Then I looked up

Yesterday I had an anti-epiphany. At least I think that’s what it was; I’ve never had one before and I’m not sure about the correct term for what I experienced. Epiphanies are big realizations or sudden flashes of inspiration. What I experienced was more like suddenly remembering something obvious I used to know and shouldn’t have forgotten.

I was driving to pick up my sister and then my oldest daughter to do a little shopping for my wedding in June. I was thinking about table decorations and desserts and dresses and what we would do for dinner later when it occurred to me that it’s been awhile since I’d driven down the street thinking about shopping and dinner – and nothing else. It felt great. Normal. To celebrate, I turned the radio from NPR to a Top 40 station and started singing. Loudly.

Now I imagine everyone goes through similar periods in their lives. One minute you’re routinely thinking about Saturday night or what color you’d like to paint your kitchen; the next it’s all very serious. Money. Health. Family crises. Career. Relationships. Sometimes everything at once. And before you know it, a year has passed – or maybe two – since you cared about your garden or what’s happening in your neighborhood, let alone the world.

At 41, this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been absorbed by matters of personal gravity, but what I didn’t take note of in the past is the actual process of returning to normalcy after heavy times. Then again, maybe I didn’t used to need a formal process. Probably I’m less resilient now in some ways than when I was younger, and therefore more conscious of what I’d like to avoid re-experiencing in the future.

Remember how there was a time when you could fall in love easily, then have your heart broken and almost immediately do it all over again with equal abandon? Yikes. I’m madly in love with my fiancé, but getting to know each other contained elements of a job interview that I would once have found deeply disturbing. While chemistry was definitely a factor, neither of us dropped the reins until we were solid with each other’s personal resumes – from work ethic to parenting style. It was a first for both of us, and awkward in a few spots, but in the end we’re definitely better together for knowing and accepting each other up front.

There are lots of things you can’t control – like, for example, who you meet – but you can control how much you engage with that person. It’s a model that can be extended across many parts of one’s life, and to good purpose. (I’m sorry if you already know this, but since this is my column I can only write from personal experience. Thanks for your patience as I work to catch up.)

Which comes back around to coming back around. It’s so easy to lose yourself when life becomes intense, but that loss weakens you over time. I didn’t realize how much I missed thinking about my kitchen colors, my favorite song and new recipes I want to try because I didn’t make it a priority to keep hold of small pleasures. I feel lucky to have figured this out now; I think it will serve me well in the months and years to come. Even if I am (somehow) simultaneously blessed with health, love and personal success, the world around me is headed for hard times. Oil has topped $100 per barrel; the auction bond market has crashed, jeopardizing the financial stability of thousands of hospitals, schools and other nonprofits; Russia is pushing back against NATO; the war in Iraq rages on. No matter where you look, there’s little to indicate that things are going in a good direction. I predict that very few people will be personally unaffected by what’s happening in the world right now; the days of burying one’s head in the sand of an all-inclusive resort vacation paid for with a home equity loan are about over. So we take control where we can – in our choices about how we use our personal thought space and free time.

My kitchen will be a soft yellow. My yard flowers will be a colorful, wild mix. My favorite song will probably always be Joe Cocker’s“Feeling Alright.” I’ll keep laughing, and I hope you do, too.VS

Don’t you get too lost in all I say
But at the time you know I really felt that way
But that was then and now you know it’s today
I can’t escape, I guess I’m here to stay
‘Till someone comes along and take my place
With a different name, oh, and a different face
Feeling Alright…