Lighten Up

Early in the fall of 1987, a group of college friends and I went up Provo Canyon to have a picnic at a park by the Provo River. We had a great time eating, talking, and skipping stones on the river. Toward the end of our time there, our friend Shannon's contact lens popped out and landed somewhere on the bank of the river. She was very upset.

I had a history of losing expensive semi-permeable contact lenses. Today, it would be no big deal to lose a contact lens, but this was long before the days of two-week and one-day disposable lenses. For financially-strapped college students, replacing a lost lens was a time-consuming, expensive, big deal. I was devastated on Shannon's behalf. The group of us looked everywhere in the dirt and grass, but the lens had disappeared.

In the middle of the frustration, our friend Elaine started cracking jokes. She was laughing about how funny we looked scrambling, hunched over, and crawling all over the place. She said something about us looking like gigantic ants. She joked we were the blind leading the blind.

I took Shannon aside, "Hey, sorry Elaine is being so insensitive," I said. "She is making light of this. Seems like she has no sympathy at all."

"Actually, I appreciate her lightening things up," said Shannon. "I think it helps to laugh in situations like these."

What? I was shocked. Laughing about the situation was helping her?

It was the first time I heard that a way to deal with an upsetting circumstance could be to relax, laugh, and lighten up. 

I'm so grateful for that lesson. Since then, I have been in numerous situations where sometimes laughing is all I can do. Lightening up doesn't change the circumstance, but it can help problems feel more bearable.   

Laughter has helped me a lot lately. As I get older, I often think about entropy. I've noticed that if I'm not actively trying to improve, then everything tends to devolve, fall apart, or implode. Rest needs to be built into every day, but so does diligence. Small, steady steps up and forward are usually sufficient. In fact, most days, tiny efforts are preferable. Persistence is helpful. Being cheerfully consistent is even better. 

This long-lasting latex balloon has reminded me I can be cheerful despite my circumstances the past few weeks.

I don't know if it was just tied incredibly well, or if there is a new kind of "hi-float" that works better than the old kind. Whatever the reason, this happy balloon has lasted for almost three weeks. My experience of this kind of balloon is that they only float for a few days then die. I still can't believe this one kept floating for nearly three weeks! 

Yesterday, we started calling it "Bob," because it finally started bobbing lower and lower, succumbing to depleting helium and gravity. Today, it's on the ground. But that's okay. I'm grateful it reminded me that sometimes lightening up is the best thing we can do.

Just as I finished writing this post, my husband (who had no idea what I was doing) coincidentally shared this quote with me by Dieter F. Uchtdorf:

"Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Hope on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizons of our present circumstances."

The Weather

It's been terribly, unseasonably hot in Utah this week. That's gotten me thinking about the weather.

In the early 1990s, my husband and I lived in a village in Suffolk, England called Leiston. Not too far southeast from Leiston, is a little village called Thorpeness. On the edge of Thorpeness, is a popular man-made lake where people can rent rowboats. We liked to go there to feed the geese, admire the swans, row on the lake, and relax. Unfortunately, it was sometimes more crowded than we preferred.

We hadn’t been in England long, when one rainy day we thought it was the perfect time to go to Thorpeness. Since we were from the dry state of Utah, where activities are sometimes cancelled because of rain, we figured there would be fewer people there. We’d quickly and easily obtain a boat to rent. We were pretty sure we'd have the whole lake to ourselves.

When we arrived, the parking lot was full. 

 

We looked at each other and laughed. The lakeside was more crowded than ever with people dressed in raincoats, wearing their wellies, and carrying colorful umbrellas. We had to stand in a longer-than-usual line to rent our boat.

That’s when we learned that the weather did not stop the English. Even with the crowd and the rain, we had a great time at the lake.

The British writer Alfred Wainwright said, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.” I agree. Ever since that day in England, we have tried to not let weather determine what we do outside.

 

But I have to say this current heat wave is something else. I'm not sure I could sufficiently undress to be willing to subject myself to much time outside. Today, I'm grateful for an air-conditioned home. I'm happy to think back on those young, rainy days in England.

Here's a public domain image of part of Thorpeness Meare that I found when Googling:

by Geoff Doggett

First Things First

This picture of my husband and grandson is a couple of years old. It's from a day we enjoyed a picnic lunch with family.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, my husband, who is a program-scheduling manager for software and hardware engineers, has been working from home. He kicks back on the huge green recliner in our bedroom with his laptop on his lap and a second bigger monitor on a stool in front of him. When he works, it does not look like work. Sometimes it sounds like work since he frequently has phone and Zoom meetings where he’s talking and typing away. It’s been great. We’ve been having lunch together almost every day.

A few days ago at lunchtime, he seemed stressed and was eating quickly. It was around 12:50 PM.

“I have two meetings that start at one,” he explained.

“How are you going to manage that?” I figured it was obvious he’d have to choose between the two meetings. He’d probably have to call in for the more important meeting first. Perhaps he’d switch off between the two. “Which meeting are you going to first?” I asked.

“I’ll go to the first meeting first. Then, I’ll go to the second meeting...first,” he said. He didn't explain.

My daughter and I laughed. Later, when she and I were on a walk, we discussed how the only way he could possibly go to both meetings first was if he was secretly a time traveler.

Later, at dinner, we asked him, “So, how did it work out with your meetings? What did you end up doing? Unless you’re a time traveler, you couldn’t really have gone to both meetings first.”

He laughed. “No,” he said, “I was just kidding when I said that. What I really did was...I went to the first meeting first. Then, I went to the second meeting...first.” He said it so seriously. Somehow it seemed he wasn’t joking. We all laughed anyway.

He never did admit how he worked that out.

Where I Read

Yesterday, an Amazon delivery person took this picture of my front porch. You can see the package by the doormat. 

Lately, I've been spending a lot of time reading on the bench there on the left. In the morning, the house provides shade. In the afternoon, a big whitebud tree protects me from the sun most of the time. I love sitting there while I read. 

I do look up from time to time. Sometimes it's when I finish a chapter, when cars drive by, as people walk past with their dogs, or when birds loudly play in the tree. The occasional distractions help me feel grounded in present reality. They give me time to think about what I'm reading. At the same time, I can tune it all out if I prefer.

My other favorite reading location is in the backyard on the hammock. That's best in the later afternoon when it's in the shade. Trees and sky capture my attention from time to time. I'm mostly unbothered when my neighbor's dog barks. The only problem with the hammock is sometimes its gentle swinging lulls me to sleep.

I was thinking this morning about how outside has long been my favorite reading place. I have memories of reading books on beaches, on a balcony overlooking the ocean, up at a cabin in the mountains, on a picnic table, on grass in parks. When I was a teenager, my favorite place to read was up on a platform in the branches of an apple tree. When I was in school, I used to study best outside. 

There's something about the sunshine, about subtle breezes, about fresh air, about nature in general that awakens my mind and allows me to joyfully focus on words on paper. I feel part of something bigger and grander when I'm outside. Being outside enhances my reading experiences.

Of course, here in Utah, I'm talking about the reading I do on gentle-weather days between spring and fall. On rainy or too-hot days, I'm inside. In winter, I'm wrapped up in blankets on the couch or in bed, or reading in a warm bathtub.

I've been reading more than usual this summer. So, unless I'm busy doing mom things, walking somewhere interesting, sitting at my computer, or shopping, that's probably where you'll find me.

Grandmothers

This is part of the mockorange bush on the northwest corner of my parents' home. The sweet orange smell brings back memories. For the five or six years I lived there, my room was right next to that bush.

I spent an hour at my parents' home this morning reading my paternal grandmother's and great grandmother's diaries. I only read two years of my grandmother's out of many more. They wrote mostly about events, sometimes about their health or the weather, and only hinted at what they actually thought and felt.

Those hints include words such as describing some things as "beautiful," "fun," "pleasant," or "darling." Medical diagnoses, illnesses, and surgeries are briefly and factually mentioned. There are heart-wrenching photos that have been repeatedly kissed with what appears to be pink lipstick, particularly pictures of my aunt who passed away in 1966. Letters, newspaper articles, and pictures are tucked inside the books. These are treasures that tell a very small part of their stories.

It's hard not to long for more of their personal thoughts and feelings.

It makes me want to keep writing emotive details about my own life, but of course I have probably written too much! [Thus the need to make a document of excerpts from my 30 plus journals.] My grandchildren will probably say, "Was Grandma Deb ever private? Did she have any secrets?!"

Or maybe they won't wonder, because my hope is they'll hear it from my own lips. Of course I have secrets!

Local Cloud Cover

Yesterday, Memorial Day, my husband asked, "Do you want to do anything different today?"

"Yes," I answered grumpily. 

Despite feeling a little down, I thought it might be interesting to see a town I'd never explored-- Huntsville, Utah. It's about an hour's drive northeast from our home. I was also somewhat interested in seeing the lake near the town, Pineview Reservoir. I thought I'd gone water skiing there when I was a teenager.

I recognized the lake despite the low water level. It was particularly crowded, so instead of trying to find parking we spent time in town enjoying a picnic at the park and walking in the sunshine. 

My personal clouds dissipated.