I've never really had the urge to write a special post commemorating a federal holiday, but yesterday I did. It's probably because recently I've been thinking a lot about Martin Luther King. In fact, I've thought about him so much I couldn't fit all the things I wanted to say about him into one post. I've thought about him in a personal way; and I've thought about him for the work that consumed his life. His life long war against invisibility--not for himself, because he was likely to be seen no matter what--but for others.
But as I just proved, a day can turn into a yesterday so quickly that you never get a chance to write the things you want to write, or say the things you intend to say--or damn, even do the laundry.
It was a good day though--so good that when I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions, I decided to saunter around the mall a little. I was just going to go to one store, but before I knew it, I had walked through the entire marketplace.
I bought myself some new underwear in rainbow colors, and a pair of fake Uggs for twenty-five dollars. I ran into some people I knew and stopped to talk.
They seemed surprised to see me out walking around, but they were too polite to say so, and I was too polite to tell them to stop looking at me like a ghost. After a while, we all forgot how wondrous it was to be alive and walking around the mall shopping for underwear on a federal holiday, and just talked.
Then, as I used to do when going to the mall was not a noteworthy accomplishment, I stopped at B & N for a mocha latte. I got tired before I finished it, but it still tasted good.
At the front of the store was a whole table of books about longevity. Foods to eat. Exercises to do. Thoughts to think. I used to love books like that, and I don't doubt they're full of marvelous advice. But today I walked past them, feeling kind of wistful for my old self. The self that believed those books could somehow save me.
At the front of the store was a whole table of books about longevity. Foods to eat. Exercises to do. Thoughts to think. I used to love books like that, and I don't doubt they're full of marvelous advice. But today I walked past them, feeling kind of wistful for my old self. The self that believed those books could somehow save me.
The trouble is I ate the secret foods, did the work-outs, thought the thoughts, took the cleansing breaths, and I still got sick.
Maybe I put too much faith in those things before. Maybe I saw those books as talismans. Maybe I believed that if I just found the right one, I could live forever--or for a hundred years, which felt like forever when I first started reading about eating seeds and breathing deeply and living with gratitude.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still for healthy living and yoga and running for miles along the beach, and saying thank you whenever you get the chance. I just don't think of longevity as something I can buy at B & N anymore. Nor is it quite such a preoccupation.
Even though I have every longing--and these days, every hope--of writing more books and celebrating more anniversaries and seeing my grandchildren grow to be sturdy adults, I see things differently now.
Now, like MLK, I just want to do the work I have in me to do, and give whatever I have in me to give, however small and humble it might be.
More tomorrow...or is it today?
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Comments: 50
I am so glad you felt well enough to undertake the mall - me, I can't imagine voluntarily hanging out in one, but whatever... still a very good thing... as, of course, is having that hope you mention.
As for getting old -at 85, I'm there. I think reaching old age is partly genetics and luck, and a lot of it is how you eat and treat your body. But when you get to about 60, one other thing that is of prime importance is avoiding germy people - especially children and all the colds they catch at school. I live in a remote area and try to keep my trips to town to once a month. I don't go often to places where people congregate. In fact Gather provides almost all of my socializing. Those network viruses haven't laid me up so far. With all our modern means of communicating, I don't get lonely - much.
Frank Z: You pose an interesting question...
Ruth: You are a true inspiration!
Sarah, Lora, Becca, Lyla: Thank you all for your good wishes and comments.
Anne: What a lovely thing to say...I'll never be an MLK, but I try to do what I can in my small corner.
J.K.: I only wish I had inspired myself to do the same!
Ellen: You say it well. I'm keeping you in my thoughts, my friend.
Priscilla: He inspired us on so many levels.
Erica: "The maul"--I love that. But you're right--even THAT was fun after spending so much time on my couch.
I am so excited to see the life and words of MLK inspiring another generation. I have a nephew who is five, and he is enamored of MLK. He can sit for hours watching old films and documentaries. When his mother told him that MLK was also a preacher, his eyes lit up...because, at only five, he desires to be a preacher. His reasons? So he can help God's people. He is defenitely my heart, pride, and joy.
And your trip to the Mall and the longevity stuff. I once climber a mountain, 90 minutes up, 60 minutes down. Then I was overcome by a compulsion to eat a half pound hamburger. And I did. I'm not guilty and I'm still here.
It's great that you are up and about again and I'm looking forward to your postings.
Lyn: Recovering from two surgeries here...thanks for asking.
Chris/Jerry S: Thank you!
Ruthe M: Every year when I watch him give the speeches, I hear something new. Glad to hear your nephew is inspired to be like him. This world needs more true leaders.
Ronan: You make an essential point at the root of so much misery. We all need to connect greater than ourselves.
Great to hear of the walk in the mall, it's good for people to run into ghosts sometimes! (My husband actually had someone tell him how surprised they were to hear that I was still alive!)
BTW: The reason for writing this comment was to say, "You write a VERY good article!"
I never read those books that are at the front of all bookstores right now. I read enough on the internet not to pay for those. Longevity has to do with a lot of things - not just what you eat or drink but also on your environment, and your mindset.
RisaG
Norvona: That speech is so heartfelt and tranformative. It's hard not to be moved.
Christi: Thank you! It's good to be back.
Phyllis: We need more active dreamers like him now!
Risa G: You're right. A lot of factors go into health; genetics also play a huge role. Thanks for your comment.
You will no doubt achieve your goals as I said with your positive attitude toward life.
"You can live your life in one of two ways. One is as if nothing were a miracle. The other is as if everything is a miracle."
Think of how far you've come already! For me, each and every day is already a bonus.
glad you are learning and growing as an artist in the midst of all this. and Diana, I really like that comment.
When my father died of cancer in 1997, he was only 69. He had so much more to give to the world, plans galore for books to write, gardens to plant. I became really angry at life/God when he got sick, because he, too, did all the right things. He planted a gigantic garden to feed us. All organic, of course. Everything from apples and pears to rutabegas to collards to currents. He planted it all. He rode his bike every day for exercise and got plenty of sleep. He had a glass of wine every day. Red. 'Cause that's what they told us at the time would help prolong one's life. He opened his arms wide and welcomed life, followed his passions, surrounded himself with positive, wonderful people. Yet the illness still claimed him in the same year his own mother died.
I can see how you'd feel cheated after living such a healthy life and listening to the advice. And you know, even though I saw what happened to my father, I still feel this little niggling compulsion to eat healthier, walk more, do everything right. Even though I know it's more borne of fear than logic. Crazy, isn't it?
Anyway, I am so thankful that you got to go out and treat yourself the other day. Kudos! Please know my prayers are with you wherever you are. All my best - A.
Bert: Yours is the kind of comment that leaves me smiling for weeks. Thank you.
Louis: My grandfather lived to be 99. He used to call anyone under 90 "a kid." It sounds like you have a similar, joyful spirit!
Diana: I love that quote from Einstein. And you are so right: every day IS a bonus, whether you've ever been seriously ill or not.
Kerry: I haven't heard of it, but now I'm intrigued...Sounds like my kind of song.
Aaron: Yes, it's wonderful to connect. Thanks for sharing a little bit about your dad's life. Gardening? Writing? A positive loving spirit? It sounds as if his son takes after him quite a bit. And you know, he might have felt cheated, but if he had lived, he probably would have
done everything the same. I know I will. When you come right down to it, riding your bike, eating and vegetables, drinking a little wine, and embracing the world is not only healthy; it's a great way to live!
Mary M: When you've been in the hospital for a while, extraordinary, ordinary days are the abolute BEST! I hope yours are all filled with uncommon, common miracles.
I wanted you to know that I had asked for "Liar's Diary" at our Borders store, and within two weeks, there were three copies on the shelf. Well, let's just say there are two copies now...I absolutely loved your book!
Thank you for sharing your heart with us.
Enjoy those uggs and pamper yourself dear lady. Every day is a gift.
In the long run, we need to do what we can do, that which we are able and that which we feel compelled to pursue. For one knows neither the day nor the hour.
I'm glad that you got a chance to get out and relax a bit. I hope your recovery continues to progress. I'll keep you in my prayers.