Happy Valentine's Day!

I remember one Valentine’s Day that happened to coincide with me being in a relationship.  I finally had a man on the right day of the year and I was going to make the most of it.  But everything that day was chaotic and ridiculous: a lot of traffic and driving, the production of “getting ready”, selecting a restaurant with an hour wait, getting home very late and dreading work the next day.  At the end of the day, we were just two tired people, manipulated by aggressive marketing and bending to social norms; me with my high expectations and him ambivalently going along.

We made it to the restaurant and settled at the bar.   We began to chat like the good friends that we were instead of the possessed maniacs we had become.  It helped that the restaurant had a lovely piano bar.  The musician was warm and pleasant and smiled to himself and everyone passing by.  As we waited, my boyfriend talked about a number of things, but mostly about growing up in Chicago.   In a matter-of-fact way, he revealed something very personal and sad that happened in his family.  In that moment, I was not aware of the piano man and his songs, or the crowds of people, but only the words coming from his mouth, and oddly, the lack of expression on his face.  However, I was deeply affected by what he was saying.  He paused and said “I can see your eyes watering up and I really appreciate your care and concern.”   

What happened in that moment had nothing to do with cards, candy, balloons, flowers or jewelry.  It was simply a heartfelt exchange between two people.   It was a moment in which one soul connected with another without shame or pretense.  There was sharing and understanding.   And isn’t this what we all want, to be more fully known, understood and accepted? 

We live in a time in which so many are craving validation and the assurance that they really matter.  Why else would people go to such extreme attempts to be recognized?  We see this everywhere: at work and at home, among the rich and poor, in the media, in politics, at social events, at school and even in religious institutions.   

Fortunately, there is something that we can do.  We can initiate heartfelt exchanges with those around us.  We can take the time to look someone else in the eye and let them know that they matter by listening to their story without judgment.  We also have to be vulnerable and share our story with others.  It doesn’t have to be something sad and depressing.  I’ve revealed embarrassing missteps that resulted in raucous laughter.   

Whether you are alone, with friends, or partnered in some way, I wish you a Happy Heartfelt Exchange Day!  

Hydrangea

The Pleasant Aroma of Fall’s Decay

Fall is my favorite season. I like everything about the fall - the colors, the coolness, traditions and celebrations. My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, is in the fall. It is the one holiday where nobody really wants anything from anybody other than their love, friendship and maybe their food.

I enjoy walking in the fall and the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. Sometimes I walk alone and other times with a friend. I have a walking buddy, Arlene. We walk the Arabia Mountain Trail as it winds behind neighborhoods and into woods, alongside streams and wildflowers on granite outcrops. We pause to admire a flower, leaf or tree. We take photos as if visiting for the first time.

There’s a wonderful woodsy smell in the air that shows up in the fall. I expect the alluring sweetness of spring blossoms. Yet, I can’t deny the welcoming and pleasant aroma from fall’s decay.

The chill in the air, short dark days and the smell of fireplaces sends me straight to my kitchen. Soups, chowders and stews are often on the stove or in the slow cooker. I’m inspired to try out new and savory recipes from seniors lingering in the produce section of the grocery store. But if it should rain, I would forget these things and head to my sofa with hot cider, a blanket and a good book.

As a child, my mother would send me to the basement to retrieve fall and winter clothing. She would be in the kitchen taking down the yellow and white curtains. I remember their whimsical movements against the open window. Their replacements were brown, white and joyless. In my own way, I do the same. I move clothes from one closet to another. I place a fall wreath on the front door and just below, two planters full of mums.

Some are sad when the long summer days end, and with it, our summer play. But, there is a time when we must gather together and come inside. We need things to begin. We need things to end. And fall is that reminder.

“Autumn…the year's last, loveliest smile." - William Cullen Bryant

Labor Day Nostalgia & Considerations

Although special to me, I haven’t always understood the purpose of Labor Day.  Yes, I knew that Labor Day had something to do with labor, i.e. work.  I probably learned about it in history class in middle school.   I didn't pay much attention to the history being taught because I often felt detached or excluded from it. Even as a child, I knew that there was history and then there was the retelling of history.  As a result, my response to American holiday fanfare is always accompanied by a slight roll of the eyes. 

By the way, according to the U.S. Department of Labor, the first Labor Day celebration was in the city of New York on September 5^th in 1882.   Labor Day didn't become a national holiday until 1894.  About 28 states had adopted legislation to celebrate the holiday before Congress passed legislation to make it a national holiday that would be celebrated on the first Monday of September.  Labor Day was created out of the American labor movement and is meant to celebrate the American worker and achievements made to our country’s prosperity.   

"Woman's Work is Never Done "-   From My Kitchen

I often feel nostalgic and even whimsical about Labor Day.   Growing up, Labor Day meant the end of summer and going back to school.  In Maryland, we didn't go back to school until after Labor Day.  My mother would take us shopping to get us ready for school.  Of course, as the only girl in the house, this was a much greater production for me than for my two older brothers.  Every year, there was the constant negotiation with my mother in terms of how many new outfits I really needed for school.  I would try to tell her what some of the popular kids would be wearing and Rudell (ma) would say “Karen, those kids aren't going to do anything with their lives.”  But at some point, the negotiations would end when Rudell said, “Karen, you have enough.”  At home, I would model for my mother – as if she hadn't already seen every piece I tried on in the store and again at the register when she paid for them.  I was pleased and she was exhausted. 

I learned that I’m not supposed to where white after Labor Day.  But when I was in college at Spelman, I met a lot of women from California and they were unaware of this fashion rule.   My roommate was from California and she thought that was the funniest thing she had ever heard.  She was still laughing in December as she was putting on her white pants before heading out to class.   I figured this must be an unwritten rule for certain parts of the country.   I still like the idea of putting away light and airy clothing to make way for fall clothing, cooler weather and the smell of sweet potato pies in the oven. 

Beyond the end of summer, going back to school, wardrobes and shopping – Labor Day is a day in which we should pause and reconsider our work.  Many struggle with work life balance.  This isn't to say that we can ever achieve balance.  Most people spend at least 8 hours at work and 2 hours commuting.  This doesn't account for evening, job-related functions and part-time employment.  Still, there should be time in which we work and time in which we don’t work.  We need to leave, get rest and then return more focused.  We should also consider whether or not we like our work.   If the job isn't fulfilling, does it at least help to accomplish some of your life goals at this stage of your life?  No one should stay on a job that is physically and emotionally draining resulting in un-wellness.     While you may not be able to leave immediately, you can plan your great escape.  I've done it a few times and it was worth it.  Either way, it’s up to us to figure it out - how we work and don’t work –perhaps this is the real significance of a holiday that celebrates the American worker.