How to Practice Yours
OK, ok, I know many of my readers looked askance at this blog’s title. You think I don’t know you, but I do. Just let me assuage your eyebrows-raised, lips pursed questioning.
In the first place, some of you might raise the question, “How does she talk about something she doesn’t even have?” Or perhaps some of you doubt the entire premise, as you say to yourself, “What’s next? Practicing breathing?” (Notice, I refrained from saying, “Mumbling into your morning coffee with eyebrows raised.”)
A personality is a personality is a personality. I know many of us have remarked, usually, about our grandchildren, “Doesn’t she have the most sparkling personality?” Contrarily, we might mumble, “That kid’s dumb as a brick and doesn’t even try to be personable.” Of course, that is not said about our own precious grandchildren!
I was visiting with my sister earlier and we were talking about “giving yourself permission” to do or to be this, that, or another. The subject of multi-tasking came up, and we both booed and hissed under our breaths at the thought of multi-tasking. For those of you who are younger, you might not realize that persons of (ahem) “a certain age” have a lot of learning to do in the sunset of our lives. I mean, everybody thinks the “Golden Agers” just lie about in their recliners waiting for a child or grandchild to entertain them.
Well, get ready to swallow your words, because we have a lot to do.
One of those things is to restructure our lives to eliminate the “jump and grab, try to do as much as possible as quickly as possible - also known as the “git-er-done” mindset. Changing a lifetime of go-go-go and do-do-do is nearly impossible. But hand it to the “older generation” to take on such a herculean task. Don’t forget the “Greatest Generation” saved the world from Hitler—even while not knowing how long one had to accomplish it!
When you are young, you think 40 is old, when you’re 40, you’re eyeing 60 as a possible slowdown bullseye to aim for. That’s why some younger folks mistakenly think of their elders as “old crabs” or “unchanging grouches.” They just don’t understand.
We stand on the precipice, judging how we might totally annihilate 60 years of struggle and practice and determination in order to live whatever years are ahead. (Yes, Myrtle, I always washed my dishes as soon as they were dirty too. Back when I knew I had to do that in order to “live the good, right, just, venerable” life." “Oh, sure, Doris Jean, no one would ever have come into my home to find my bed unmade, or the floors not shining.”). It was our duty and responsibility to do the impossible.
to raise perfect children
to always have the car washed and vacuumed on Thursdays to be ready for church on the weekend
to have the family clothes, not only washed, but washed and ready to “break starch” as those little feet tried to get into full-starched, “Sunday clothes”
to do the grocery shopping and food prepping so that if company should come home with your family for Sunday dinner, everything would be delightful
Our lives were full. And really, really busy. Well-planned. Effortless. Exemplary. (Applause, please.)
Now? Not so much.
If anyone shows up, you can always warm up the cold coffee from breakfast and put out a saucer of store-bought cookies.
A very dear friend of mine once said she rose early to help in the church nursery, careful not to waken her husband. She hadn’t even turned on the closet light. At church, she ran around in the nursery, greeted visitors, and was “practically perfect in every way” (as Mary Poppins brain-washed us to be, and so, we sat the kids in front of the TV to watch and learn from her wisdom).
After settling the nursery, her husband joined her for church. You can imagine her horror as she glanced down at her tired feet and gasped audibly. Here she sat in church with two completely different shoes on her feet.
I encouraged her not to feel too badly. After all, shoes all look pretty much alike, anyway.
With great sorrow, she said, “No, you don’t understand. One of them is navy and one of them is black.”
I did my best to console her with, “Well, those are pretty much alike.”
She looked at me with sad eyes. “No, you really don’t get it, do you? One of them is a flat, and the other one has a two-inch heel!”
And now you’re scratching your head and wondering what this blog is all about. OK. I guess you’re ready for the punch line. (No, that shoe thing wasn’t the punch line.)
As I prepared to share my thoughts with you, I ran into a quote I’d saved many years ago. “Oh, I love this quote!” It was from Anne Morrow Lindbergh, from “A Gift from the Sea.” She wrote:
“If one sets aside time for a business appointment, or a shopping expedition, that time is accepted as inviolable. But if one says, “I cannot come because that is my hour to be alone”, one is considered rude, egotistical, or strange. What a commentary on our civilization.”
“If one sets aside time for a business appointment, or a shopping expedition, that time is accepted as inviolable. But if one says, ‘I cannot come because that is my hour to be alone,’ one is considered rude, egotistical, or strange. What a commentary on our civilization."
