We went to see Loretta LaRoche last weekend, that funny woman you may have seen on PBS. You can see her here:
http://www.lorettalaroche.com/
Her comic routine is called "Stop Global Whining" and she is hilarious. I think she nailed every single person in the audience at least once with her rapier wit. She skewered people who complain about their weight, their job, the weather, traffic.... I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.
One of her wisdom pieces is "find the bless in the mess." You reframe the situation you're complaining about, turning it from a source of irritation to a cause for thanksgiving. If you're stuck in traffic and fuming about all the other cars, first recognize this simple fact: It's a road. That's where cars go. Next, be thankful you have a car, and a job to go to.
Amazingly, my normally gloomy husband (one of those people who constantly complains about the weather) seems to have internalized her message of positive thinking and reframing. Several times this week he's told me about instances where he's started to fuss--then caught himself and turned it around.
Now, usually that upbeat role is MY role. And for the last year or so, it's been one that's hard to get into. I asked cautiously, "So it's your turn to cheer ME up?" "Sure!" he replied.
Well.
Somehow, just knowing it wasn't all on me to put a postive spin on things was reassuring.
I saw a friend yesterday I don't see much of, and we talked about menopause. I described my crazy brain stuff and she nodded in sympathy.
"But you get over it," she said. "I still get those thoughts. But I can control them now. You'll get through it, too."
That was reassuring, too.
Sure enough, in the wee hours this morning, I woke up and the crazy brain kicked in. But something different happened.
I remembered my husband telling me about the nice walk he'd had with our daughter earlier, and taking her to dinner and talking. It was the first "peaceful moment" they'd had together in a long time, and he was genuinely happy. They had been very close when she was younger. Adolescence had bruised their relationship. He was ecstatic they'd shared such a good time together again.
I thought about how fortunate we are as a family. We do pretty good getting along with each other and the outside world. And we are all healthy, and pretty grounded, and try to do the right thing.
I thought of all the stuff I had to do and all the deadlines I had to meet in the weeks ahead. Suddenly, they didn't seem as important.
I thought, "I've already got the important stuff. I have my husband, my kids, my family, my friends. We have our health. Jon loves his work. The kids will find their place in the world. I have my art, and it will all work out somehow. I have everything I need. Everything else is just details."
Somewhere out of my memory came the phrase, "We are okay and the car is just fine."
I immediately went back to sleep.
Today, I'm remembering a friend's story about a car accident she was in with her young daughter years ago. She hit an icy patch coming home. The car spun out of control and slammed into the steep hillside, narrowly missing oncoming traffic. Miraculously, they were shaken but not injured, and fortunately, only minor damage to the car.
After she'd called her husband to reassure him they were safe, my friend realized her daughter was still repeating over and over the phrase she herself had just used to calm her husband:
"We are okay, and the car is just fine."
I don't know why, but this seems funny--and wonderful--to me this morning.
