Another Amazing Day
I am trying very hard not to freak out (at best) or have a total mental collapse (at worst) over the state of our country. I worry. I want everything to work out. I feel powerless.
I do a little in the political realm, but not much. Because I fear an impending total mental collapse – on either my part (at best) or on the part of someone much much more important (at worst).
I donate to causes I believe in. I support others in their much braver efforts.
But I’m not brave. The author Wally Lamb just posted a short essay on Facebook where he argues with himself about voicing his political opinions. He feels he needs to say something, do something, stand up for what he believes in. But his lesser self knows that it could cost him. People may not buy his books. He could lose his audience. But he cares about the country. He wants to do the right thing. He won’t stay quiet if he needs to speak out.
And I’m not even that brave. I’m not sure if I have more at stake or less. A struggling writer like me needs every single book sale. I can’t afford to offend anyone. On the other hand, what do I really have to lose? I’m not making money writing anyway (although I hope to).
But I do love you guys who read my blog. I don’t want you to go away.
But I have noticed the strangest, most amazing thing.
Because I am not brave, and because I am freaking out, I have tried to calm myself by writing little posts about nice things. Reminding myself of the many little happinesses that I experience every day. I make myself notice them. How can I not feel better when I have a perfect cup of coffee or my own washing machine?
And here is the amazing part. In trying to make myself feel better, I think I may be making you feel better too. Because I have seen a significant increase in subscribers to my blog since November – the likes of which I haven’t seen in quite a while.
Perhaps you too are looking for some small things to feel happy about?
So anyway. Until I am blessed with a stroke of bravery, I am concentrating on the simple joys of everyday life.
It was 57 degrees (Farenheit, for those of you not in the US) – amazingly warm for Connecticut. How nice is that, after I’ve been walking the dog on 9 degree mornings?
So we took our walk – Theo and I. And it was Muddy. With a capital M. Oh what a mess! And what heaven for the pup. There was not a mud puddle he didn’t stomp in. It was so much fun and so awful at the same time. When we returned, I marched him right into the shower. Our guest bedroom has a handicapped-accessible shower, so it was easy to get him in. Also easy for him to jump out. Did I mention that I cleaned that shower and the floor and the walls just yesterday? But what the hell… mopping up is not that hard. And Theo even submitted to the blow dryer (for a few minutes anyway), so he didn’t get on the sofa soaking wet. And he smells good.
Then (after I cleaned up my own wet-doggy smell) I had lunch with my mother. This is always the highlight of my week. My mom – who I write about constantly – is 93, and I love her more than anyone in the world. She’s so smart and so funny. The garbage man got out of his truck the other day to pick up her newspaper for her, and she said to me, “How nice was that! But how bad must I look?”
And Mom gave me mints and Hershey kisses for my purse. She always does. Because she loves me.
Then I went to the makeup store and picked up my eyeliner. I love my liner, but it’s one of those automatic pencil types. Not the sharpen-and-watch-it-get-smaller type. So you never really know when you will run out. And that would be bad. I thought I might be in the danger zone, so I picked up another. And the facial cleanser I like was on sale. Buy one, get one half off. So now I have one for the sink and one for the shower. I don’t have to carry the tube all the way across the bathroom anymore! How great is that?
I came home to a happy nice-smelling doggie, and got myself ready for Zumba.I wore my favorite outfit. Tight gray leggings and a swingy long top with an elephant design on the front. I can really Zumba when I am wearing something pretty.
And guess who was at Zumba? One of my favorite ladies, although I don’t even know her name. She comes once in a while and dances in the back of the room.She’s fabulous. She dances faster than the beat with enormous leaping energy and big, big steps… most of which she makes up herself. The look on her face is always that of Pure Joy. I see her behind me in the mirror – dancing a completely different dance than the other people in the room – and the happiest person there. I can’t stop smiling while I dance the teacher’s version.
And then, on the way home – a minor miracle. I have an old car that I love. It’s a BMW X5 SUV -(I really miss cars with names though, don’t you? Impala. Mustang. Even Beetle. They told you what they were by their names. But X5 – What the heck is that?) Well, it takes driving one to know, but what the X5 is – is a sweetheart with power. Now it’s a 2001 with 185,000 miles, so it has its quirks and we’ve had to sink a sizable wad into it recently. But I love it. And the seat heaters still work – which is like my car loves me and wants me to have a nice warm ass. But anyway, here’s my miracle – minor though it may be. There were a few sporadic raindrops coming down when I left Zumba. The delay action on the windshield wipers is also sporadic. Meaning, mostly it doesn’t work. But the wipers did work tonight. A swipe, a delay, a swipe. Okay cool. Then I hit the highway and the rain suddenly picked up, or rather, picked down. It started to rain really hard. And my wipers stepped up to the plate. Automatically, they just started going, swipe, swipe, swipe. The rain sensor on my old car hasn’t worked in maybe six years. And tonight, it worked.
My wipers were sort of like Helen Keller in “The Miracle Worker” – They remembered water. They remembered what to do! “Wah-Wah” my wipers said.
I may not be brave. I may not be the best Zumba dancer.
But I am the Annie Sullivan of car windshield wipers!