Saturday, June 21, 2014

Live Love Laugh

A cursory Internet search leads me to conclude that most people track the source of the popular saying––Live, Love, Laugh––to the poem "Success," written in 1904 by Bessie Anderson Stanley. But in that poem, the words are not in the same order, but occur, "lived … laughed … loved," past tense. And yes, some of the renditions place the words in the order, Live Laugh Love. Plus, right or wrong, there are various other derivations and attributed sources as well. 

But no one mentions a song.

By now the saying Live Love Laugh goes beyond copyright, but the exact phrase is embedded in a song, recorded by many artists and written by Harry M. Woods.

How did this connection occur to me? Driving by, I saw a red robin splashing in the street's gutter and the next thing, I'm singing aloud:


When the red, red robin comes bob, bob bobbin' along
There'll be no more sobbin' when he starts singin' his old sweet song.
Wake up! Wake up, you sleepyhead
Get up, get up, get out of bed
Cheer up, cheer up, the sun is red
LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH and be happy …
 
Photo courtesy of Scott Liddell


Aha! Who knew? And now you do, and that makes me happy.





Thursday, June 12, 2014

Let It Go

Instead of whistling while I worked, I kept humming and singing "Let It Go."

More than a messy closet

A week ago today, I tore into my closet, a job long overdue and much dreaded. Good thing my husband went with our son-in-law to spend the night at his ranch.

Last Thursday, after 9,940 steps on my Fitbit, I did not uncover my bed until 10:54 p.m. You have to make a bigger mess to clean a mess, and mine had been accumulating, gaining ground, burying me under too much stuff. 

Only that day was just the beginning.



People can get used to anything.


My bed is under there somewhere





Almost empty

 

Lunch Break 

Before my husband left for the ranch, I confessed my sin. 

"This is psychological." And even as I try to admit my problem, I feel as though I'm hiding behind fig leaves. I'm ready to cry.

"I thought you were just cleaning your closet," he said. 

No. I am tortured by this mess. By insecurity, this need to have more than I need. Some kind of buffer against deprivation. Both my daughters recognize and associate my pathology with "whatever happened to you in childhood." 

Yes. Adult children of alcoholics develop ways of coping with fear and insecurity. In the back of my mind as I worked is what my husband has said repeatedly. 

"You can't tell the difference between what's important and what isn't." 

So everything becomes overly important, things too important to part with because of what some keepsake represents to me. Not to mention clothes I no longer wear. How's that for tip of the iceberg analysis?

 

My Crazy Heart

In the movie Crazy Heart,  the character Jean Craddock, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal says to Bad Blake, played by Jeff Bridges, "Living with you is like living with a rattlesnake." 

The fear of stepping the wrong way, saying the wrong thing, when all you want is to go your way, survive, that fear is crippling for persons who live with an alcoholic, or in my case grew up living with an alcoholic. Today I have oodles of empathy for what caused my parents to drink, but the effects on me have remained. 

My husband and eldest daughter tell me. "If you died today, it would all get hauled off."


A Crisis of Belief


Do yourself and everyone you love a favor. Let it go.  



video



… I finally can breathe. 
 I know I left a life behind
But I'm too relieved to grieve

 

Earn its place


My eldest daughter recently emptied her closet, saying that everything she put back once it was emptied had to "earn its place."

Edit as you go

 

Bonus Round


My youngest daughter came and helped me organize office space, which is why I can sit down and write this blog. But the real reason I share this cathartic experience has to do with the weight lifted and the freedom I feel now that this job is done. 

Now I can think. And play. And write. Ta-dah!


Where I sit to blog