Maximum Gratitude, Minimal Stuff

I remember the U.S. Bicentennial very well.  The Semiquincentennial this year (Who even knew that was a word!) is nothing like it. For years leading up to the Bicentennial, patriotic fervor and nostalgia were high.  Every girl in my high school had at least one "prairie dress" – a long, gathered skirt, often in a floral pattern featuring red, white, and blue.  I remember the quilt on my bed – it was also red, white, and blue.  "Early American" furniture and décor had been popular for quite a while.  We had Bicentennial quarters, commemorative stamps, a special Bicentennial license plate on the car, and the nightly "Bicentennial Minutes" on CBS-TV. I also remember reading about the Bicentennial Wagon Train that started in Washington State and traveled across the country to arrive at Valley Forge in Pennsylvania on July 4th.  There was a televised armada of tall ships that sailed from New York to Boston.  My family visited my aunt and uncle who lived in...

As a young singer and actress, I was always in competition with someone.  After all, only one person can get the star solo.  Only one person can get the leading role.  Maybe only one person can get the scholarship or the coveted spot in a graduate program. Viewing life as a competition made me work hard and practice longer.  It made me very attentive to the details and nuances of music and literature.  It made me stay on course despite obstacles.  I've gained many benefits from my abilities to learn, concentrate, and persevere, and I'm thankful I learned those skills at a young age. But a competitive life also stole a lot of joy I should have gained from my art.  It made me selfish and critical – of others, but especially of myself.  It made me cliquish as it narrowed my circle of friends.  And at times, it made me feel worthless when I didn't achieve the success for which I had worked so hard. On the same team There's a better way to live, a...

In a world that's constantly urging us to do things faster and with less effort, there's something radical about choosing to do things slowly and carefully. As internet speeds get faster, microwaves and Instant Pots become ubiquitous, and every task is supposed to be speedy and convenient, it's ironic that most of us feel rushed and short of time.  This raises our stress levels and makes us even more impatient and desirous of quick results.  But fast food wrecks our health, fast fashion wrecks our environment, and fast fixes don't work for the really important things. Taking time to create something over a period of hours instead of minutes is an important part of a simpler life and increases competence, pride, satisfaction, and meaning. Not that difficult For generations before us, slow work wasn't a search for value and creativity in a "full speed ahead" culture.  It was survival.  Just read Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House in the Big Woods .*  Gr...

My toilet has a leak.  Not an awful, room-destroying leak!  Just a small leak from the tank into the bowl.  It's undoubtedly a problem with the flapper or the fill valve.  My husband Jon will take a look at it on the weekend. But in the meantime, the little leaky sound is annoying.  It's not just that it's wasting water (which in California is a bad thing).  It's a sound that doesn't stop.  Like a dripping faucet, it gets tiresome very quickly. Fortunately, while I was bemoaning this state of affairs, I had another thought that almost made me laugh.  Somewhere in the world today, someone doesn't have a toilet.  In fact, my grandparents grew up using outhouses.  I don't think any of them had an indoor bathroom until their adult years.  And my mom spent the first years of her life basically camping in a barn . I can get up this minute, go to the kitchen, turn on the tap, and get a glass of clean, refreshing, life-giving water.  I...

Maybe you've done this too: Bought that cookbook because the diet it detailed would get you back on track to healthy eating and a healthier weight. Bought that exercise equipment because it would finally make working out fun, easy, and a permanent feature of your new, better, healthier life. Bought that trendy, stylin' athleisure because you need to look cute while pursuing your new active life. Bought that face cream, serum, skincare regimen, etc. because you want to look as good as you feel. Bought that water-filtering pitcher and stainless steel water bottle so you could hydrate yourself like the healthy, fit people do. Bought that gym membership, massage package, etc. for the same reasons as above. Bought that Bluetooth headset so you could listen to music or podcasts while you pursue your healthy life. Bought that YouTube subscription so you could listen to music and podcasts without so many pesky ads. Bought that meal kit subscription so preparing healthy food would be ea...

I awoke this morning to discover that I had left the back door unlocked.  All night, all of our belongings were freely available to just anybody – not to mention our sleeping selves! Now, I don't seriously believe we were in any danger.  I doubt that anyone creeps up to our apartment in the night to test if locks are open.  No one comes near. But we all do it, don't we – we lock, and double-check, on the slim and far-out chance that someday, someone might be looking for just such an opportunity. Not too attractive I'm fortunate to live in a fairly low-crime area, but even so, my husband Jon and I don't have much that would be attractive to a thief. Jon's bicycle, maybe – although it's about 15 years old.  He does take good care of it. Our TV and Blu-ray player, maybe – although the TV is a few years old and fairly small, and lots of people don't play any type of disc anymore. Our laptops, maybe – but they aren't in plain sight, and they're old enough...