Giving Up the Little Things

It’s like a plague (okay, a bit exaggerated, perhaps) that accompanies old age. A creeping, always justified excuse for slowing down and doing less. A self-congratulatory attitude that says: “I’ve paid my dues and now I’m owed some quiet time.” The self-assured argument that you no longer have to do all those meaningless tasks you were assigned early on in life and have been dutifully fulfilling ever since.

Now, you get to choose what you want to do, feel like doing, and damn it, are going to do or not do. And if you don’t want to do________ (fill in the blank here) then you don’t have to. You’ve earned your right to rest. At least, that’s the mindset that often comes creeping into that tired old brain of yours (or should I say, ours.)

The trouble with this self-fulfilling prophesy is that behind the aforementioned righteous rational lies a fatal flaw that can slowly but most assuredly rob you of the blessings of life. The truth is that it’s the little things that mean a lot, especially later on in life. To eliminate them is only to quicken the pace of an early demise or, at the very least, heighten needless anxiety about ‘the little things.’

I’ve seen it happen over and over again; with my parent’s, other friend’s parents and now (under the glow of my twilight years) some folks around me. It’s never seen as giving up. But rather, an embracing of doing less and not replacing that vacuum with something else worthwhile. Cutting back and emptying that repository of memories and not replacing it with anything new.

So, slowly but surely, the exercising slows down and finally stops. Travel becomes too clogged with uncertainty, driving at night is uncomfortable and our ‘own bed’ takes on a new importance. Our old familiar workplace has changed so much we don’t recognize it from when we first started in the business. Politics remains the same and we stop listening to the facts presented and only focus on the style of dress and how ‘believable’ our favorite candidate seems. If we still care at all.

All those morsels in our lives that made it a comfortable pattern of behavior are gradually lost or let go. Now we have more and more of less and less in our lives. The problem with this new scenario is that the vacuum never remains empty. Instead, it is filled with doubt and confusion and uncertainty of the new, ever evolving world all around us.

I can pin-point almost to the year when my friend’s parents stop living in the present. Their eldest was going off to college in the big city and they knew in their heart of hearts that their future was not going to be a repeat of their past.

It was going to be a different world (as seen through their children’s eyes) and they consciously or subconsciously decided to remain in ‘their’ own little world which is what they did. Gradually as the world changed around them, it became harder and harder for them to recognize the old from the new. Their world was becoming less and less like that of their kids. They found it harder and harder to relate to their children’s cares and concerns. The little, inconsequential things, took on new meaning and importance. Their kids urged them to ‘get out of the house’ and into the real world but they refused.

They’d become captives within their own self-made capsule of existence. Unfortunately, along with this isolation came confusion and concern about the myriads of changes all around them. Nothing seemed like it had been before. They felt lost and confused and thus clung to the old familiar at the expense of the new and present.

It’s a trap that’s easy to fall into without a conscious effort to stay informed, updated and involved with ‘skin in the game.’ Not an easy task but one that is critical to living a fulfilling life.

As mentioned so often before, at this stage of the game, ‘health is wealth.’ The secret sauce of staying alive and conscious to the world around us is to stay active in mind and body alike. The options and opportunities are endless and each one of them paves the way for a more satisfying and fulfilling life.

We only get one chance at this journey through life, why not live it to the fullest and take a break afterwards in eternity.

Old Idea New Again

When it was written back in 2002, it caused quite a stir in the book world. Much like “Passages” written by Gayle Sheehy, “The Rise of the Creative Class” seemed to usher in a new insight into our working-class world. It was a new category of worker, their lifestyle, associated urban planning, and the future of the workplace.

Now, with the miles traveled in our rearview mirror, we can look back on the pronouncements, predictions, and analysis that Richard Florida gave us and see what he got right and what missteps he might have taken. Even before the disruptions of the pandemic, there definitely was a trend toward a more creative approach in the workforce. During the pandemic, with working at home becoming the norm, this new style of workforce endeavors had become solidified in America and abroad.

Overall, Mr. Florida got it right. Over the years, the creative class has been defined, redefined, analyzed and pronounced still-born. Yet, it’s still with us in one form or another. The COVID 19 pandemic did much to prove the validity of working from home, despite its many flaws, and the growth of creative endeavors that came out of it.

The author of this latest book I’ve read on creativity has an interesting perspective on the subject. He says: “Academics have tried to measure the links between intelligence and genius. But intelligence is not enough. After a considerable debate in the sixties, psychologists have reached the conclusion that creativity is not the same as intelligence. An individual can be far more creative than he or she is intelligent, or far more intelligent than creative.”

The bottom line is that creativity, in one form or another, is still a life force to be reckoned with for so many people. Young people have wisely embraced this new mantra of work much to the concern of some older more established high priests of business, commerce and politics. But creativity isn’t just reserved for the younger worker, it can be everywhere.

Creativity in our everyday life can be all around us. We just have to open our eyes to the possibilities. It can be in the arts, in seemingly mundane activities as well as productive enterprises of every form, function, and scope.

I have found it in my writing. Sharon has captured it in her art. Many of our friends have embraced activities such as woodworking, acting in plays and movies and a host of other creative endeavors.

Simple things too like creative cooking and gardening are also good examples. ‘Earthing,’ also known as grounding, involves direct skin contact with the Earth, such as walking barefoot. It’s one approach to adopting chemical-free, eco-friendly practices in maintaining soil health, biodiversity and eliminating toxin exposure to people and pets. Eating well is no different; same concept, different receptacle.

Over the years, I’ve explored different creative approaches to life including an exploration of the mind. Mindfulness, meditation, yoga and other forms of mental relaxation have helped me juice up the creative process inside my head. It didn’t hurt to relax the body at the same time.

Ultimately what we are talking about is living our lives creatively, grasping all the wonderful opportunities around us and building a more fulfilling lifestyle in which to grow as a person. It’s being true to ourselves, our wants and wishes; our own version of True North. True North is a standard against which all courses are measured. It is the best way for us to live and be honest with ourselves and to do it creatively.

The Styx and the Dawg

Whether you choose to believe or not, the Styx and the Dawg make for fascinating reading.

While I haven’t read a lot of mystical readings about passing over to the other side, I have come across phrases that have (for whatever reason) latched on to my consciousness. As a writer, I try to be attuned to phrases that capture a moment in time, a particular scene or an emotion. They all add to the vernacular toolbox I use every day to paint picture stories in the minds of my readers. ‘Crossing the Styx’ is one such phrase. But it wasn’t the first to grab my attention.

While doing research for one of my seven novels still in limbo (outline form), I researched phrases that spoke so eloquently of that period in the Deep South. The (as yet not written) novel is called: ‘Georgia Howl.’ It’s the story of a group of disbanded Confederate soldiers making their way back home to Georgia at the end of the Civil War.

‘Fit As a Fiddle,’ ‘Grab A Root,’ Hard Case,’ and ‘Jailbird’ are all part of their nomenclature that captures that time and place in history. Another one of those phrases that so eloquently captures the language of the time and place is steeped deeply in railroad lore.

‘Goin ‘where the Southern cross’ the Dog’ was another one of those first such phrases. The phrase refers to a railroad crossing in the Deep South well known to locals and outlaws alike. A great description of this phrase comes from Greg Johnson of the University of Mississippi. This southern state has a rich and fascinating treasure lore of blues history and background.

Mr. Johnson explains ““Many early blues singers used variations on the phrase “going where the Southern cross the Dog.” The expression refers to the place in Moorhead, Mississippi, where the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley rail line intersected with the Southern rail line. Many southerners referred to the Yazoo and Mississippi line as the “Yellow Dog” or simply the “Dog” or “Dawg.” The first historical reference to blues lyrics mentions this phrase: when W. C. Handy wrote about first hearing the blues in 1903 at a train station in Tutwiler, he described a man playing guitar and repeating the phrase “Goin’ where the Southern cross’ the Dog.” Handy later popularized the phrase in his “Yellow Dog Blues” (1914). Charley Patton sang the phrase in “Green River Blues” (1929), and Kokomo Arnold used it in “Long and Tall” (1937).

Folk music is the perfect conduit for painting these mental pictures through the vernacular. Down through the ages, based on some semblance of reality, words and phrases from folk songs have given us ‘Old Hannah,’ the Southern convicts name for the punishing sun. ‘Delia,’ the name given to a bad woman, a ‘rounder’ or a ‘gambler.’ Like ‘John Hardy’ she was based on real life characters who gained immortality through song. Old railroad songs seem to be some of the most prolific image-makers.

Now another phrase stumbled across my consciousness comes from far across the sea.

‘Crossing the Styx’ has been formulated in many different configurations like ‘The River Styx’ and ‘Journey Across the Styx.’ They all mean the same thing. The Styx, which was also a female deity, formed the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead according to the philosopher Hades. When someone died, the psyche (spirit) of the deceased had to cross the river Styx, carried on a boat by the ferryman Charon, in order to enter the afterlife.

The concept of this ‘other side’ has long since fascinated me. The Vikings had their Valhalla or Viking heaven. Religions down through the ages have talk about, preached about, and warned about life after death; making it sound like the final tabulation.

Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and other similar religions have their own take on this concept.

That hasn’t stopped a lot of people, including myself, from trying to explore, examine and under-stand what isn’t easily understood. It’s a journey inside one’s head without guideposts, guide-lines or borders. There’s an easy way to stretch your imaginary muscles. Henry Miller, philosopher, poet, writer and a main character in my latest suspense mystery novel ‘Playground for the Devil’ said it best:

“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”

When Brian and Melanie were older, I tried to do this. We would go hiking into the woods nearby and at a certain point; I’d have them sit on a log or the ground and ‘just listen.’ I made them sit quietly and listen to the sounds all around them; the birds, wind rustling leaves in the trees, distant traffic, etc. I wanted them to retreat back into their head and let their eyes see what hadn’t been seen before.

Then I would ask them what they heard and what they saw. We would talk about the visible foliage and the invisible animals around us. I wanted to them see beyond the trail we were following and embrace their surroundings. It was hard for them at first but gradually as they settled down, their senses became more attuned to their surroundings; sights and sounds and smells and atmosphere. I’d like to believe that these experiences are one reason both my kids and all my grandchildren are very active outdoors and have a great respect for their surroundings.

Try it sometime. It’s a fascinating and deeply satisfying experience.

Look beyond your eyes to where your vision melds into your memory and imagination. Let your thoughts roam free and see where they take you. Perhaps into another world, another realm just over the limits of your consciousness.