn’t come naturally. My legs are programmed to trot briskly and my arms to pump up and down like pistons, but I force myself to stroll past the stalls and pavement cafes. To enjoy just being somewhere, rather than rushing from somewhere, to somewhere. Inhaling deep lungfuls of air, instead of my usual shallow breaths. I take a moment to just stop and look around me. And smile to myself.
For the first time in a long time, I can, quite literally, smell the coffee.”– Alexandra Potter, “The Two Lives of Miss Charlotte Merryweather”
My family loves to watch “Modern Family” together. My boys tease that I’m just like Claire Dunphy – the organized, overbearing, over-scheduled perfectionist. Tonight, we saw an episode in which a number of the characters were driving together and almost hit a truck. They all experienced varying levels of fear and clarity that life is so tenuous.
Luke decided to pull out his “bucket list” and check off every item, Claire became incredibly aware of how scheduled her life had become, Haley and Alex spent some quality time together. It got me thinking about the things I plan to do “when there’s time.” I run a pretty tight ship and rarely do things that aren’t on my list or calendar happen. I have this theory that people who don’t plan also don’t get anything done.
I actually schedule “R&R” days on my calendar (yes, I even schedule those). This is a day that everyone in my household (including myself) can do whatever we want – no questions asked. Maybe we all (especially the Claire’s) need more of those kinds of days and less of the ones with items to check off.
I know there are different approaches to raising children and I don’t claim to be an expert. However, I do find fault in spanking and here is why: I believe everyone deserves respect. Whether age 1 or age 101, all human beings should be treated with kindness and respect. This is where spanking falls down.
I became a single mom when my children were 6 and 3; it was difficult at times and there are many moments I’d like a “do over.” I only spanked them once though and I’ll never forget it. We were driving down the street and they were fighting. I asked them to stop again and again but they wouldn’t. It was one of those situations when I could feel the anger rising up in me – like a thermostat turning red.
I lost my temper, swerved to the curb, and jolted the car to a stop. I got out, slammed the car door shut, and opened the back door. I will never forget the look of fear on their little faces. I was so angry that I spanked them both once and then got back into my seat. I sat in the silence and thought about what had just happened. Is this what I wanted to teach them? Is this the behavior I wanted them to emulate? I was ashamed to the core.
I never spanked them again. Life wasn’t perfect and I am no angel -I broke some things, slammed some doors and cupboards, stormed out of the house, and spent a fair amount of time crying too. But I never raised a hand to them.
How did they turn out? Well, they’re 17 and 14 now, their rooms are messy most days, they get really good grades, they don’t do their laundry until they’re out of clothing, they love video games, they eat constantly, and they’re pretty typical teens. But they’re respectful and helpful to everyone we meet, and for that, I am truly grateful.
I remember hearing the term, “Don’t cry over spilled milk” when I was young. I never really understood it – why would someone cry over spilled milk? Why not just clean it up?
The point is, don’t overreact when things go south. And they will. Let’s face it, sometimes things just happen – someone cuts us off, hail damages our car, we stub our toe, our hearts get broken. We can’t control others and we can’t control what happens, but we can control how we react. And that is the key: instead of dwelling on and festering over, move on. Just clean up the milk and pour another glass.
Do you remember when you were 10 and you thought you’d live forever?
Do you remember when you were 20 and couldn’t wait for your life to begin?
Here’s the funny thing: life happens when we’re not looking. One day you wake up and realize that you’ve actually lived a lot. You’ve seen a lot and learned a lot and, dare I say it, eaten a lot. Weren’t those french fries great?!
Anyway, my point is that it’s a short ride so make it a good one. Paint your masterpiece, write your novel, climb your mountain. Do it now and then when you’re old and gray, you can tell your grandchildren all about it, over and over again. Just don’t tell them I told you to do it.