“But I had a good uncle, my late Uncle Alex. He was my father’s kid brother, a childless graduate of Harvard who was an honest life-insurance salesman in Indianapolis. He was well- read and wise. And his principal complaint about other human beings was that they so seldom noticed it when they were happy. So when we were drinking lemonade under an apple tree in the summer, say, and talking lazily about this and that, almost buzzing like honeybees, Uncle Alex would suddenly interrupt the agreeable blather to exclaim, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
SO I do the same now, and so do my kids and grandkids. And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, “if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
-Kurt Vonnegut “A man without a country” p. 132
Each week – I wait until I get that feeling to write and somehow the thoughts for the week come together to form a post.
This week – I was thinking about the above quote – and , some of the beautiful days I’ve had lately- and, how grateful I am to be able to see them as such. I remember how I used to be – the ceaseless inward chatter and the perpetual want to be elsewhere.
I recently finished a novel entitled “The Goldfinch “ which-I thoroughly enjoyed reading. I wish I were able to look upon my own life with such detachment – as if reading a novel- to be a participant brimming with equanimity.
The main character in the book makes certain decisions that are- by general consensus – deemed bad ones-yet , some of these carry him through to some sort of redemption in the end.
And-like myself- there was a string of years of which I exclusively made poor decisions. I would fret and needlessly worry – think of myself as doomed -as an early twenty something is prone to do – yet, in the end – it worked out. Those tumultuous years coaxed some of my more positive traits to emerge where-I can now appreciate moments – and -acknowledge beautiful days.
Last week my husbands grandmother fell and broke her hip and was taken to a rehabilitation center for older folks. A place where she had previously worked at for over 30 years.
The continuous thread here is what… like in the book I just finished where the author takes us through the many turns a life can take -I see how we each are carried through life with so many unexpected twists and turns.
And- If we try to hold on to anything tangible -we come up empty handed. What is there then? …
I see grandma B contributed service – of sorts – and now being allowed a refuge – again, of sorts. Those fleeting moments of acknowledgment- oh hey , isn’t this nice and whether we choose to fret or not – things will inevitably end up some place we- likely, least expect.
