My writing friend is a good influence. Somehow she encourages philosophical prattle and slight irreverence in me whenever we get together. The other day we met to discuss petty, yet important, dramas and strains in our lives.
“I just realized that no matter how bad, sad, or frustrated I feel, I’m not the only one feeling this way. That’s sort of a bummer,” I whispered as we sat at the end of the mystery section in the library. “Why can’t it just be about me? Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen, not even Jesus,” I half sang.
I believe Jesus is quite aware of my woes. Just as I am aware of the woes of others. This is what I mean about her influence. She made selfish, whining words roll off my tongue. It was liberating. Maybe that was her intention.
”Write that down” she exclaimed excitedly. And of course I did because that’s what we do.
The day’s discussion got pretty deep as we discussed writing goals. She intimated she was aiming towards a large manuscript. “My point is I want to have a point,” I confessed.
“Write that down” she directed.
I don’t know if I made up that sentiment about making a point, or read it on a poster in the early 80s.
That happens. Phrases that resonate are like discovering buried treasure when all you’re doing is lazily digging your fingers in the sand. “Enjoy your next trip around the sun” popped up on social media one year. That’s brilliant. Who came up with it? Euclid?
”I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired” my buddy Mike said after we taught skiing all day in a blizzard. I had never heard anything so original, so grumpy, so perfect. It was like he channelled the old grousing crabs who sit in the box seat at the theater on the Muppet Show.
It became my go to response when I knew my crankiness and frustration was out of proportion to the situation at hand. It would be great printed on a rubber bracelet as a reminder to snap out of it.
Research shows that activist Fannie Lou Hamer originally used the phrase in a more serious way. Bromley ski school had nothing on the Jim Crow South.
Later on the drive back to town I said, with a bit of alarm, ”Wow it’s hard to see. These snowflakes are huge”. The blizzard hadn’t let up. “Well, don’t try to hit them” Mike said calmly.
With that advice, my grip on the steering wheel softened and my body began to relax.
Just because you’re driving in a blizzard doesn’t mean you need to hit the flakes. Wait. Did we just make up a slogan for an inspirational accent pillow?
As a wedding gift, a childhood friend gave me a glittery blue bumper sticker that had bold white letters saying “One day at a time”.
What an incredible bit of advice. It could be an inspirational cross stitch done by Mrs. Walton or Ma on the Little House on the Prairie. The message was clear, life is filled with challenges, keep calm.
I was only 30 so the AA connection didn’t register.
I proudly stuck it on to our tractor but now wonder how many people driving by over the years wondered which one of us was in recovery.
That marriage didn’t last, but the sentiment did.
That’s the wonderful thing about seemingly trite phrases. Pretty much everyone gets them; however, our interpretations may be different. When we make fun of them, we are actually doing ourselves a favor. It transmits a message from the brain to the nervous system that says “Chill out man, you aren’t alone, there’s a special place in heaven for you.”
Maybe that’s my point.
Alexandra Langstaff 