Lighten Up Already!

GAIL: Two months ago, you thought you had a malignant melanoma.

MICKEY: Naturally! The sudden appearance of a black spot on my back!

GAIL:  It was on your shirt!

Julie Kavner and Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters

I have a lot of grown-up things on my to do list right now. I have to figure out how people file taxes here in purgatory (the state between married and divorced). I have to actually get divorced. -- Do we use a mediator or lawyers? Are we getting along well enough to try a collaborative divorce (whatever that is)? -- And I have to step up my job search so that I can inch my way a tiny bit closer to the middle class I pretend to be a part of. All this while managing my current three jobs and two kids. Like I said, this is grown-up stuff. So, my question is, WHERE THE HELL ARE THE GROWN-UPS?! I mean, HELLO??  I keep waiting for them to come home and take over, but it seems they've left me in charge.

A couple of days ago I was feeling really weighed down by all of this big-girl stuff, weighed down and inadequate. Am I really cut out for adulthood? At 51, you'd think I might have figured this out by now, but here we are. It was a gorgeous day. Between jobs I took my dog, Zeke, for a walk on the beach. If a sunny walk on the beach won't snap me out of a funk, what will? Zeke was running around greeting every person we met, wagging like a maniac, dashing in and out of the waves, bringing me sticks to throw, rolling in dead things on the beach, and generally having the time of his life. Me? I was walking as if being pulled down by quick sand, worried the Adult Licensing Board would come strolling up any minute and revoke my license. "We're sorry," they would say. "But whatever gave you the idea you were a grown-up? Clearly there has been some kind of a mistake, Ms. Bregante. You must have cheated on the entrance exam. Or slept with one of the higher ups."

I tried focusing on everything I have to be grateful for. The whole "attitude of gratitude" thing generally works for me, but not that day. I listlessly said things to myself like, "I'm grateful for .... um .... the ocean? Yeah, whatever." I couldn't muster up the energy to feel grateful, just sour and anxious. Intellectually I knew I had a lot to be grateful for. Just last week I wrote about orchards of abundant fruit in my life, but that day the fruit didn't seem as fresh and juicy as it did last week. It seemed more like one of those holiday dried fruit baskets with too many prunes.

So happy dogs and beach walks weren't getting me out of my funk. Gratitude was just making me feel guilty for my bad mood. What's left? 

That's when I thought about Woody Allen. I have been slowly indoctrinating my sixteen year old daughter into the hilarious, thought provoking world of Woody Allen films. I know, I know, the man's personal life doesn't make him much of a role model, but I have to separate the man from his movies. I can't imagine going through life without "Annie Hall" as a reference. I mean, Van Gough cut off his ear for god's sake. I wouldn't want my daughter to date him, but I still want her to appreciate his sunflowers. 

Anyway, so far we have watched "Manhattan" and, just last weekend, "Hannah and Her Sisters," which is a touchstone film for me. In the movie, Woody Allen plays a chronic hypochondriac who, when faced with the possibility of a real illness, is thrust into a hilarious search for the meaning of life. The scene where Julie Kavner reminds him that the malignant melanoma he thought he had was really a stain on his shirt makes me laugh every time I see the movie. I know the line is coming, I wait for it, and I crack up. Just thinking about it makes me smile.

And then it hit me. I'm not a hypochondriac about illness, but I am kind of a hypochondriac about life events. Divorce and taxes really suck, but they're not terminal. Looking for work is daunting in this job market, but I'll be able to do it without surgery. I don't want to minimize how hard this stuff is, but how is it going to help me to wallow in self-pity? As Woody Allen says, "Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering - and it's all over much too soon." It's full of other stuff too, of course, like walks on the beach, exuberant dogs, and Woody Allen movies. I need to take a deep breath, figure out the next right step (not the entire dance routine), ask for help when I need it (that's a whole other post), and laugh. Laugh a lot. Especially at myself. It's either that, or go to the bridge. Right now, the spot's just on my shirt. I choose laughter.

Abundance

"Not what we have but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance."

~ Epicurus

My son Miles and I spent a December morning picking tangerines alongside an army of volunteers from Backyard Bounty. Backyard Bounty is a program out of the Food Bank in which fruit or other produce that would otherwise go to waste is harvested and distributed through the food bank, giving low income families a source of locally grown fresh fruit and vegetables. To give you an idea of how valuable this program is, Miles and I and the other volunteers picked 9,000 pounds of tangerines that Saturday. One mature tree can produce well over a hundred pounds of fruit. Just one tree.

I don't have a fruit tree in my yard unfortunately, but I do have lots of other things that yield an abundance of good, healthy fruit in my life. Sometimes I forget that. Yesterday, when I overdrew my checking account, I almost forgot that. For a few minutes I went into scarcity mode and panicked about not having enough. Then I remembered all the people I have in my corner, and how resourceful I can be, and I knew I would be ok. And when I went to my evening job, there was a paycheck waiting for me. As my friend Chuck said, the cavalry arrived.

I spent more money than I probably should have this Christmas season, mostly on the kids. I just sort of forgot that I have less income these days and that the kids would be getting gifts from their dad too. I've always done all the Christmas shopping for the family, so I just sort of did what I always do. And you know what? It was ok. I was not terribly extravagant. I love everyone I bought gifts for and it felt good to give. Giving showed me how much I HAVE. I have an abundance of loving family, fantastic friends, wonderful kids, a man who loves me, a great dog, good work with lovely people, a religious community that inspires me, a beautiful place to live, and more. And more. And more. I have an abundance of everything that matters. I want to start the new year with that knowledge emblazoned on my consciousness.

It's so easy for me to get caught up in what I don't have. I'm good at beating myself up for my faults, focusing on the places I fall short instead of my strengths. And I can be as petty and self pitying as the next guy. But when I remember to look (and I'm getting better at this) I see that I have enough. I have an abundance of what's important, and enough love and support to help me with what I really do need. In fact, I have a veritable orchard of fruit bearing trees in my life. And let me tell you, they produce the sweetest harvest you can imagine.

May 2014 be a bountiful year for all of us.