Seems to happen about this time every year... the calendar changes to January and we all start thinking about "Resolutions... NEW year Resolutions". I don't make resolutions any more.. they just depress me when I don't keep them. Instead, I just take a little time to reflect on what made me happy in the PAST year. Since New Year's Resolutions seem to centered around things that will make our life better (i.e., "happier), I like to try & keep my eye on what ACTUALLY makes me happy. Over time, I've come to realize (as I think many of us do as we age) that happiness isn't a destination, it's a path. And it's the little things (the scenery on the path) that give a sense of happiness along that path. It's never permanent, and it's always changing, but there's always the knowledge that there is another happy moment coming along somewhere. It gives me a sense of anticipation to know it's just around the corner, and it also allows me to stop on the path occasionally just to savor the "scenery". Because we all know that there are also "un-happy" moments as well, it's important to look ahead to the beautiful sunrises from fabulous vistas as we negotiate the rocky, difficult parts on the path. AND.. to not be so focused on those potential hard spots that we miss the happy scenery when it's right there in front of us.
An interesting note re: happiness that I recently read: Most of us don't always know what makes us happy. According to the article, this is "due to a phenomenon called hedonic adaptation After an initial rush, we quickly adapt to whatever it is we think will make us happier & soon begin to take it for granted, at which point it no longer brings contentment. For example, when you step into an air-conditioned room on a hot day, you feel great, but after about five minutes, it's simply what it is: comfortable, but no longer pleasurable." I believe this is also why a new job is only exciting for a relatively short time.. then pretty soon we're looking around for something else. To avoid this "phenomenon", I try to thank God each day for the little things that bring me joy and contentment. In this way, I also remind MYSELF of everything that is good in my life.
So... what ARE "a few of my favorite things"? Well, boring perhaps, but here we go:
Clean sheets - if I had money to spare, I'd pay someone to come to my home each day just to change my sheets.
Flowers - Not something I get very often, even for myself, but when I do.. they give a long-lasting sense of contentment.
Games - just sitting & playing a game with my loved ones... you are so much more focused on other people when the tv isn't on! It's a time to just "be".
A beautiful winter night - the quiet and solitude outside in the winter, especially on a clear, moonlit night.. it's beyond words.
A dinner with my loved ones that I don't have to prepare OR clean up. - To just sit and visit and linger. That is contentment.
My dog - Josie is a constant source of amusement, unconditional love and security.
Absence - of bad news, of chaos, of stress
Meeting new people - I LOVE to sit and visit with interesting people who have new stories and experiences to share.
Visiting with old people - figuratively and literally. Sitting with a longtime friend and remembering good times, or visiting with elderly people and learning the surprising stories of their lives.
Music - Sometimes I'll be in the middle of something, and I start hearing music in my head. It's like my own personal soundtrack of my life. Of course, there are certain songs that invoke memories of past good times (and bad) but sometimes, it's just a new tune to my life. Then, I imagine I'm a character in a movie and this music is the soundtrack. It makes me feel larger than life and also encourages me to look around & just bask in the moment.
New Years is a time of reflection and anticipation. Looking back on the trail of the past year, I can see the dark patches of briars & brambles and how they were made bearable by the moments of beautiful vistas and sweet music. And, that allows me to look ahead to the New Year with excitement and a sense of expectation of the majestic. I love new paths - I'm ready to see what's around the next corner!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Memento's
Mom went to her final reward on Wednesday, December 1st. The memorial was Saturday, when we all said good-bye to her. Losing a loved one is always difficult. Jeff’s sister, Julie, passed away last June also. So, we are now facing holidays without key family members.
It’s interesting to me how our thinking changes when we lose someone important. Little things that meant nothing, or almost nothing, now seem quite important. A recent Real Simple magazine had suggestions for what to keep for your offspring. It’s suggestions piqued my thought process. The author pointed out that it’s often the everyday items that become the most meaningful both to us and to those who love us. Items like a concert ticket stub from our first concert. Or perhaps our favorite jeans, or a crayon picture from kindergarten. The point was made that old wedding dresses seem to be everywhere, but wouldn’t you love to have the bell-bottom, flowered jeans your mother wore in the 60’s? Or the apron that your great-grandmother wore in the 1890’s? What about the hand-written letters that your parents exchanged prior to their marriage or while apart due to war or other separations?
It made me look around & take inventory of what things are meaningful. Obviously, we all agree that memories are what really count. The remembered times spent with those we love. But, in reality, don’t many material things trigger those memories? And so, we are attached to specific items, not for their intrinsic value, but for the memories they carry within, the keys they hold to unlock the times and adventures stored in our memories. And, recognizing this, it raises the question - what things should I keep for my children and descendants? We tend to think of “heirlooms”, those big, solid furniture pieces or valuable jewelry or trinkets as the most important treasures. I have bedroom furniture from my maternal grandmother that I prize, a pocket watch from grandfather, a rifle from my other grandpa and even my wedding ring is a tangible link to my treasured ancestors. But… if there were a fire and I had only seconds to grab what was important, what would it be? Have you just sat in your house & looked around & thought about what you REALLY wouldn’t want to lose? It’s an interesting exercise. In my case, it can be somewhat challenging. I kind of pride myself on having nothing in my house that doesn’t have some sentimental value. I have to love it to have it. I buy nothing just because it matches something else. There needs to be a story attached. So, there are a great many things I wouldn’t want to lose – the first (and only) pastel picture I ever painted (and it even turned out kind of good!). The antique library card-file, the dragon or gargoyle statues – they all invoke memories and feelings of connection to my past.
But… but… those are not the things I’d save in an emergency. The items that really touch me, are the (mostly) little things. The picture of my dad & I on the river bank when I was just a toddler. The shadow box we put together after his funeral that contains the obituary, picture, and other mementos of that day. His Bible. A crocheted doily from my mother. Dad’s baby book. My mother’s high school picture. The recipe box from my mother that has recipes written on the back of envelope’s sent to my great grandmother in the early part of the 19th century.
So, I’ve started making note of things my children may find most meaningful once I’m gone (or perhaps even before!). The sweater I have from my Dad, our marriage license, photos, certain cards exchanged with loved ones… who knows what may find it’s way into a “treasure” box? And in this season of bittersweet remembrances of Julie and Mom, I ask you – what do you most treasure and what will you save for YOUR children?
It’s interesting to me how our thinking changes when we lose someone important. Little things that meant nothing, or almost nothing, now seem quite important. A recent Real Simple magazine had suggestions for what to keep for your offspring. It’s suggestions piqued my thought process. The author pointed out that it’s often the everyday items that become the most meaningful both to us and to those who love us. Items like a concert ticket stub from our first concert. Or perhaps our favorite jeans, or a crayon picture from kindergarten. The point was made that old wedding dresses seem to be everywhere, but wouldn’t you love to have the bell-bottom, flowered jeans your mother wore in the 60’s? Or the apron that your great-grandmother wore in the 1890’s? What about the hand-written letters that your parents exchanged prior to their marriage or while apart due to war or other separations?
It made me look around & take inventory of what things are meaningful. Obviously, we all agree that memories are what really count. The remembered times spent with those we love. But, in reality, don’t many material things trigger those memories? And so, we are attached to specific items, not for their intrinsic value, but for the memories they carry within, the keys they hold to unlock the times and adventures stored in our memories. And, recognizing this, it raises the question - what things should I keep for my children and descendants? We tend to think of “heirlooms”, those big, solid furniture pieces or valuable jewelry or trinkets as the most important treasures. I have bedroom furniture from my maternal grandmother that I prize, a pocket watch from grandfather, a rifle from my other grandpa and even my wedding ring is a tangible link to my treasured ancestors. But… if there were a fire and I had only seconds to grab what was important, what would it be? Have you just sat in your house & looked around & thought about what you REALLY wouldn’t want to lose? It’s an interesting exercise. In my case, it can be somewhat challenging. I kind of pride myself on having nothing in my house that doesn’t have some sentimental value. I have to love it to have it. I buy nothing just because it matches something else. There needs to be a story attached. So, there are a great many things I wouldn’t want to lose – the first (and only) pastel picture I ever painted (and it even turned out kind of good!). The antique library card-file, the dragon or gargoyle statues – they all invoke memories and feelings of connection to my past.
But… but… those are not the things I’d save in an emergency. The items that really touch me, are the (mostly) little things. The picture of my dad & I on the river bank when I was just a toddler. The shadow box we put together after his funeral that contains the obituary, picture, and other mementos of that day. His Bible. A crocheted doily from my mother. Dad’s baby book. My mother’s high school picture. The recipe box from my mother that has recipes written on the back of envelope’s sent to my great grandmother in the early part of the 19th century.
So, I’ve started making note of things my children may find most meaningful once I’m gone (or perhaps even before!). The sweater I have from my Dad, our marriage license, photos, certain cards exchanged with loved ones… who knows what may find it’s way into a “treasure” box? And in this season of bittersweet remembrances of Julie and Mom, I ask you – what do you most treasure and what will you save for YOUR children?
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