Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, February 24, 2021

It’s been years since I listened to Linda Ronstadt’s “Ooh, Baby Baby.” Oh, how I wore out my record playing it over and over. I couldn’t listen enough. I still have the 45, but these days, it’s easy to add the song to my Amazon Music playlist and repeat it endlessly with one touch of the repeat button. I’ve missed the steady, soothing beat and Linda’s smooth, calming voice belting out the heart wrenching words. I listened and refamiliarized myself to the lyrics, and a wave of emotions and memories flooded into my mind. 

It was 1981. The younger me felt my way into the adult world, going through the motions of what we were expected to do to make a mark in the world. I spent my afternoons at HBJ doing data entry after mornings as a full-time college student. I didn’t have much time for socializing, but I continued to hang out with a few high school friends. One, in particular, was Vincent. We were buddies. I met my late husband Mark through him when Vincent invited us to his BBQ at the house he was housesitting for his Aunt and Uncle. 

Vincent never said in so many words, but I think he regretted having invited Mark and me to the same party. We never talked about it, but I don’t think he expected Mark and me to end up dating—or did he? I still haven’t figured people out, but I was getting my first taste of the games people play about this time.

One Friday evening after work, Vincent surprised me outside HBJ and drove me to a restaurant out at Fishermen’s Wharf. Soon, another surprise, Mark walked in and joined us. From the look on Mark’s face, he was just as dumbfounded to see me there as I was to see him. By then, Mark and I had been dating for about a month. Vincent invited us for dinner but didn’t say why. Mark looked as confused as I felt. We were both quiet while jovial Vincent was having the time of his life. Up to this point, except for the awkwardness that I felt, it wasn’t unusual for three friends to dine together. What happened afterward, however, changed us forever. 

After dinner, we headed to our cars. We parked a few cars away from each other. Vincent opened the passenger door, and I began climbing in when he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I freaked out more concerned that Mark might have seen that and misunderstood than my wondering why Vincent did it. This was the first of a series of similar episodes that eventually got Mark and me talking, which revealed the game that Vincent was playing. That night after dinner, as we walked to our cars, Mark told Vincent that he wanted to drive me home. Vincent shot that down by saying that he picked me up, and my mother would wonder why someone else was dropping me off. I added that Vincent picked me up from my office. It wouldn’t have mattered since my mother had no idea who picked me up. Another time, Vincent said to Mark, “May the best man win.” It stumped Mark why he said that. The more notes we compared, the more we realized we were pawns in a game.

Games can be enjoyable, but when people are the tokens on the game board, that’s when it gets tricky. There’s too much at stake playing games with people. You might reach a point of no return. In this case, we saw Vincent’s true character, and our friendship ended. One day, if I ever see him again, I’d like to ask him, “Was it a game worth playing?”   

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, February 23, 2021

One of my girlfriends texted me a moment ago thanking me for a card that I sent her. She said it made her happy because she gets little contact, thanks to Covid-19. Every experience is new for her this year since she became an orphan recently. I guess, regardless of your age, when you lose your last parent, you are an orphan. She was the caregiver for her father during his final years, making this shelter-in-place that much harder for her. I know her loneliness and the void that she has been feeling very well. Holidays and unique markers hit home the hardest. It may not be the same markers for everybody, but we all have them. That goes for many people isolated thanks to Covid-19 preventing gatherings and visitations. Dr. Jen Ashton said that people are suffering from “skin hunger.” That’s a new concept for me, but it makes a lot of sense. People need human contact. A daily hug goes a long way. A year without human touch is a long time. I feel it.

Since we can’t give or receive hugs for who knows how much longer, we need to get creative. Luckily, there are alternatives to letting others know we care and are thinking about them. Unlike me, not everybody is big on social media. I love social media. I am thrilled when my peeps post, and I get to enjoy whatever it is that they are doing vicariously. My day brightens upon seeing that life goes on despite the pandemic, our trials and sufferings, and even loss. My world would be a very lonely and sad place without social media. You might have to visit me at the looney farm after the pandemic ends.

We can always use ideas. I’ll share some here, and I welcome your suggestions, too. Feel free to share your thoughts. Here are some creative ways to keep in touch: text, email, phone, social distanced walk dates, virtual dinners, drop off food, errand runs, grocery shopping, and of course, the good old fashion pen to paper—a card or a letter.   

I’m a huge fan of texting. It’s such a quick and easy way to chat or check-in. Since I’m hundreds of miles from my family, my sisters and I have an ongoing group chat where we check in daily. It makes it so easy for us to keep in touch. Email is another option, as is a phone call. Some people prefer the old fashion ink and stationery, and some are super artistic and creative, making it more a gift than a piece of mail. These days video calls are an excellent alternative to meeting face-to-face or talking on the phone. Sometimes I think the timing of this pandemic was good, thanks to technology.

Every time my friend Carol goes shopping, she shops for her elderly neighbor and her elderly mother, too. Some of us have dropped off meals at each other’s homes, and that’s one way of making up for not dining out with each other. Other friends have weekly family dinners virtually together via Zoom or FaceTime. Some friends walk together, socially distanced, and that’s one way of hanging out safely. One day outdoor dining will resume. I’m looking forward to that as I miss being with my peeps. One dear friend has already invited me to a fresco lunch on her patio. I am so looking forward to that. Until more openings resume, there are many alternatives to keep the love flowing. It doesn’t matter what we do as long as we reach out and let someone know that we care regularly by spreading a touch of kindness.

A Moment in My Life – Monday, February 22, 2021

Since the pandemic, there hasn’t been much going on at the park across the street until this Saturday. There were people in the park! How do you like that? Before Covid became the way of life, there was much ado at the park. Kids of all ages exercised their bodies, lungs, and minds while getting their daily dosage of Vitamin D. Parents attempting to relax on the grass exercised their lungs with the occasional hollering at their kids as a reminder that they were there for a reason. The lungs on those little people. The lungs on those big people. You know it’s bleak when you miss those lungs, the rackety laughter and shrieking voices that drift uninvited through your windows, stealing your sense of peace. Every day after school and on the weekends, they returned to remind you to appreciate the serenity when they weren’t around.

Week after week, I peered out my window, and the blanket of fresh green grass spread before me—no little person or critter bending the strand of grass or shaking the sporadic daisy. No voices traveled through my window. In the beginning, the still peace smiled across my face from ear-to-ear. Month after month, nothing but the quiet, still grass filled my vision. My smile spread cheek-to-cheek and soon lip corner-to-corner. Life is for living. The park’s beauty welcomes a disturbance with feet trampling across the grass, denting the strands, and the daisies thrive being held delicately in between curious fingers adoring the bright yellow and white of this creation. There is a time for quiet and a time to fill our ears with voices overlapping each other in words and laughter with the occasional shriek of excitement. 

There were no soccer games or bouncing balls slammed against the basketball courts’ backboards, but there were about a dozen people outside the clubhouse swaying left and right, dancing behind the instructor. I stood on my tippy-toes, marveling through the window at the synchronized movement, and I could imagine the song that was too far to reach my ears. A smaller bunch of older people made slow and precise gestures that flow from posture to posture in their Tai Chi routine nearby. I glanced farther right, and a couple of little ones entertained themselves on the vivid yellow, orange, and green playground. A distance away on the grass, a young couple conversed over a beverage in their little world. Compared to pre-pandemic, this wasn’t much, but it was people. Excitement surged through me, seeing the existence of lifeform at the park. I’m sure the human in me will complain about the annoying noise disturbing my serenity when the pandemic is history. Yet, for now, I relish seeing people living their life as normal as possible by enjoying a Saturday in the park.  

A Moment in My Life – Friday, February 19, 2021

Green is not in my color wheel, but sometimes you have to make an exception. This is one of those times. The color green is warming to me. Now, when I see green, I think of vitality. Envision my caricature with starbursts radiating out of my eyes. A huge smile spread across my face with mounds of green vegetables in front of me. That’s what I’m talking about. Who would have thought I could get so excited at a heap of greens? Not me, but it happened. It all started when I read about the benefits of green juice. Let me tell you something. I was never much of a juice person, to begin with. I enjoyed a small OJ if I were out to breakfast with someone. That was the thing to do, and I complied. On a couple of occasions, there were those mysterious moments in the middle of the night when I would crave ice-cold orange juice. If we had OJ in the fridge, I would glass up and gulp it down right in front of the fridge to satisfy my sudden craving. That was the gist of juice in my life.

A few years back, I quit juice altogether when I learned that it was better to eat your fruits than juice them. Once juiced, the longer it sat, we had more of a glucose problem that would spike our blood sugar levels. No thanks. Who needed that?

Juice to me was always fruit juices. The only vegetable juice I had was V-8, but I knew that we weren’t going to become best buddies from the start. Remember that old saying, “Older and wiser”? Old sayings are worthy of attention. I’m older now, and thank God, wiser. Although, I think it’s more a matter of timing. Now is the right timing for me to appreciate green juice. Winter makes it harder to partake in a cold salad. The best of my intentions didn’t seem to result in more cooked veggies either. I needed to do something. It was meant to be when I read about green juices in the book “Younger.” My eyes widened with each word I read. Something about this green juice excited me. Before I tried it, I felt the energy that enlivened me, and once I drank that first glass of green juice, everything I expected while reading came to life. I felt stronger, energized, content, and more alive.

Greens have so many beneficial properties, like protecting our bones and preventing inflammatory diseases. They contain high antioxidants, vitamins, minerals, and fiber while remaining low in calories. A diet rich in leafy greens can reduce the risk of obesity, heart disease, high blood pressure, and mental decline. Lutein in leafy greens is terrific for eye and skin health. And get this, you can reduce weight, too. Alrighty. I need all of this. We all do.

Just a handful of a few different greens make a 16-ounce salad in a glass. Immediately, I felt like a new me. It filled me like I ate a meal. Perhaps that’s the slimming part—a nice bonus. Knowing this drink has the power of vitality—giving continuance of life, and knowing that it’s slimming, too, encourages me to keep juicing. I never thought I’d be drinking juice, but it feels right. I’ve had two glasses so far, and my scale went down two days in a row, my skin glows, and I feel invincible. I’m a juicing advocate now—no turning back. I figure if I’m going to make juice, I’m going to make it green.

Here’s the basic recipe that I’m starting with and revising as I go: one handful of each (slightly chopped): kale, romaine, parsley, spinach, three celery stalks, and one English cucumber, lemon juice to taste, and a couple of ice cubes run through the juice function of a high-power blender.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, February 18, 2021

When you talk with people, you learn all sorts of things. Like, acronyms you hadn’t heard of until that day. Afterward, you can’t unhear it. You’ll hear it everywhere. That’s what happened to me. The other day, I told a friend that I felt overwhelmed and exhausted by these long meetings that I’ve been attending. I needed a break from them. I don’t want to attend them anymore, but I won’t know what’s going on if I don’t. She ever so calmly said, “That’s me. I have FOMO.” Huh? FOMO? What’s that? 

FOMO is the “Fear of Missing Out” defined as “a constant need to take part in as many things as you can because you fear missing out on them.” Interesting. I never knew there was such a thing. Now, I hear it all over the place. Also, interesting, I didn’t know that about her. Once she shared some examples, aha, I saw what she was talking about. That explains a lot. It took forever to get a text response from her. She’s busy from the start to the end of each day. She rarely slept. Forget about taking a day off. I’ve never even heard her take a few hours off, let alone a day. Keeping up with her schedule drains me. I tend to run myself ragged, but eventually, I need my hermit days when I shut out the world and rejuvenate. 

She was rarely home. Home was just a place to store her stuff. I always thought her lifestyle was due to her popularity. I never guessed it had to do with FOMO. She revealed that if something was happening, you had to be there. She must try everything. She had to be included. She overcommitted. 

I don’t think I have FOMO. My dilemma with my meetings is a stand-alone issue. What’s the opposite of FOMO? Another acronym invisible to me, JOMO, the “Joy of Missing Out.” What does that look like? I Googled, and here’s what I found, “it is where you simply relish the time alone, unplugging emails, texts, and all social networks, and simply cultivating your very own relationship with yourself.” Nah, that’s not me, either. Regardless if I’m busy or a hermit, I always make time for my networks. I do enjoy my alone time, though, but I have no problem responding to messages throughout my personal day if I get a message.

I wondered what cause FOMO. Google says, “sadness.” That might be true for a small number of people. I can’t imagine for all. I have never seen my friend sad, ever. She’s happy-go-lucky and the go-with-the-flow type, which cancels out the sadness probability. Google also said social media exacerbates the problem. This part I get. I grew up with the old saying “keeping up with the Jones,” and some folks got into a lot of trouble competing with others. That’s where social media comes in. I don’t get it. I don’t know why some people feel they need to pretend they are what they aren’t. I tend towards gullibility. If you show me a picture of you in front of the Grand Hotel, I believe you, and I’m happy for you. I wouldn’t suspect that you were staying in the 2-star motel next door.    

I haven’t done a lot, but I’ve done enough. I don’t need to experience everything. I’m content. We do what we do because we’re all striving towards the same thing—finding happiness. It’s subjective. The key to happiness is having a heart of gratitude, and everything else will fall into place. That’s my belief. Pondering all this, I am neither FOMO nor JOMO. What about you?

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, February 17, 2021

After four days of being a hermit, it was time to go hunting down some grub. If not for the news alerting me to all the noise in the world of shootings and attacks, I knew nothing living in the peaceful woods of my uneventful town. No, don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for excitement in my hood. I’m just telling it like it is. If I didn’t watch the news, I would be oblivious and think I live in Pleasantville. 

No sooner did those words come out of my mouth did I stand corrected. I snailed behind the big pickup, listening to my playlist and not minding that we were going 15 in a 25-mph zone. In my little Veloster, I couldn’t see beyond the protruding truck ahead of me. I assumed he was following cars ahead of him, preventing him from going faster. As soon as we made it to the block where the right-hand turn lane started, I swerved into it. Just as my view cleared, my mouth fell open when I saw nothing in front of that truck but space. Why was he turtling? Before I could think further, he made me jump when he decided he wanted what I had—the right-hand turn lane and forced me into evasive action and honked! I spooked him long enough to dash ahead, and he followed behind me like an injured little puppy. One down.

Something about being out on this day didn’t feel right. It felt like when I was back in driver’s training when I felt unsure of where everything was in the car. It felt disconcerting. It was adding to my paranoia. You see, days ago, friends alerted me of the new crimester who expanded to my little town and was still on the loose. Some black Infinity was shadowing solo female drivers waiting to pounce and rob them. Before leaving the house, I told myself to be on my best vigilant behavior and be crystal of my surroundings: meaning, no listening to music on my errand run.

What I needed to add to my checklist was no deep thinking while driving. Why? Because my thoughts were distracting me from the onsetting claustrophobia. I could barely make out what my car, VPea, was trying to say through her shrieking, “Can’t breathe!” My lane tightened. I glanced over to the service truck in the right lane next to me, and he got way too fresh and squeezed into my personal space. I slowed down to move away from him. Hey, if he wanted my lane, he can have it, just not with me in it, that is. No sooner than after I fell behind him, he retreated, favoring his right side. What just happened? Was it me? 

By now, I was feeling pretty insecure, but I kept going. The fun kept coming. Not too much later, I was in a double left-hand turn lane with another big GMC-type truck to the right of me—each of us minding our own business. At this point, I forgot about the earlier incidents. That’s the magic of music for you. We both accelerated on the green. Before I landed in my lane across the intersection, I pressed down on my brake when I felt claustrophobic again. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, eyeing the older man in that truck, and he was straddling the line. We had three lanes to choose from. Where I was, I was committed to the fast lane. Whereas he had the middle and right lanes yet he was greedy. He had to make sure I didn’t get my one lane. What’s up with that? In a bit, he eased into the right lane heading onto the freeway. What that means, my friend, is that he never wanted my lane. He was just a lousy driver. That’s what that means. That man seemed utterly calm and oblivious to what he had done. Scary. Good thing I was paying attention for both of us.

By this time, I couldn’t wait to get back to Pleasantville. The fun wasn’t over yet. I guess I didn’t get the complete lesson that the world is a crazy place. Before I got to Westborough and El Camino, I encountered another older man out for his Sunday drive and couldn’t decide which lane he wanted. The only thing clear to him was he wanted to keep me out of my lane. Really? Again, another line straddler! What’s up with that? Listen, people, this isn’t helping my confidence once bit. 

That’s it. I had it. I’m going home. Home, sweet home. Almost there. Wait. There’s a Toyota Yaris parked on the street blocking my driveway. I was sure the driver who was scrolling his cell would move once he heard my garage door open. Hilarious. He didn’t budge! I pulled up next to him and waited, and he was oblivious. There’s that word again. Is everybody oblivious today? Now, there was an SUV patiently waiting on my tail. I got ready to honk the Yaris driver, but he got un-oblivious and slowly scooted forward. And I mean, slowly. Hey, don’t mind me and the SUV. We’ll just block the street while you take your time moving up and blocking my neighbor’s driveway. I was sure he’d scoot back after I pulled into my garage. He didn’t right away. A while later, I looked out my window when Ring.com alerted me to movement outside. It was that Yaris. He backed up, blocking my driveway again when my neighbor backed his pickup onto his driveway. The Yaris sat in front of my driveway for ten more minutes before taking off. During that time, my neighbor loaded up his bikes on his pickup bike rack, but it didn’t spook the idling driver. I tell you that Yaris driver had the nerves of steel.

Lunatics. Lunatics, all of us, out on a full moon. Wait. It’s only a quarter moon. I don’t know then. The way I felt, which was not like myself, I thought I was a lunatic out there feeling my way along the road. Maybe these other drivers, except for the Yaris idler, were feeling the same vibe as me and struggling to feel the road, too. Nah, they were just bad drivers. They were greedy, line straddling bad drivers. I wanted to blame it on the full moon. Luna means moon. I wanted to believe that the moon was causing drivers to do crazy things, acting like lunatics, but I’m afraid that the moon had nothing to do with it. For me, I need to keep my driving practice so as not to lose my ability. I don’t know what those bad drivers’ stories were, but I hope they stop being road lunatics that might get them into an accident. Tomorrow is a new day. Next time I’m out errand running, I look forward to a dull, uneventful experience. I seriously don’t care to run into more luna-tics.

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, February 16, 2021

For some people, it’s an easy task to toss everything out without a blink. Whereas, nothing on this earth can make other people part with their goods, i.e., junk. It doesn’t matter that they would never use those items—even if they don’t work. They are not letting go. Some people kick themselves for wasting real estate storing junk—junk, also known as mistakes, products that don’t deliver as advertised but cost a pretty penny.

I fall in with the third group. I was known as a packrat, which came in handy when I lived in studio apartments. I’ve been morphing into a minimalistic lifestyle—a long way to go—but I am traveling that path. Ridding of things around the house got easier and easier, but one area was my frailty—personal care products. My stash grew with age—literally, age. As age prevailed upon my skin while the fountain of youth in my backyard rusted, I desperately sought man-made alternatives. 

The question I kept asking myself, “How is it possible that I’m indoors 99% of the time now, yet I continue to reap the UV damage that ages me?” Product after product I bought. Product that reverses aging of wrinkles, sagging, dark spots, and so on. During the early months of Shelter in Place, my dark spots faded, giving me false hope. Like this pandemic, everything that has happened is new to me. The first day I went out and stood in the maze line at Costco for a couple of hours, I returned home to find those faded dark spots had darkened with a vengeance. What is going on? Lesson learned. Staying indoors made my skin more prone to the UV rays. I began using sunscreen with 110 SPF religiously, which also protects from computer screen radiation. It finally made sense why we should wear sunscreen all the time.

Alas, you have to play the numbers game before you find the product that works for you. Many reviewers raved about the products that I tried, but it did nothing for me, leading me to believe that it is subjective. I would imagine the products have to work for someone to stay in business. They didn’t work for me. Something on the market has got to work for me! I bought into a small shopping bag filled with skincare products over the last year that showed a minor improvement if any. I think what improvement I thought I saw was only wishful thinking. 

Every time I looked at the accumulation of dud products, I sighed. I dreaded wasting the money on them. I kicked myself for not having returned them when I could. Now, the dilemma plagued me. I spent some money on these. I didn’t have the heart to toss them in the trash. I wanted to give them away. Who could I give them to? I finally got out of my comfort zone and did it. The only option I have is to toss them. I placed everything in a clean, clear garbage bag secured and contained in itself and threw it in today’s trash. Since I don’t know who to give them to, but in this way, hopefully, whoever finds the bag will be able to rummage through it for a product that they can use. After all, borrowing from the adage, “one gal’s trash is another gal’s treasure.”

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, February 10, 2021

I hear you chuckling. Don’t be shy. I know we all want to know the key to beauty and sex appeal. It becomes more evident with each passing year as we get a teeny bit older. Okay, honestly, age has little to do with this desire. Let’s face it. We want it, period. How we look mattered when we were little kids in school. It was important when we were teens, young adults, and every age after that. It just matters. Maybe more than it should, but that’s the blatant truth. We all want to be beautiful and sexy, and we are, in our unique ways. It’s just hidden beneath layers and layers of whatever. That whatever is different for each of us.

I recently learned that how we look has a lot to do with everything that goes on, or doesn’t go on, in our lives, from our DNA to our diets, sleep habits, lifestyle choices, including whether we smoke or drink, to how we handle stress. Stress plays a significant role in our wellness. Who woulda thunk that? Had I known, I would have taken stress management more seriously. When I attended the 3-hour wellness seminar, I considered skipping the stress hour to shave off some time from the workshop. I thought I had stress under control and didn’t need more information. I worked hard finding parking, so I decided to sit through the last hour and hear what the speaker had to say. In hindsight, the most pivotal takeaway for me was the stress management techniques I learned that day, along with the impact stress has on our cells. That was a life-changing seminar.

Conquering stress wasn’t enough, though. I am learning that everything we do affects and shows on our skin. Maybe not immediately but in time. That means that we can’t hide or lie about how we treat ourselves. Scary, right? It makes sense that everything in our body works together. I know I’ve been starving myself from sleep, and that’s one of my top priorities this week, along with getting back into a steady workout routine. I began working on my diet habit a while ago, and I slowly add a block of improvement to my foundation each week. How we go about improving our wellness is subjective, so I won’t go there. The bottom line is to improve our lifestyle as a whole: diet, sleep, water, exercise, and stress management.

In most health articles, that’s where it ends. Additionally, we need to do a little more for our skin health, which is the bottom line for beauty. I loved suntanning growing up without considering the damage it would do to my skin, from aging it prematurely to tattooing my skin with dark spots. Ugh. That’s my archenemy. I’ve spent a pretty penny on products to eradicate the dark spots to no avail. Now, I learned that I need to keep my skin clean and healthy, and in doing so, that would allow my cells to work as I clean; it would restore my skin from the inside out. Our good lifestyle habits work with our skincare habits to present the best us possible. And, most importantly, I am now an advocate for sunscreen!

When we look in the mirror, the reflection we see will make or break us. We’ve all been there. I’ve had days when I did not like what I saw. Oh, that would be most days, but once I began taking better care of myself, the reflection in the mirror no longer made me cringe. I’m not saying that I suddenly see a supermodel in the mirror, but I see the best me possible at that moment. I see a healthier glow, and that gives me hope. Simply taking steps to treat me better, my demeanor improved. 

The other day, I ran errands feeling good inside and smiling throughout the trip. It felt like I walked around with my personal sun radiating everything near me, sprinkling sunshine on everybody around me. Everybody smiled back in response. I didn’t know why that was happening, but I loved it. I felt great. I felt beautiful from the inside out. After I began reading Dr. Harold Lancer’s book “Younger,” I understood why. 

This quote says it all, “Your own self-image is the key to beauty. If you are confident, full of life, and passionate, you will be irresistible; you are more than what you see in the mirror. If you are self-conscious, insecure, and trying too hard, you will telegraph your poor self-image to everyone in countless unspoken ways. If you feel good about yourself, people will respond positively to you. Self-acceptance and confidence are the foundation of beauty—and sex appeal.”

I am encouraged by this quote. I won’t lie. I’m one of those people who strived to be beautiful with sex appeal, failing miserably. Sure, I have images of certain celebrities I am obsessed to resemble at one time or another. Beauty and sex appeal are subjective. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It’s true. Meaning, you can’t please everybody. Ultimately, the only person we should please is ourselves. We have to look at ourselves in the mirror, and it’s essential we like what we see. Remember, beauty and sex appeal are subjective. Beauty radiates from the inside out—the body functions as a team. Treat your team well, and you will know the key to beauty and sex appeal.

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, February 9, 2021

When we began wearing masks, I commented that nobody could see me smiling at them. Smiling was my preferred greeting. I tend towards the shy side. Saying “hi” wasn’t my thing, but a smile was. How many months has it been since we began donning masks? Well, now I am singing a whole different tune. Masking up was hard for me. It took me long enough, but I arrived. Practice does make perfect.

I am preaching to the choir when I say that we never imagined we’d be living the way we lived this past year. Nobody knew we’d be in this “temporary” lifestyle for so long. We are ingenious people with innovative thinking, and we rise to every occasion and make do with the hand that we are dealt. It’s heartwarming hearing stories about people using their talents for good in some way.

It has also been difficult for many people to acclimate to this new “temporary” climate like an uninvited and unwelcome houseguest that won’t leave, but nothing you could do about it. 

I am neither of these people. I’m more in the middle. Neither contributing in a big meaningful way nor struggling to adapt. I wish I had something “big” to contribute. I tend to be an encourager and have been trying to spread happiness every chance I get. I rise early to capture sunrise to share with whoever would accept it, hoping it sparks their day with a smile in their souls. I attempt to write uplifting pieces to warm hearts with words that may remind them of forgotten memories or suggestions to cheer up their days. One of my favorite pastimes is listening to music, and I’ve often shared a song that touched my heart, but I soon realized that my intentions might be good, but my taste differs from most people foiling my plan to spread the merriment around. Oh well, I tried. That’s all I can do.

Without trying, I discovered the most joyful way of spreading smiles around during my recent shopping trip. Did I tell you I love listening to music? Since I found Amazon Music, I can’t stop listening to my favorite playlist. Once I was able to Bluetooth to my car, I was in mobile heaven. Yesterday, I didn’t want to stop listening upon arriving at my destination. With my new cell phone battery, I no longer have to leave my music in the car. All I needed to do was switch off Bluetooth, and voilà my new best friend goes everywhere with me. 

Listening to my peppy favorites like “Feel Good,” “Everybody’s Got a Story,” and “Better in Time” pasted a smile not only on my face beneath my mask but within my soul as well. In a way, it was nice having the mask on so that I didn’t look like a smiling idiot. I didn’t expect that since I began wearing a mask for the first time, people smiled back. I could see them smiling through their eyes! The mask concealed my lips, but my smiling eyes were not. We made eye contact and gave each other a head nod in acknowledgment. Maybe this column should’ve been about music’s impact, but for me, smiling and music are synonymous. I was grooving to my music, killing the Trader Joes’ line wait time, when I noticed the undeniably huge smiling eyes directed at me from the bagger in the next aisle. I don’t usually see clerks smiling like that, but he probably doesn’t regularly see people grooving in a checkout line either. We shared a big smile and head nod, and that made me smile even more. So, let’s spread the smiles around, shall we? All you need to do is smile. It’s contagious!