Great Wisdom & Humor

A hobby I really love is collecting great quotations. Here are a couple of my favorites:

“Just trust yourself. Then you will know how to live.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“You see, wire telegraph is a kind of a very, very long cat. You pull his tail in New York and his head is meowing in Los Angeles. Do you understand this? And radio operates exactly the same way: you send signals here, they receive them there. The only difference is that there is no cat.” Albert Einstein (Did you know he was a humorist, too?)

Nothing New Under the Sun

Don’t you hate being predictable? I had been waiting to get into gardening. I had this notion that I couldn’t tackle the outside of the house until I “finished” or at least “caught up on” the inside of the house.

Every spring I would put a couple of geraniums in pots and promise, “pretty soon”… “not this year but soon.” I would keep trying to slog away at the clutter, and paint the woodwork, fold the laundry, and so on and so on. Meanwhile I would pore over gardening books and magazines and imagine what I would do with the garden when I finished the house.

After living in said house for more than twenty years, it finally dawned on me that unless I had some sort of personality transplant, I will never finish the house. Or even get caught up. I am “housekeeping-challenged” and I have accepted that. So I finally decided to start on the garden. I started by literally carving out some garden space in the front of the house, two-foot square by two-foot square, I cut patches of grass out in front of the evergreens with a paring knife. I lifted out the grass and kneaded each clump to work out the dirt. I couldn’t wait to dig out the whole bed before starting to plant. So square by square, after the grass was out, I worked in some peat moss and added new top soil, I planted a perennial and added a pink geranium for color. I finished off with pine mulch and admired my work.

It felt great. I loved being outside in the sun. I loved working the dirt with my fingers, and I loved how the little patches looked when I was finished. After I had been at it for a few days, my neighbor from across the street stopped by. “Wouldn’t that go faster if you rented a sod cutter?” she suggested. “Probably,” I replied, “but I like doing it with my hands. It’s therapeutic,” I said with no irony in my voice.

I felt so creative. I had not just planted some flowers; I had not just discovered gardening. I had INVENTED gardening. I had had a similar experience once before. When I gave birth to my first daughter, I was heady with the knowledge that I was the first human being to invent the whole processes of child bearing. Now I knew that no one before me had experienced the wonder that comes from that special communion with nature that produces a beautiful flower bed.

What intoxication! This was the cure for all forms of frustration or melancholy. Just get out there with those garden tools, and in minutes blue moods would be banished. The physical benefits were equally health-giving; surely the digging, bending, lift, standing, kneeling, walking, carrying would bring a new trim to my waist even as they brought roses to my cheeks and to the garden.

I was in love. I was so clever.

Within weeks I read that baby boomers by the millions are taking up gardening. Those of us born between the years of 1946 and 1964 can’t seem to do anything alone. Whether it is attending rock concerts, growing long hair, dropping out of school, or discovering the joys of the garden, we do it in droves.

Keep the Old

Vickie and Dave moved in next door when their youngest daughter, Randi, was 18 months old, exactly one week older than our Jane. When you are growing up, it just doesn’t get any better than having your best friend live right next door. The girls went through all kinds of milestones together: kindergarten, Brownies, going away to camp. They played basketball, coached by Randi’s dad, and swam on the local team for about seven years. They gave up swim team when they reached the age where they were expected to practice at 6:30 AM. At that point teenage love of sleep won out over athlete’s love of the sport.

As the years went on, the girls made more friends, developed different interests and were no longer inseparable. But they still had that special bond that you can only have with someone you have known all your life.

It seems like it was just a few years later that the girls were graduating from high school. There is a special section of the high school yearbook for which parents are invited to submit candid photos of their graduate with a parting wish or bit of wisdom as they leave high school. At the time the pictures were due, my mother who lived with us passed away. The picture was forgotten as I was taken up with all that surrounds the death of a parent.

I never gave the yearbook another thought until Jane came home, smiling and thanking me for the great entry. That’s when I saw what Vickie had done for both of our girls. Two generations of extraordinary friends enjoyed a beautiful thought! Yes that's the entry that appeared in the yearbook.

copyright © Dianne Morr

Buddy Holly

Last week I had the chance to see The Buddy Holly Story at a Drury Lane Theatre in Oak Brook. The glittery decor of red velvet everything and lots of crystal chandeliers Drury Lane makes every visit festive. The production featured excellent musicians and singers. The only thing that surprised me was the audience. Buddy Holly was the ultimate rocker, right? So his fans were kids, right? So what were all these old geezers doing in the audience?

I started watching American Bandstand when I was 7 years old. I remember running home from second grade to watch Dick Clark and all the cool teenagers celebrating rock and roll! Those were glorious days! For the next 15 years I could do all the new dances and could sing all the words to the top 40 singles. I was in the know. I expected the audience to be made up of all those rocking teenagers.

So why was I the only kid at The Buddy Holly Story? The crowd reminded me of the bunch I saw at the Paul McCartney concert at the United Center. Gray-haired grandma types and guys with canes and walkers made up seventy-five percent of that audience. It’s a mystery how, this late in the game, the great rockers are finding a new audience among senior citizens. I didn’t see that one coming.

Three Pages of Magic

If you have looked at my profile, you know that The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron is one of my all time favorite books. I discovered Julia about 12 years ago, and that book changed my life. The Artist's Way shows everyone how to access, or reclaim, their creativity. One of the tools Julia uses is what she calls morning pages. They are three pages of long-hand writing to be done first thing in the morning.

Ms. Cameron says she hesitates to even call this writing because that idea sounds a little intimidating. It's just the physical act of putting down on paper whatever comes into your head. It really does clear your head and eliminate some of the minutia that distracts you during your day. I'd like to say I have been doing morning pages every day for 12 years now, but I'd be lying. My real life doesn't work that way, and maybe yours doesn't either. But I can say that every day that I do write morning pages, I feel better when I have finished. I can also say that the more consistent I am about it, the better I feel. I actually do become more creative, more focused and happier.

So read the book, or just start writing. It's a real day brightener!

copyright © Dianne Morr

While You’re Waiting to Feel Better

According to a new survey, Baby Boomers are the least happy generation. I have experienced depression myself and I have learned a few things to do that make me feel better. (Clinical depression also requires medical care, but these tips help till the treatment takes effect.)

1. It is easier to get out of bed if I have clothes ready to wear. I have a favorite year-round outfit that I try to keep ready to wear at all times. If I wake up feeling like I don’t want to get out of bed let alone go to work, knowing I have something ready to wear keeps me from pulling the covers over my head.

2. Flowers make me feel better. I can sometimes find an African violet for a dollar or a mixed bouquet for five. Then I’m doubly cheered by the flowers and the bargain! My favorite is the Amaryllis kit available at Christmas time. The dramatic shape and color brightens dreary winter days.

3. Writing down my thought calms my racing mind. Sometimes my brain starts ruminating over old worries. Sometimes new fears stir up anxiety. If I pour it all out onto paper, I can relax. I keep a spiral notebook on my bedside table. If I wake up anxious, 20 minutes of writing puts me in a much better frame of mind.

4. Darn it! Exercise does work! I resisted it for years. But when I finally tried getting at least three aerobic workouts a week, I found that I felt much better, even in the winter.

5. Making something beautiful pays tremendous dividends for me. I don’t make crafts regularly, just when I’m on vacation or I need a lift. When I make a piece of jewelry or a floral arrangement, or stamp and paint a flower pot, I enjoy the process as well as the product. I feel creative and satisfied. And I enjoy those feelings all over again whenever I look at my creation.

6. I’ve learned how to find a laugh. Laughs are waiting in the cartoons in New Yorker magazines, and in the Reader’s Digest fillers. I can find them in old movies. A few of my favorites are “What’s up, Doc?” “Bringing up Baby,” and “Breaking Away.” I keep a humorous tape or CD in the car for those times when the news on the radio is just too grim.

7. Getting a massage is a sure-fire, makes-me-feel-better- every-time plan. Massage is one of those special things that release endorphins, your body’s natural antidepressants. After a massage I feel relaxed, pampered, and rested in mind and body.

8. A green spot can beat the blues. There is a great little wooded spot that makes me feel wonderful as soon as I step into it. It feels cool and the sun shines through the leafy canopy. Sometimes a doe is relaxing there, and we sit quietly enjoying the peace. When I can’t get there in person, I close my eyes and imagine it. I feel the peace again.

9. Phoning a friend can take my mind off myself. Everyone likes to catch up with a friend now and then. This especially counteracts the blues that come with feelings of loneliness.

10. Prayer can work wonders. Turning to the Friend who is always there can lighten any burden. Quietly repeating a short prayer helps me to relax. I may not feel an instant answer to my prayers, but eventually comfort comes.
    

copyright © Dianne Morr