Ten extensions and lessons

1. Homes have extensions. My dad and his pals built our enclosed back porch.  That addition increased the value of the house and our enjoyment of the outdoors. This extension was a place to gather and relax and showcased my father’s skills.
2. Some furniture can grow. One window opened into the porch. In there, the dining room table was often extended to accommodate a larger group. Those extensions celebrated my mother’s culinary and entertaining abilities.
3. Specific tools need to reach farther. I’m on the hunt for one of those gizmos with a long handle and a squeegee on the end so I can wash the windows outside. Other tools with extensions, like ladders, make work easier.
4. Communication systems connect.  “If you know your party’s extension you may dial it at any time.” Because my dad worked at the phone company we had a telephone in almost every room and in every color. Phone extensions link us and provide safety.
5. Property lines widen. In winter we neighborhood kids could expand our ice skating area across several backyards with some forethought and permission to spray water strategically. That extension of property brought fun.
6. Work and deadlines might shift. When I was self-employed the words “we would like to extend your contract” provided security, boosting my ego and bank account. Extending a due date can lead to better results.
7. Bodies can improve. Amputees are fitted for prosthetics that extend to the correct length and provide functionality. Skilled stylists weave additions onto hair. Part of physical fitness training, particularly for dancers, is extension exercises. There are machines that focus on extension to strengthen, build, and tone specific leg and arm muscles.
8. Life can be prolonged. One hard part of being an adult is making the necessary plans to ensure that our wishes are followed as we ponder if and how we want our lives to be extended, our death to be postponed.
9. Childrearing equals self-perpetuation. I’ve known and experienced a parent who believes a child is an extension of themselves. While this may be true on many levels, it is the separation, the allowing of children to grow and step away that truly develops both the parent and the child.
10. Definitions expand. With words like ‘blended’ and ‘extended’ and ‘family of the heart’ we find acceptance and a network of support.

The legacies we are presenting to the next generation are more than heirlooms. We are also leaving the impact of the intangibles: things like safety, fun, skill development, acceptance, support, loving words and gestures that extend both the giver and receiver’s sense of self, worth, and belonging. So, at the end of his list, I guess the best extensions are a hand for greeting and arms open, ready for a hug.

 

Marilyn

Three lessons from the last three decades

Last week I used the phrase, “if only I knew then what I know now.” That challenged me to list a few kernels of what I meant.

1. Not everything gets resolved. When I was younger I thought there were always answers, even if I knew I wouldn’t like some of them. But I’ve learned that some people leave our lives and we never really know why. Some lifelong struggles will always be there. Despite laws, treaties and good intentions, peoples and societies will ever deal with tensions about differences and old real and imagined hurts or even atrocities in covert and overt ways. There is a reason that “it is what it is” is a truth and an ever more popular phrase.
2. If we always look before we leap we can miss things. We miss the fun of splashing in puddles, shuffling through autumn leaves, or discovering interesting people, art, theories, or activities that could being new dimensions to our outlook. I’ve known people whose world has shrunk. Some element of caution is certainly appropriate, but however caution entered our lives, it is helpful to examine all the ways in which we let it determine our steps.
3. Everyone’s got stuff. While I’ve always hated that one of my challenges was obvious, I have learned that even the most level-headed, kind and seemingly well-adjusted person has their own issues or demons. Some may never address their underlying drivers; some pursue reasons and answers in multiple ways or others talk about their problems incessantly but never search for solutions. Even though we know that there isn’t a sliding scale for awful, and that yes, there are people whose lives are falling apart more than ours, there are days when we each feel we deserve the trophy for “Most Awful Stuff." And, on some days, we should get it. But only some.

Bet you’ve got three of your own lessons-learned-the-hard-way that you could add. Let me know and I’ll share in the future.

Marilyn

 

If only...

...The pilot could have axed down the door
...The police officer and citizen could have communicated
...There were easy answers
...I knew then what I know now
...Church bells and the call to prayer rang in neighborhoods instead of gunshots
...Life lessons weren’t so hard and we didn’t have to keep learning them
...Birds would stay still so I could take the perfect picture
...Things worked as they are supposed to
...The magic that exists in the world cured all ills
...The lure of power that we all have wasn’t most important to some
...We each got one major do-over
...More people meant, “I’m sorry” and then backed it up with some action
...“Have a good one” and “have a nice day” weren’t mandatory phrases
...This list couldn’t go on for pages

Marilyn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Concert etiquette

The last two Saturday nights I have attended concerts. One featured a volunteer orchestra and chorus and the other showcased professionals and students on a musical path. As a side note, there was a bagpiper at each concert.  More important, both nights included annoying behaviors by fellow concert-goers sitting in front of me. At the first one, two women frequently commented behind cupped hands while at the other, the couple’s irritating actions took on several forms. Again there were the frequent whispers, but he bounced in his seat or kept time by bobbing his head or foot. She helped to direct the music with hand gestures. Her head on his shoulder led to smooches.

Here’s the sequence of my internal conversation the first night:

“I’ll bet they’re sisters and they have a father or mother on stage.”

“Do they think they are at home watching a movie?”

“Maybe if I kick the back of their chairs as I cross my leg they’ll stop.”

“I should loudly whisper to my friend, ‘Can you believe how rude some people are?’”

“I should just lean forward and ask them to be quiet.”

“They’re not really being noisy, just rude.”

“Calm down. They seem to really be enjoying the concert and it’s good they are here supporting whomever.”

“Relax and enjoy the show.” 

The other night it was a similar sequence, although that couple’s behavior was much more distracting and I had a harder time relaxing and concentrating on the performance. There were eight year olds in our row who were more polite than those two fifty-somethings. I felt most sorry for the people sitting next to the lovebirds for their seats bounced right along with his and their arms got bumped as she fidgeted to move closer to him. 

There were many years when I would have actually done most of those things that went through my mind. That was until I came to realize that I live by a double standard. Why is it ok when I wave my finger to co-conduct during a favorite piece but not ok for someone else, or for me or my companion to make a private comment but others can’t talk?  

Sure, there are times when the distractions are beyond acceptable and need to be addressed, but norms, things like theater and concert etiquette are changing. I recently enjoyed a movie where we each had a comfortable recliner, a moveable tray, and could order food with the flick of a switch. I’m not keeping pace with these changes and I don’t know what to do about it. Pease let me know if you’ve got it figured out.

 

Marilyn

Are there smells in heaven?

The other day as I was reading the results of a study where people ate less when the aroma of what they were eating was pumped into the room for longer and higher levels of intensity, the odd thought of “I wonder if there are smells in heaven” popped into my brain. And then I wondered why I had never wondered about that before.

So, in the one version of heaven – you know the one where I’m tall and willowy, catching up with my grandmother while petting my cat – we’re in a newly mown meadow drinking freshly brewed coffee with a chocolate factory nearby, behind the lilies of the valley pasture that is walled with lemon trees. There’s also the scenario where our spirits are all in the same place but we each smell only things we love and there are no allergies or scents that will trigger a migraine.

What we hear about heaven both as we are growing up and even as adults can be pretty vague. Streets paved with gold, mansions over the hilltops, treasures, angels, choirs, harps, clouds, pearly gates. Many people do not like uncertainty or too much room for interpretation, so they may take comfort in those literal images and the feelings that they generate.

I know many do not believe in an afterlife. To them, this world, this existence is all there is. Some days I can understand that because this world, this existence, each day is what we all have. My problem is that most days collectively we are screwing this world and our existence on it up so badly that I have to believe there is redemption and accountability somehow, somewhere. Evil perpetrators must be forced to stand in the middle of the worst garbage dump imaginable with whatever smells they hated in this lifetime wafting by for all of eternity.


The images and emotions that I like best are in C.S. Lewis’ The Last Battle, the final book in the Narnia series. Lucy, one of the heroines, picks a handful of wild violets. She tries to convince some stubborn characters that they are not seeing things that are there, but when she puts the bouquet under their noses, they accuse her of sticking filthy stable-litter in their faces.


Does that mean it’s all a matter of perspective or intent? Could be. Lewis is a master at metaphors and these stories end in a place where the children begin new adventures that are just a continuation of the ones they have been on throughout the seven books. I like that idea, the idea that we simply continue on the adventure. That means eons of eucalyptus and wild violets.
Marilyn

Out of the ordinary

We all have our routines and things in every aspect of life that we like and which are comforting. Sometimes it’s nice or even necessary to shake things up a bit and try something out of the ordinary.  Saturday was predicted to be our first day that would be sunny and warmer. A friend and I decided to do something we hadn’t done in a long time. We planned a road trip heading out to rural Illinois.

It was a good omen when I saw a peregrine falcon as I turned onto the Eisenhower Expressway heading west and then heard a cardinal as I got out of the car in my friend’s driveway. It wasn’t long before we saw a cooper’s hawk watching activity zooming along I-80. We passed farmland which is always a nice reminder of the hard work that goes in to meeting the needs on my grocery list. Gas prices were lower than what I’d paid at Costco a couple of days before. At a rest area a man was feeding peanuts to squirrels who were unafraid of those who walked by.

I suppose Main St. in a village is not really all that different from State Street. They both have restaurants and shops and offices that advertise needed services. And, while the Thai takeout, tattoo parlor, and a closed KFC in downtown Princeton (population 7,700) might have been a bit of a surprise, it still had the small town feel that somehow sets it apart from Fifth Avenue. The parking lot at the Coffee Cup diner was full. I like to think that there are locals who breakfast there daily or meet for lunch every Saturday to catch up and that if someone doesn’t show up there is concern enough to go check.

Our own lunch was in a place that I’m sure has Friday night fish fries, Monday meatloaf, and a regular crowd like the diner. There was no piped in music. A patron said, “thank you kindly” to the server. A couple of hours in an antique mall where no one hovered or made browsers feel unwelcome included seeing a Roy Rogers and Dale Evans thermos and various sets of dishes that we have seen come and go. A mounted deer head was $999. Following Route 6 we turned toward Starved Rock where we watched bald eagles soar and dive for food in the Illinois River. Back through Ottawa and LaSalle and too soon we were back in the burbs and heightened busyness.

Memories of this out of the ordinary Saturday will make me smile for weeks, months, years to come. I wish you your equivalent of a rural adventure very soon.

Marilyn

Role models

We all have people we admire, look up to, wish we were like, or seek to emulate. At every stage of life it is comforting to see others succeed where we think we might fail and to see how they overcame. My early role models were Annie Oakley, Ann Sothern, and Annette Funicello. Oh, and Jesus, my mother, and Sandy, our neighbor who was six years older than me. Annie had great skills – she could ride and shoot, Ann had a sense of place with a great office and a comfortable apartment, and Annette was the nice Jill-of-all-trades. As a ‘tween I shifted to Nancy Drew who was surrounded by supportive people and had adventures that included a hint of danger.


Right out of college I met some wonderful women. Robin had taken a man’s job in manufacturing during WW II and fought to keep it when the men returned from the war. She was among the first women to go through training in the Episcopal Church to assist at services, including giving communion. She saved and bought a pretty little blue house and drove a yellow Carmen Gaia. Lydia worked downtown and had a husband whose job had him travelling around the world and who brought her home treasures as well as the little liquor bottles from the airlines. Cinda battled cancer, raised two children, and was a global citizen.


In the Mary Tyler Moore era I was expecting to make it to the glass ceiling within Illinois Bell as I worked my way up the management ladder. I had my sights set on Division Manager. There was one woman who had made it that high and she and I could look eye-to-eye. The best boss I ever had was a woman who gave me great advice on getting ahead and she too believed it was our time to move up.


Do we ever outgrow looking for role models? Somewhere along the way we look at the early ones and either strip away things we really don’t like or even turn away from them altogether. But, even now I meet some free spirit, someone who has a contented full life and half-joking say or think ‘I want to be her when I grow up’ or ‘I want his life.


When I think about it, those people have a few things in common. They are lifelong learners. They accept and enjoy who they are and readily share that person and what they know. They are generous in other ways. While I might not agree with how they go about it, they care about a greater good and have a sense of responsibility to do something.


I realize that a constant through the phases of my life has been appreciating female authors. From Louisa May Alcott to Louise Penny these women have been trailblazers for stories. I don’t know how much they or any of the other real and fictional people have actually influenced my character, outlook, or even success, but I am grateful for the experience of knowing them personally or from afar.


If you had to make a similar list of role models, who would be on it?
Marilyn