I don't need the type of hired help that many people long for: house cleaners, schedulers, errand runners, nor kid transporters. I need people to help me clear my head of all the foolishness I force myself to keep up with. Here are the ones I need the most. (Applications will be taken tomorrow.)
1. Mail Reviewer--In a fit of nostalgia last year I subscribed to nearly a dozen magazines. It was nice for a while, and I enjoyed them. Then the piles of dog-earred, book-marked volumes began to grow. I need someone to go through all the old magazines and organize all those "great ideas" and "future plans" into something I actually stand a chance of getting around to. This lovely person would also be responsible for sorting the incoming mail, combing through the debris of an over-stimulated world for the few useful nuggets of originality.
2. Battery Analyst--This person's never-ending job would be to scan my environs for batteries, separating those that are new from the duds. They would also need to know exactly when any battery in my environment was about to give out. Then, of course, they would produce said battery and perform the replacement operation. Brilliant.
3. Lightbulbs and 4. Leftovers--See #2.
5. (And this is actually the most important of the lot.) Medical Headlines Scrutinizer--There are so many "new studies" and "revised recommendations" and "exploratory drugs" that I cannot possibly keep up. This person would identify, isolate, and research all claims and present me only with those credible crumbs that survive review.
Here's my inspiration for #5: Today's newscasts and web headlines feature the following work of the University of Minnesota as provided to them by the Iowa Women's Study: "Older women who take vitamins and minerals have a 2.4% increased chance of death." That's it, I call bullshit! Look, 2.4% of those women could have fallen on the way to the medicine cabinet. And 2.4 % of those women could have choked when the pills went "down the wrong pipe". I say 2.4% of those women could have gotten into car accidents driving to the store to buy their supplements. Come on already: This is stupid!
And I'll bet if I had a Medical Headlines Scrutinizer I would find I could go a lot longer in between my own trips to buy more acetaminophen! E-gad...
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Starting Out on the Right Foot
I have a new friend, whom I will likely never see again, called Joe.
Joe is a swell guy and a sailor who lives on Amelia Island. He and I happened to be seated together on a plane last weekend--he was coming off of a funeral, I was going to check on my aging parents. We struck up a conversation and then a friendship. By the time we'd arrived at our layover destination, we were having lunch together and looking at pictures on each others' phones. It was a lovely way to start a sudden and stress-probable journey.
But armed with the good fellowship of that first leg of my flight, I struck out on a positive note. I felt a genuine empathy and connection with everyone I saw and spoke to. I assumed the best and for the most part, was right.
Joe was the latest goodwill ambassador in my life. But there is only one person whom I can credit with being the Queen of All Things Good--the lady who quietly taught me how to be myself--Tyla.
I thought I knew "who I was", but I was mistaken. I only knew who I had been told to be. I listened to the old stories and assumed them to be true. Only after knowing Tyla, only after seeing just how a person should move through their life with grace, did I know who I was, who I'd been hiding, and how to be that person.
With Tyla's help I went from being cynical to being hospitable; from loathing to loving. I realized I loved being "Mom" and "Cook" and "Baker". I found my calling in having an open door policy, and can truly appreciate the small but wonderful things like chatting with my neighbor over the fence, helping out the local pet food pantry, and making sure that if the bus leaves a kid behind they know to walk to my house for a ride.
Tyla, if you read this, I hope you'll begin to understand just how many lives you impact by teaching just one friend at a time how to live in beauty and with grace. And as I parted from Joe, he and I both took with us the joy of communion and the invigoration of a happenstance lunch with a newfound friend. As I left my old friends and my family behind on the return flight, I know how touched, how moved many of them were with my transformation--some even said as much.
My good friend Tyla is one of those special angels who, like ripples on a still pond, make the world a far more beautiful place, one soul at a time. "Thank you" will never be enough to say to her.
Joe is a swell guy and a sailor who lives on Amelia Island. He and I happened to be seated together on a plane last weekend--he was coming off of a funeral, I was going to check on my aging parents. We struck up a conversation and then a friendship. By the time we'd arrived at our layover destination, we were having lunch together and looking at pictures on each others' phones. It was a lovely way to start a sudden and stress-probable journey.
But armed with the good fellowship of that first leg of my flight, I struck out on a positive note. I felt a genuine empathy and connection with everyone I saw and spoke to. I assumed the best and for the most part, was right.
Joe was the latest goodwill ambassador in my life. But there is only one person whom I can credit with being the Queen of All Things Good--the lady who quietly taught me how to be myself--Tyla.
I thought I knew "who I was", but I was mistaken. I only knew who I had been told to be. I listened to the old stories and assumed them to be true. Only after knowing Tyla, only after seeing just how a person should move through their life with grace, did I know who I was, who I'd been hiding, and how to be that person.
With Tyla's help I went from being cynical to being hospitable; from loathing to loving. I realized I loved being "Mom" and "Cook" and "Baker". I found my calling in having an open door policy, and can truly appreciate the small but wonderful things like chatting with my neighbor over the fence, helping out the local pet food pantry, and making sure that if the bus leaves a kid behind they know to walk to my house for a ride.
Tyla, if you read this, I hope you'll begin to understand just how many lives you impact by teaching just one friend at a time how to live in beauty and with grace. And as I parted from Joe, he and I both took with us the joy of communion and the invigoration of a happenstance lunch with a newfound friend. As I left my old friends and my family behind on the return flight, I know how touched, how moved many of them were with my transformation--some even said as much.
My good friend Tyla is one of those special angels who, like ripples on a still pond, make the world a far more beautiful place, one soul at a time. "Thank you" will never be enough to say to her.
Homecoming Week
I recently completed a mission of mercy back to the family manse. While it was a heady week of to-dos and details, there were respites in between of absolute joy.
I re-connected with two of my very best friends from high school--we had not seen each other in over two decades--for an evening out. Eight hours later, I think we were mostly caught up on each other's lives, and fully briefed on all the contact information. Now I just hope we can keep in touch and hopefully make plans to see each other again.
I was the one who moved away, so I'm the one who has lost the connection. I got to hear about classmates and what they were up to. I got to see how the whole area--the whole state for that matter--has raised my high school up on a pedestal of football greatness. They even painted the water tower. They have helmets on display in the convenience stores. There are pennants on every lightpole in three towns.
And I had the unrivaled pleasure of spending time with my dear cousin. He and I were inseparable for years and were pretty much raised as brother and sister--not officially, but in our hearts. We had a meal together and closed the restaurant down. Two nights later, I accompanied my cousin and his two precious little girls to a minor league hockey game. If there is such a thing as an enchanted evening, that was one. We had the best time. And even though they are really second cousins, I now have two little "nieces" who call me "Aunt Susie". That was the highlight of the trip to be sure.
I thought I knew why I had to drop everything and make the trip; thought I knew in advance all that lie waiting for me in the week ahead. But I was wrong. For while those obligations were important and necessary, I could never have hoped to fly into town and spring myself on people so successfully.
Many of the big old trees have come down and been replaced with businesses and new homes. Several thoroughfares no longer lead where they used to. Signs point the way to things I've never known. But looking into the faces that have seen me through a large portion of my life and hugging the ones who fought with me the wars of "coming of age", I knew I wouldn't get lost.
You can go home again. And if you keep your schedule loose and your plans flexible, you never know where home might lead you.
I re-connected with two of my very best friends from high school--we had not seen each other in over two decades--for an evening out. Eight hours later, I think we were mostly caught up on each other's lives, and fully briefed on all the contact information. Now I just hope we can keep in touch and hopefully make plans to see each other again.
I was the one who moved away, so I'm the one who has lost the connection. I got to hear about classmates and what they were up to. I got to see how the whole area--the whole state for that matter--has raised my high school up on a pedestal of football greatness. They even painted the water tower. They have helmets on display in the convenience stores. There are pennants on every lightpole in three towns.
And I had the unrivaled pleasure of spending time with my dear cousin. He and I were inseparable for years and were pretty much raised as brother and sister--not officially, but in our hearts. We had a meal together and closed the restaurant down. Two nights later, I accompanied my cousin and his two precious little girls to a minor league hockey game. If there is such a thing as an enchanted evening, that was one. We had the best time. And even though they are really second cousins, I now have two little "nieces" who call me "Aunt Susie". That was the highlight of the trip to be sure.
I thought I knew why I had to drop everything and make the trip; thought I knew in advance all that lie waiting for me in the week ahead. But I was wrong. For while those obligations were important and necessary, I could never have hoped to fly into town and spring myself on people so successfully.
Many of the big old trees have come down and been replaced with businesses and new homes. Several thoroughfares no longer lead where they used to. Signs point the way to things I've never known. But looking into the faces that have seen me through a large portion of my life and hugging the ones who fought with me the wars of "coming of age", I knew I wouldn't get lost.
You can go home again. And if you keep your schedule loose and your plans flexible, you never know where home might lead you.
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