THE POWER OF SMALL THINGS

THE POWER OF SMALL THINGS

Black Lives Matter! A Pandemic is Serious! What Happened to Compromise?  Should schools open?  Why is the CDC being cut out of the Covid-19 reporting loop?  Why is wearing a mask an issue of freedom? Russians are not on our side.  Is my country, the country of my birth, the country that I love, declining like the Roman Empire?  All of these thoughts have been rampaging through my mind recently. I don’t know any of the answers, nor do I have any control, except with my vote, which may not be counted this year..

So, I am going back to the simple pleasures that have been so important to the quality of my life.  I am starting this better path simply by identifying and expressing gratitude for something small.  After all, most everything started out small, so why not focus on simple, small things.  I thought about those things that made me smile yesterday, in the last few minutes. There are lots of small things that can make your day.  

Here are some of mine:

  • getting lost in a novel
  • my old blue sneakers
  • I enjoy biographies, who would have thought!
  • my meditation that connects me to the day
  • my favorite coffee cups
  • taking a walk
  • dinners with family
  • a really good hug
  • watching a bird going about its business and paying me no mind
  • reading in the shade of a large oak tree
  • sitting on my balcony in the sun reading a good book on my kindle
  • petting my cat, Charlie
  • looking at my garden
  • morning coffee
  • large glass of water and time with God
  • perusing through my favorite bookstore
  • walk in the woods
  • Linda’s smile

Experiencing any one of these small things can make my day joyful.  I get lost in a good book a lot but I do not spend enough time reflecting on why the book held my attention.  Reflecting on the joy of the book can bring a smile to my face all day. I encourage you to make your own list of small things that make you smile and feel good about yourself.

For years, I thought that having the desire to be the best-of-the best at my job would bring me happiness. But I eventually learned and have been reminded many times that this simply is not the case. I do believe, however, that many folks have that desire because doing your best is not good enough. Indeed, if you have that burning desire to achieve and accomplish important things, then please take along a list of small things to make your way more enjoyable.  Develop this as a habit, and you will be amazed at its power and impact. Through the power of small things — adding new things regularly, they will build upon one another and over time have an extraordinary impact on your performance and serenity.

LIGHTNING ROCKS

Lightning is my granddaughter Emma’s dog, but he truly loves me.  Every time I go to Sarah and Keith’s house, I sit on the leather sofa because it is central, comfortable and I can protect myself as Lightning sprints through the door and takes a giant leap into my lap.  He proceeds to give me sloppy, wet kisses all over my face. And his tail is wagging so fast that it is a blur. He barks incessantly with his shrill tenor voice.  Sometimes he greets me with a little urine drip if he hasn’t been outside lately.  I don’t mind because I love this dog.

Lightning is a dachshund with a very large personality.  He is the larger dog in the picture above. The little fellow looking on is Mr. Jingles, Lightning’s running mate.  He is not as exuberant as Lightning and often seeks a safe haven in Sarah’s lap.  He’s not very fond of men in general.

If you notice in the picture, Lightning has what appears to be a rock in his mouth. It is a rock.  Every time Hattie goes to the trampoline, Lightning tags along.  The very first thing he does on arrival is to look for a mouth size rock.  He digs vigorously around the edges of the rock and uses his paws to dig it out of its resting place.  He then makes sure it is the correct size.  His rock is never just any rock–it has to be just right.

When satisfied, he throws the rock into the air and pounces on it.  He hits the rock with his nose, it rolls a few feet and he pounces on it again.  He then hits the rock with his right paw, then his left and dribbles the rock for 6 feet or so like a soccer player.  As Sarah and I sat watching Hattie do gymnastics on the trampoline, Lightning continued with his rock antics in the same order (mouth, nose, paws) for forty minutes.  AMAZING.  I have had lots of dogs, but never one that plays with rocks.  By the way, he brings his favorites into the house and keeps them in the playroom.

Dogs are wonderful participants in this life.

PERDUE HOLLOW REVISITED!

I have this cousin named Mary.  She came into my life when I was four or five and she remained there for eleven years or so.  Then my favorite Aunt Edith married Walt and Mary disappeared into Walt’s family.  She was no longer a part of my life and I missed her.  She was the sibling I never had and she got a brother and sister in the new arrangement. When there were opportunities to see her at my grandmother’s house, I stayed away because I didn’t want the pain of missing her all over again. I was seventeen and didn’t know what I was losing.

The year 2017 has brought a massive change and Mary has come back into my life with a bang. She is on a mission of reuniting those of us that have been lost and I am grateful to her.  She has been to my place in Roanoke, I have been to visit her and her husband Steve in Louisville, and recently we had lunch with our cousin John and his wife Kay at the Valley Country Restaurant in Green Valley, West Virginia.  After lunch, we drove to Brush Fork, West Virginia to our grandparents’ homestead in Perdue Hollow.  Our cousin Don owns the place today and he has done a terrific job refurbishing the house.

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As a youngster,  my bedroom was in the left back corner on the second floor of the house.  Mary slept in the front room across the hall from Weaver and Dora, our grandparents.  For the longest time, this house was about a mile off the Perdue Hollow Road.  It was also the home of our great-grandparents Will and Mary Perdue.  We were all part of the long line of Perdue’s that inhabited this large Valley or “Holler” as we preferred.  Then they built the airport road right through the middle of the farm.  It’s still a two-lane road–the airport is not very busy. I never liked that road.

Donnie, Mike(me) and Johnny new every inch of the mountains and plateaus around the place. Plus we knew a lot about the Whitt Hollow which was on the other side of our mountains.  This “Holler” was mysterious and a little scary, but we were brave lads looking for adventure.  Soon enough we had Mary tagging after us to the Whitt Hollow.  The memories of this wondrous place are much grander than the actual events in the fifties. But, I cherish every moment I was there.

Mary, John and I were waiting for Don in the drive where the old gate used to stand,  looking up the valley.  It all looked closer together–the big hill with the road to the plateau was somehow closer than it seemed in 1950 or even 1957.  I haven’t seen the place for 39 years and haven’t seen my cousin Don or his new wife, Connie, in that time.  I was upset by the way Don had manipulated my Grandmother to let him have the property.  She was a difficult person to deal with most of the time (actually she had a mean streak), so he probably deserved it for his efforts to help her.  I am not upset anymore.

Don finally arrived.  Connie was in the house and he took me in to meet her.  She was not feeling well but was very lovely and nice.  The house was beautiful on the inside and Don showed me a picture of Will, Mary and their ten children, including Dora Belle.  My grandmom hated the name Belle.  I knew all the children in that picture–my aunts, and uncles.

The fourValley Country of us stood in the yard and talked about old times.  It hit me like a punch in the stomach.  I love Mary.  I love Don. I love John.  I love Steve, Connie, and Kay.  Standing in that place we were one and always will be.