“I’m willing to let life happen and then take away the shiny pieces.” This is a quote I remember from somewhere. I remember when I heard it, I thought that’s a philosophy for us all. One we need to pocket and use daily. Life is a powerful force. It moves forward whether we want it to or not, often with speeds and detours we would rather it not take.

One thing I’ve noticed about life, after experiencing it for seventy-three years, is that it doesn’t have to be a burden. It seems to run its course much slower when one doesn’t find joy in it.  I remember years ago when I was still working at building a career, I was one of those dedicated workers who lived for the weekend and dreaded Monday mornings. I didn’t start to realize that my work was a blessing, not a curse, until I was in my forties. It was then that I began to realize how my career was a way for me to develop in more ways than just learning more about the tools of my trade. It provided me opportunities to learn more about people, how they think and work together. Working in human resources, I found myself in counseling positions often. One of the counseling scenarios I regularly delt with was employees who would come to me complaining about their job. Invariably they would say things like, “I like my job, but I don’t like the people.” What an interesting statement, since people are part and parcel of the job. If you take them away from the equation, how can one do the job. Obviously, an employee who thinks that way doesn’t understand the importance of looking for the shiny pieces.

The shiny pieces are those moments when you realize you’ve learned something new; when someone tells you’ve been helpful in some way; when a dumb decision didn’t result in the bad consequences that it might have; when you look into the eyes of a newborn child with which you’ve been blessed. Life is replete with shinny pieces. They far outweigh what at times seems to be the overwhelming number of dark clouds that follow you.

When you find yourself going through a period of stormy weather, and you’re without an umbrella to keep from getting soaked, look for the shiny pieces. They’re not that hard to find. Their glow radiates brightly rain or shine, but you must be aware that they are always there. I think too many of us haven’t trained ourselves to recognize them.

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.

I just finished watching a TED talk daily that primed my thinking about a time long ago. The talk was given by Josephine Philips, and it was titled The Simple Solution to Fast Fashion. She began by telling the audience about a yellow dress her ninety-year-old grandmother bought when she was in her twenties. From the picture shown on the screen, the dress was quite fashionable for the times. The amazing thing is that it was still in good shape some sixty years later, when she gave it to Josephine.

The primary focus of the TED Talk was to present the merits of caring for the clothing we purchase, even to the point of repairing them rather than throwing them away at a whim. Josephine talked about how most of us are prone to discard a garment when it has a small tare, buy another, and repeat this cycle without giving a thought to what impact that habit has on our environment. One of the staggering points she made was the environmental impact textile waste has on developing countries.  This point hit home with me, because I’m aware of how shipments of second-hand clothing has impacted both the environment and the economy of Ghana West, Africa. A large portion of these shipments end up in landfills, since all are not suitable for wear. Furthermore, because they provide clothing at a cheaper price than locally manufactured clothing, there has been a reduction of employment in the Ghanian textile industry.

As I watched Philip’s TED talk more, I harkened back to a time when I was a child. My grandfather had a pin-striped, double-breasted suit he bought when he was in his twenties.  I was born in nineteen fifty. This suit was thirty-something years old when I was ten. Of course, it was made of natural fibers, and it looked good as when he first purchased it. My grandfather took good care of this suit. It was the only suit he had. He wore it on special occasions. You had to know my grandpa. There weren’t very many special occasions for him. Whenever he did wear it, he looked sharp. He reminded me of the roaring twenties and the machine carrying gangsters of the time of Elliott Ness. He also had a 1920’s style hat that he wore with it. Grandpa might have been a subsistence farmer, who scraped the dirt to feed his family; however, when he put on that suit, he looked like a million bucks.

I don’t remember what happened to grandpa’s suit, but he was way ahead of Josephine Philips when it came to caring for and holding onto a fine piece of clothing. I think going through the great depression taught him the importance of preserving rather than unconsciously discarding.

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.

I often look at my grandchildren, while they’re rollicking about in our house, behaving as children do. They play as if they don’t have a care in the world. Sometimes they take a break from their unmitigated joy and approach me with a question that would require a philosophical response had it been asked by an adult. Being the children they are, I struggle to give a response that their yet developed brains can comprehend. After they’ve rearranged everything in the house, with the dog’s help, my son takes them home, leaving Chris and I with the task of putting stuff back in their assigned location.

I oftentimes find myself getting quite disturbed at how these little blessings don’t understand how their play creates work for us. For example, when they go into what we call the kid’s room (a room in our house where all the grandkids can play with toys and have fun without disturbing us), it never looks like it did before they entered. When we ask them to clean it up, after they’ve finished making a mess, they cannot see the difference before and after. Their idea of straightening up often leaves things just as bad or worse than before they went into the room. But that’s what being a kid is all about. At some point, after you’ve given them instructions for tidying up, they’ll get it.

Usually after one of these visits, Chris and I sit around and talk about how much we enjoyed the time with these little destructive forces. The cleaning up afterwards seems small in comparison to the joy we’ve experienced. That joy is interrupted by thoughts I have about the future these precious ones will inherit. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the changes that are occurring on our planet. Global warming is a reality; the powers-that-be don’t seem to be willing to address. Along with global warming, war has become an international pass time, consuming financial and most importantly human resources. I’ve always wondered what sense it makes to bomb the hell out of a country, leaving things in shambles. When the whole thing is over, one side thinks that it’s won. After all the losses are calculated, I don’t see how there’s anything but losers on both sides. The way wars are conducted these days with other countries, besides the two primary combatants involved, too, resources are wasted from several corners of the world. For example, the United States is spending tens of millions supporting Ukraine in efforts to defend itself from Russia. This gets us nowhere closer to providing national health insurance for our own.

Our world leaders are driven by love of power and money. If you listen closely, you might hear fiddles playing from every corner of the planet. No one wants to step out front and do what needs to be done to protect the future for my grandchildren. Meantime, I’ll continue to allow my grandkids to make a mess in the kids’ room, and hope that someone will have sense at some point do something to preserve tomorrow for my grandkids.

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.