Beware the Pit of Pride!

Last week, I fell headlong into the Pit of Pride.   

After posting a positioning statement – I’m an elder care ancharist, overthrowing the norm, expanding possibilities.  – on Facebook & asking for input, I balked when friends wondered if “anarchist” might be taken as…  scary.   

No, no, was my horrified response – that word always gets a good response.  Innovator seemed so much... tamer. 

Flog me for forgetting the first rule Pete Boericke taught me as a fledgling public relations wordsmith – resist pride of authorship. 

Last week was a mighty fail on that part.  Time to realize my goof, pledge to accept as well as seek other opinions, and follow up on suggestions. 

UP NEXT:  Will road test both names, alternating handing out my current business card – with elder care anarchist – with a second substituting innovator for the potentially scary word.  Then, gauge responses. 

And not only ask for input on potential wording, 

but stay open to better possibilities, too! 

Perfectly good

 

Voltaire could have been talking about marriage when he said, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.”  Blessings on Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project, for introducing me to those wise words.  Words to live by. Especially this past weekend.

John & I have a good, sturdy marriage, one that's a far cry from perfect.  John is there for me so many times, in so many ways.  Just not this past Saturday & Sunday.  My heart was broken, my spirit ripped apart by multiple reminders of things that are essential to my sense of self & safety that don't even register on his radar.  Not even the teeny tiniest blip.  Arrrggggghhhhhh!

Had a mini meltdown at Be Well, sadness & despair tinging every word of lament.  A black cloud of depression hung over me all Saturday.  The icy grip of weather that seized our area Sunday reflected the icy grip grief held on my heart.  

Then, in the depth of my storm & stress, a burble of light bubbled up through my brain.  Voltaire, whispering in my ear - Are you letting the perfect overwhelm the good?  Is John a good husband?  Is he as good a husband as you are a wife?   

 

Yes!  John is a good husband.  Is he perfect?  No how, no way.  Sheez, I’m light years from being the perfect wife.   

Back to Gretchen, who reminded me that "Instead of pushing yourself to an impossible 'perfect,' and therefore getting nowhere, accept 'good.'  Many things worth doing are worth doing badly."

John & I ace some aspects of marriage.  Others…  not so much.  Not even close.  Even though we don't do them well, they are still well worth our time to do. 

Weird, being married for so many years yet still hitting soul-rattling bumps in the road.  How I treat each is up to me - take it as a cautionary speed bump or an axle-damaging obstacle?   Do I go berserk because our relationship isn’t perfect or acknowledge there are flaws & keep moving forward?  

Strange but true - Gretchen's most recent posting addressed this very situation.  Yesterday's posting opened with a quote from Bob Mankoff, one of my favorite NewYorker cartoonists -  “Humor is the antidote to overthinking. It’s a way of saying that life is paradoxical. Humor contains contradictions; it does not resolve them but revels in them. It says that the right way to exist among the contradictions, paradoxes, and absurdities of life is to cope with them through laughter.”

 

Mankoff beats even Voltaire at being spot on.  Marriage is paradoxical!  Marriage is front & back-loaded with contradictions.  We are not meant to resolve them, but revel in them.  The best way to handle the contradictions, paradoxes & absurdities of marriage is through a light heart, a light hand, and a lot of laughter. 

Gretchen, you give me goose bumps!  Have been struggling to unlock the words to describe the past two days & you hand over the key.  Thanks! 

The whole idea of marriage working out smoothly, without major bumps pot holes detours is absurd.  Team up a guy & a gal & expect them to think & will, each as the other?  A lovely thought, but there’s an eternity of work getting even close. 

I do not now nor ever will think like John.  And vice versa.  But we can join forces, bulk up each others strengths as we lessen each others weaknesses.  We can want what is best for the other & accept that we might not be the one to provide it.  Not even if we deeply dearly desperately want to be The One.  And that's okay,  That's the way it's meant to be.  Just keep those seat belts buckled, enjoy the scenery while keeping an eye on the road, and remember to not take any detours too seriously.  

 

JACOB KRAMER - blues chaser, making a difference

One of the things that got my mother through the bleak winter months (can get pretty dreary here in southeast Pennsylvania) were the letters she got from family & friends - especially her nieces Peggy & Linda and nephew Bob, all top notch letter writers! Imaging the smiles on their faces getting an envelope addressed in her hand writing - Mom was a wonderfully  engaging correspondent.

Have always loved the word correspondence. Definition - communication by exchanging letters with someone.  Communication.  One of the BEST words in any language, at least to me.   

Letters can brave the iciest steps, the most blustery winds.  And rainy days are ideal for sitting down with a cuppa & dashing off a few notes to tuck into the mail box.  Hand-written ones are the greatest treasures - to me, just seeing someone's "fist" is very special.

Mom wrote letters to her near & dear, letters to the editor, notes of appreciation to the past Sunday's minister for an interesting sermon and/or a thank you to the choir or organist for a particularly beautiful piece of music.  (As much as she loved audio tapes of the service - today, she'd watch livestream AND get the audio to replay - Mom valued the print version best, which she could write on & reread at will). 

It's possible that a love of receiving mail just might be hardwired into the human psyche.  The core hub of my small home town is our local post office.  People seem predisposed to smiles there, picking up their mail.  I am sad for all the communities that get only home delivery, don't have their own sacred little box. 

When I married John, I took a new last name, a new address, a new phone number, but there was no way I was giving up my always & forever post office box!  To this day, I dutifully go down every March & plunk down my box rent.  

One of my grannie clients prefers walking all the way from her apartment at the back of her senior residence to the quite far away front door just so she can check out if she has mail.  Every day, every time she makes the long walk (instead of being picked up at the back), the hope is always there - maybe there will be something in my box.  Alas, there is rarely an actual letter or note, but, as I remind her, she doesn't write any herself.  Hmmmm.....   This is a great time for her start sending off fun cards to her sister in Florida, her sons in Massachusetts & North Carolina!  

This posting about the power of letter writing is about to veer in what was, when I started, a totally unexpected direction.  When I wrote the opening line, I had not heard the name, JACOB CRAMER.  Have spent the last couple hours learning all about this unusual young man, being impressed & inspired.  Am not really digressing from the topic of this morning's posting when I introduce him to you.

I discovered Jacob this morning when I googled "letters and the elderly."  He was all over the place!  As well he should be.

It turns out that Jacob Cramer is a very young man with a very big mission.  Between November 2013 and mid-February 2014, this then 8th grader (!) was responsible for over 450 handwritten letters being delivered to seniors at assisted living centers & hospitals throughout metropolitan Cleveland, Ohio.  

Jacob - my butt has been kicked!  As of this moment, thanks to a young man whose name I'd never seen until this morning, am starting a similar program for my church, reaching out to the people who have - individually & collectively - been priceless role models & mentors in my life, in our lives!  

I know, from personal experience opening up my post office box or the mail box here at Squirrel Haven, what a difference spotting a letter makes, the automatic smile it brings to my face!  So little effort, just a huge result.

 

Here's how it works with Jacob's organization,  Love for the Elderly - night aids at the centers or hospitals placed a single, unsigned letter on each senior's bedside table.  When they woke up, there it was, waiting for them to open & read or have read to them!  

Important point - each letter is signed ANONYMOUS.  There is no pressure for the recipient to respond, because they can't.  Just enjoy the letter, which I'm sure many treasure as among their greatest possessions.  Imagine the stories they can make up in their minds about the sender!

Imagining what it would be like if every resident in my own home town's senior residence received a letter in their mail box.  Oh, the people buzzing, asking their friends & neighbors if they'd gotten one, sharing them.  Big smile on my face, just thinking about it! 

Young Master Cramer's idea was so successful, he reached out past his original recruits (his 8th grade classmates) & launched a Web site, developed a Facebook page, and even rolled out a social media campaign to rally total strangers to the glorious cause!  Jacob Cramer - rock star!

How did such a kid come up with such an awesome idea?  Personal experience.  He was sad when his beloved grandfather died.  Brokenhearted realizing the his grandpa was all alone, without family around him.  Jacob & his family were regular visitors, but his grandpa was more often all by himself.  When he passed, his grandson took it as a personal mission to honor his elder by doing what he could to help oldsters feel less lonely.  Would that we all responded to sorrow & loss with such loving energies!

 

Letter-writing was a perfect fit for Jacob, who participates in a competitive writing program with other Ohio middle school students.  He knew that letters were personal, involved thought & effort, embody human interaction and mean a lot to the person receiving it, holding it in their hands.  Visits are invaluable, but letters can be cherished & treasured over & over & over.  

It is to weep that one so young understands so well what it is like for too many elderly Americans.  In an interview he gave with the Web site, Caregiversforhome,
Jacob explained, "So many elderly citizens in our nation have no one to care for them, no one to look after them and no one to love them. We are here to change that. We’re ... dedicated to providing happiness to the elderly."  It is a great interview - I urge you to check out the link.

 
Imagine that you are one of the letter writers (they include all ages).  You write one or more letters to send off to Jacob for distributing via Love for the Elderly.  What's the next natural thought?  "Now that I've written these, I should write one to Grandma or Aunt Betty or Cousin Angie, to my friend who lives in Colorado or my niece in Australia, to this person who just broke a leg or that one who just lost his Dad."  And so the love grows, becomes more personal, even more powerful.

My thanks to Jacob Cramer, one incredible blues chaser!  Will begin TODAY my own practice of writing letters for Love for the Elderly.  Will honor Jacob - and his grandfather & my own letter-writing mama - by starting a similar project for the elderly & shut-ins within my church & community.  

Little did I know, waking up this morning, that my life would be changed by what I thought was just a simple google search.  Ain't life grand! 

 

originally posted on 01/10/15 at older2elder