No matter where you go or what you do in this life, there will always be one person that you keep running into: yourself. You’ll spend every second of your life with YOU, so why not invest all that energy and effort into getting to know yourself?
To tie together last week’s thoughts on hand-written letters to my daughter and this week’s thoughts on parenting, here’s a gem of a letter from a mother to a daughter…
In January of 1919, Margaret Mitchell was away at Smith College when her mother fell ill with the deadly Spanish Influenza that was sweeping the globe. Margaret rushed home to Atlanta from New York. Her brother met her at the train station with the sad news–their mother had died the day before. As they made their way home, he gave Margaret the following letter that their mother had left for her.
January 23, 1919
Dear Margaret,
I have been thinking of you all day long. Yesterday you received a letter saying I am sick. I expect your father drew the situation with a strong hand and dark colors and I hope I am not as sick as he thought. I have pneumonia in one lung and were it not for flu complications, I would have had more than a fair chance of recovery. But Mrs. Riley had pneumonia in both lungs and is now well and strong. We shall hope for the best but remember, dear, that if I go now it is the best time for me to go.
I should have liked a few more years of life, but if I had had those it may have been that I should have lived too long. Waste no sympathy on me. However little it seems to you I got out of life, I have held in my hands all that the world can give. I have had a happy childhood and married the man I wanted. I had children who loved me, as I have loved them. I have been able to give what will put them on the high road to mental, moral, and perhaps financial success, were I going to give them nothing else.
I expect to see you again, but if I do not I must warn you of one mistake a woman of your temperament might fall into. Give of yourself with both hands and overflowing heart, but give only the excess after you have lived your own life. This is badly put. What I mean is that your life and energies belong first to yourself, your husband and your children. Anything left over after you have served these, give and give generously, but be sure there is no stinting of attention at home. Your father loves you dearly, but do not let the thought of being with him keep you from marrying if you wish to do so. He has lived his life; live yours as best you can. Both of my children have loved me so much that there is no need to dwell on it. You have done all you can for me and have given me the greatest love that children can give to parents. Care for your father when he is old, as I cared for my mother. But never let his or anyone else’s life interfere with your real life. Goodbye, darling, and if you see me no more then it may be best that you remember me as I was in New York.
Your Loving Mother
Today is my first day of this new year. I am so glad.
The Navajo identify the Mountain Bluebird as a spirit in animal form, associated with the rising sun. The Bluebird Song is sung to remind tribe members to wake at dawn and rise to greet the sun:
OK, it’s Monday night and I’m high.
High on life. Coming off a nine day vacation straight into a new job. Where I get to do interesting things with people whom I genuinely like. At home, I find myself surrounded by loveliness. A sparkling jewel of a pool. The wildflowers and roses in the backyard are singing in the rain. Our grill still has gas in it from last summer. I paid all the bills and had some dollars left until payday. The children are acting like Von Trapps. It was Father’s Day and they made hand print art in a wide variety of adorableness.
That kind of high.
Here’s a good soundtrack to that kind of high. It’s called “Follow Your Arrow” by Kasey Musgraves, from her album Same Trailer, Different Park. Get ready to whistle for the rest of the day! I don’t listen to the radio much these day (or the Pandora-Sirius-youtube-interwebs either) so it took an episode of CBS Sunday Morning to introduce me to this album. One listen to one song and I was on amazon buying it!
On another note (I promise to tie all this together, but first, to make a long story longer…), I’ve started subscribing to Seth Godin’s blog on the advice of my friend Michelle. He’s a marketing guru (so is she!) but his daily thoughts on customer service, viral marketing, social media, etcetera get me thinking. The other day, his topic was“Angry Is a Habit.” Here’s an excerpt:
It’s easy to imagine habits like a scotch after dinner, biting your nails or saying, “you know” after every sentence. An event or a time of day triggers us, and we go with the habit. It’s easier than exploring new territory–it’s merely a thoughtless response to an incoming trigger. But emotions can become habits as well. Distrustful is a habit. Lonely is a habit. Generous is a habit.Happy is a habit. Because I’m happy today–and that “happy” translates to a complex combination of rested+energetic+validated+challenged+cherished+nourished+useful–I see happy things all around me. All around me in the same flea-bitten trashy house filled with the snot-nosed kids and the piles of laundry. Seriously, we are so behind on laundry that I wore maternity underwear today. And they weren’t exactly baggy. Whatever!
But when I’ve had the chance to follow my arrow for a while, I get back to this happy place. Just now, I looked over and saw Jinx the cat asleep on my cesspit of a desk. I saw the little kitten my dad rescued from a trash can instead of the teetering stack of bills and magazines. It’s 10pm and the kitchen still smells like the dinner dishes that are stacked in the sink, but that wrecked kitchen means we have plenty of food and I made a tasty meal from it. Carlos still didn’t eat it, but he manages to thrive on a diet of bananas and air with some dog hair stuck to the bananas.
I tried to grill hamburgers tonight, but thunderstorms put an end to that. So I broiled them, but they were still pink inside after 30 minutes and the smoke alarm going off twice. So I fried those bastards in a frying pan right on top of the stove. And while I waited for them to cook, I looked out the kitchen window and enjoyed watching the butterfly bush drinking in the rain.
Well, when I get this high (ON LIFE), I start to ramble I guess. And I want to eat cake and Doritos, but that’s typical for any night.
So go make lots of noise, kiss lots of boys, kiss lots of girls if that’s something you’re into…when the straight and narrow gets a little too straight…follow your arrow wherever it points.
What are you seeing differently today? Which way is your arrow pointed?