And the Children Will Lead the Way

As so many of us are struggling to find our way through the current crisis, we are looking for strategies and ideas.  Where are the silver linings?  What is working to distract us from the horrors of the evening news?

I listened to a fascinating interview yesterday on the podcast Lovett or Leave It from Crooked Media.  A psychologist shared some very tangible strategies for keeping our mental health strong. Strategies include turning off the TV as the images can stay with us long after we want them to disappear, finding things to do that bring us joy (his favorite was watching Tiger King..um okay).  Getting outdoors and moving our bodies is another great tried and true tactic.

But I think the best guides for us in these difficult times are children.  If you have children or grandchildren, you know that they are experts at finding joy and fun in most everything they do. Their secret weapon is their imagination.  They dress up, they make friends from their stuffed animal collection, they play with sticks and rocks.   They lose themselves in books whether they can read them or not.  They run around outdoors in all kinds of weather.  Visit the neighboring elementary school playground during their afterschool program and you will see kids wearing shorts and t-shirts even when there is still snow on the ground.  Weather, what weather?

Kids have an uncanny way of being in the present.  At my beloved summer camp, I watch girls throw themselves into all kinds of fun.  From lying on their belly in the field looking for four-leaf clovers to hooting and hollering in the dining room when a special dessert comes out of the kitchen. Camp provides endless opportunities for boisterous fun and for quiet contemplation which is why it is such a special place for both children and adults.

And at the heart of the simple philosophy of camp is the practice of imagining yourself as the person you want to be.  If I were the person I want to be in this time of being quarantined at home, what would I be doing?  I would be exercising my creativity. I would be trying to be kind and loving to my husband.  I would be reaching out to friends and family.  I would be appreciating the beauty that surrounds us. I would be exercising compassion for myself and others and I would be looking for ways to experience joy.  Many of these practices come quite naturally to children.

My granddaughter Mabel is a bundle of energy and spirit and joy.  She lives every day filled with exuberance and fun.  Would that we could all be so lucky to live that way. Here's to finding your youthful spirit friends and to being the person you want to be, even through the most challenging times.

The Fine Art of Puttering Around

My Dad was a great putterer. My husband is pretty good at it too.  Me?  Not so much.  But I'm working on developing this skill.  Here is how Merriam Webster defines it:

To spend time in a relaxed way doing small jobs and other things that are not very important. 

There is an element of aimlessness in this activity.  That's probably why I've never been very good at it as I don't really do "aimless".  I'm a girl with a plan who likes to get things done. I'm a girl who likes to feel accomplished.  I'm a girl who has spent way too much of my life striving to stay busy. Now there are lots of people who are really busy these days. Of course there are the health care workers who are crushed. There are the teachers who are learning how to teach students remotely.  There are the parents who are working at home all the while trying to home school their children.  These folks are really busy.  But for many of us without the distractions of life and people and purpose, we are learning to putter around.

Here's what puttering looks like in my household.  I have a wonderful office that I love.  I look out the window at a beautiful Vermont landscape, complete with a gorgeous barn. I know.  Lucky, right?

I have lots of pictures and books and projects nearby.  I have a piano in the other room with stacks of music.  I have a ukelele that I have sworn to learn how to play.  I have a collection of percussion instruments from my days as a camp counselor and a music teacher.

I have a craft collection just waiting for me to jump into a project. Bead wind chimes anyone? Beaded handle salad servers? The supplies are there, I just need the will to actually do it.  I have stacks of books and plays just waiting to be read.  There are boxes of photos- a lifetime of photos of moments both precious and every day calling to be organized. The garden calls to me. The asparagus, strawberries, garlic, and raspberries are all doing their thing. I have big plans for a cutting garden this summer. 

Shockingly, it feels that some days I do none of these things.  The kitchen stays empty, the books unread, the photos in their storage box.

I need strategies to putter around?  Lose the to-do list.  Let go of the pressure and deadlines. Add music or not?  Is puttering better when there is smooth jazz or show tunes in the background? Is puttering better with a buddy?  I think not.  It's probably fine to putter alongside someone else but the point it to move slowly doing small jobs that are not important. The buddy system inevitably introduces the "honey do list".  Of course, the expectations from someone else about the things you should be doing aren't exactly in the spirit of puttering around. 

This will be a work in progress for sure. For the expert putterers out there- what are your pro tips? Sharing them will be a great gift to those of us who are GOING INSANE.

But for now, here's the vision I am holding onto.  One day soon It will be warm and sunny.  We'll be singing around the piano, creating fabulous garden art, talking about the wonderful books we have read, eating delicious tomatoes from the garden, scheming about our next theatrical adventure.  And we'll be doing it TOGETHER.  Dear God, I cannot wait.  Who's in? 

What Happened to My Sunny Disposition?

As I return to this blog after a protracted dry spell, I am struck by the irony in the name of the blog-  Remember What You Know.  When I began writing here 5 years ago, I felt that there was often deep wisdom to access as we move through life, that even as new experiences presented themselves, there was some "knowing"  that would help me navigate and understand. So I try to always remind myself to trust my instincts, my intuition, my innate knowing.

But here's the rub.  Nothing about what is happening to our lives right now feels familiar.  There is no "knowing'. There is no historical context.  And it all happened so damn fast.

I have been thinking alot lately about optimism and the power of positive thinking.  I am truly one of those eternal optimists.  I wake up just about every morning feeling cheerful and hopeful.  Or at least I used to.  My husband and I joke about our diametrically opposite outlooks.  He, a trained architect, is always thinking about the worse case scenario, anticipating the worse.  I, on the other hand, choose to focus on the promise and the possibilities. This makes for an interesting marital dynamic. As the current nightmare began to unfold, I held out hope for as long as I could that all would be well and we would get through it with minimal disruption and heartbreak.  And as my anxiety mounted, my husband remained cool as a cucumber looking at me with a shrug and that "told you so, I knew it was going to be bad" look that is so insanely irritating from a spouse.

So now we have been housebound for almost 5 weeks and the daily news reports have been an avalanche of bad news- an empath's worst nightmare.  How can there be this much suffering, this much horror?  What kind of dystopian nightmare are we actually living through?

The other dynamic at play is that apart from being an optimist,  I am also an extreme extrovert.  I thrive on being out in the world with people.  I thrive on doing what I love which is making theatre and music.  This theatre-making that I love so much is a team sport.  Not only do actors love to perform for an audience but they thrive on doing it together, with other creative souls.  All of my upcoming theatre projects have been put on pause with no clear sense of when we might return to the spaces where we gather.

The other great joy in my life is spending summers at a camp for girls in Vermont.  I live for the summerime when I can be at my beloved summer camp, surrounded by children and young adults, perched on the side of a beautiful lake, singing and playing and living in a warm and vibrant community.  It is unclear whether camp will happen this summer and if it does, how will the experience be altered. If we are unable to return to camp it will be a devastating blow not only to me, but to the hundreds of kids and their families who yearn to return to this special place where they can be their best selves.

So in the face of all of this, it's very hard to stay upbeat and cheerful,  to maintain my optmistic nature.  So I do the best I can and appreciate what we have.  We live in a beautiful place.  We have space, we have a big garden that will no doubt be spectacular this summer.  I have a devoted dog who is about the best companion a girl could have in a pandemic.  I have a new flock of chickens and 12 fish who survived the winter in our fish pond. And of course I have a wonderful husband.  We've had 36 years to practice "getting along" and we're doing just fine.  So these are my companions for now.  I sit with all of them every day and dream of a brighter future.  I miss my friends dearly.  I weep when I think about how long it will be before I can see my sweet granddaughter, Mabel, or my kids in Denver. But it won't be forever.  Sitting at home for a while longer is a small price to pay to help us get through this horror.  And I trust that my sunny disposition will return soon. And on the bright side, here I am returning to this blog.  That is definitely something to celebrate.