I loved the movie True Grit when it first came out. Truth be told, I had a school girl crush on Glen Campbell. I was surprised to see the movie being remade. If it’s been done once, why repeat?
Movie remakes, TV shows brought to the US that were successful elsewhere, all raise the question for me—In this world of infinite possibility and infinite creativity, why are we remaking rather than trying new things?
I heard a commentary about this on the radio recently. They talked about importing TV shows that were successful in other countries because it increased the chances of success here. I guess you can point to The Office as an example. Yes, it translated and is successful, but so what?
That pull to copy something that’s worked and increase the odds of success is understandable. As the daughter of an immigrant, security and certainty were something to strive for. Dad worked for Mack Truck, in the engines, carrier and transmissions plant for 30 years.
He earned a decent wage because the shop was unionized. He had comprehensive benefits. He retired at 62 and enjoyed his retirement years until his health failed a year and a half before his transition.
Perhaps remakes and TV imports annoy me so much because I have a tug of war inside of me. ‘Think security’ my dad voices whispers. ‘Think living large and creatively’ my soul voice whispers.
It amazes me that of the billions of people who have lived on the planet, every one of them has been unique. Guess God (or whatever you believe in) wasn’t trying to hedge its bets and increase Its odds of success by cloning high achievers. No, I imagine that creative life saying ‘hmm, wonder what would happen if… and voila, a unique human is born.
Is it possible to have security and live creativity? I think it is if we realize that true security is an inside job. Helen Keller said it well, “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.”
On my good days, I live the truth of Keller’s statement. On my wimpier days, I believe Keller’s sentiment but don’t live it. Ahh, to have more of those good, rich, creative, take risks, don’t-have-to-do-it perfectly days!
What’s possible if we focus on creativity rather than external security?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Hero Waiting to Shine
The advertisement on the RTD bus had a picture of a young child in a super hero outfit with the caption “There’s a hero in all of us just waiting to shine.” The ad was to encourage people to ride the bus. I found myself thinking about the concept of heroism.
We tend to think of heroism in a narrow way—running into a burning building to save a child, throwing oneself on a grenade to save comrades.
Yet heroic is a word that often comes to mind when I observe aging people, especially in a culture like ours that worships youth and doesn’t seem to put much stock in the wisdom of its elders.
My friend Loris is a hero to me. Loris is 96 years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. She never married and her only surviving sibling lives in California. After living in her 2 bedroom home for 55 years, she made the decision to move into an independent living facility. She gave away most of her belongings and downsized to a studio apartment. She started a new life in a new home at the age of 93.
I was worried about her when she first moved but she seemed to make the transition well. Her response to my question about how she made such a big transition with seeming ease, she said it was because it was her idea. “Some people in here,” she said, “were told they were coming here by their kids. At least I made the decision for myself.”
She has no problem speaking her mind. When I told her we were painting the house, she said “Did you get rid of that awful purple in the dining room?” I assured her that we did!
She also was ahead of her time. She moved from Pueblo Colorado to Denver for her job. Her siblings tried to pressure her to move her parents to Denver to live with her. Her father was an alcoholic. “I’m not transplanting the problem,” she said when she refused her siblings’ request.
When her father died, she moved her mother up to Denver. “Those years my mother lived here with me were the best of her life. I enjoyed having her,” Loris shared.
To me Loris is a hero because somehow, despite the many losses she’s experienced in her long life, she finds a reason to get up every day. And not just to get up, but to have a good attitude and be pleasant to be around.
I wonder if I would have her attitude if I lived on my own surrounded by strangers, having outlived my friends and family. Somehow she finds meaning in her life. I consider her not only a hero, but a model for aging gracefully while remaining feisty!
How do you define heroism?
We tend to think of heroism in a narrow way—running into a burning building to save a child, throwing oneself on a grenade to save comrades.
Yet heroic is a word that often comes to mind when I observe aging people, especially in a culture like ours that worships youth and doesn’t seem to put much stock in the wisdom of its elders.
My friend Loris is a hero to me. Loris is 96 years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. She never married and her only surviving sibling lives in California. After living in her 2 bedroom home for 55 years, she made the decision to move into an independent living facility. She gave away most of her belongings and downsized to a studio apartment. She started a new life in a new home at the age of 93.
I was worried about her when she first moved but she seemed to make the transition well. Her response to my question about how she made such a big transition with seeming ease, she said it was because it was her idea. “Some people in here,” she said, “were told they were coming here by their kids. At least I made the decision for myself.”
She has no problem speaking her mind. When I told her we were painting the house, she said “Did you get rid of that awful purple in the dining room?” I assured her that we did!
She also was ahead of her time. She moved from Pueblo Colorado to Denver for her job. Her siblings tried to pressure her to move her parents to Denver to live with her. Her father was an alcoholic. “I’m not transplanting the problem,” she said when she refused her siblings’ request.
When her father died, she moved her mother up to Denver. “Those years my mother lived here with me were the best of her life. I enjoyed having her,” Loris shared.
To me Loris is a hero because somehow, despite the many losses she’s experienced in her long life, she finds a reason to get up every day. And not just to get up, but to have a good attitude and be pleasant to be around.
I wonder if I would have her attitude if I lived on my own surrounded by strangers, having outlived my friends and family. Somehow she finds meaning in her life. I consider her not only a hero, but a model for aging gracefully while remaining feisty!
How do you define heroism?
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Real Cost of 'Stuff'
My husband, Tom, and I are preparing to move from Denver to Raleigh. The only cross country move I’ve ever made was when I moved from Hagerstown, Maryland to Denver in 1980.
My friend Mare and I only expected to be in Denver for the summer. We put our possessions, aka stuff, in the back of her little station wagon named Butterscotch and headed west. When the summer turned into fall, we decided that we weren’t returning to Maryland.
This cross country move is different because we have a house full of stuff. Given the expense of moving this stuff to Raleigh, we’re wondering about the value of some of the things we own.
We visited my mom in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for Thanksgiving and with the expense of moving in mind, I did some power shopping on Black Friday.
I was one of those crazy people in the stores at 5:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving so I could get the best deals on new stuff. I bought what I’d need for my kitchen and mom graciously stored it.
Tom and I started looking at the replacement costs of what we have and asked ourselves—how much of this do we really need? Is it worth moving furniture across the country to the furniture capital of the US?
It’s easy to accumulate. We receive gifts. Someone moves and gives us some things that we might need. We see a deal we can’t resist at a yard sale. We save something we haven’t used in 2 years just in case at some time in the future we might need it.
Tom and I are seriously considering ditching most of what we own that won’t fit into Tom’s truck and can’t be mailed to mom’s house.
At first the thought of getting rid of everything produced anxiety but the more I thought about it, the freer I felt. That feeling of freedom led to a commitment to be more discerning about the stuff I accumulate in our new home.
I already have a ‘one in, one out’ policy about books and clothing. I love books and have to be tough with myself about accumulating yet another book. Although I’m no clothes horse, I realized how easy it was to buy something simply because it was on sale and developed the habit of giving something away when I bought something new.
I’m committed to using my ‘one in, one out’ policy on everything in our new home. I’m also committed to looking at the real cost of anything I bring into the house. How much of my life energy will it take to maintain, dust, move around or otherwise engage with this new item? Will I own it and enjoy it or will it own my precious time?
Time will tell if I turn over a new leaf about stuff but I’m excited about the prospect of giving it a whirl.
What do you think about the real cost of stuff?
My friend Mare and I only expected to be in Denver for the summer. We put our possessions, aka stuff, in the back of her little station wagon named Butterscotch and headed west. When the summer turned into fall, we decided that we weren’t returning to Maryland.
This cross country move is different because we have a house full of stuff. Given the expense of moving this stuff to Raleigh, we’re wondering about the value of some of the things we own.
We visited my mom in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for Thanksgiving and with the expense of moving in mind, I did some power shopping on Black Friday.
I was one of those crazy people in the stores at 5:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving so I could get the best deals on new stuff. I bought what I’d need for my kitchen and mom graciously stored it.
Tom and I started looking at the replacement costs of what we have and asked ourselves—how much of this do we really need? Is it worth moving furniture across the country to the furniture capital of the US?
It’s easy to accumulate. We receive gifts. Someone moves and gives us some things that we might need. We see a deal we can’t resist at a yard sale. We save something we haven’t used in 2 years just in case at some time in the future we might need it.
Tom and I are seriously considering ditching most of what we own that won’t fit into Tom’s truck and can’t be mailed to mom’s house.
At first the thought of getting rid of everything produced anxiety but the more I thought about it, the freer I felt. That feeling of freedom led to a commitment to be more discerning about the stuff I accumulate in our new home.
I already have a ‘one in, one out’ policy about books and clothing. I love books and have to be tough with myself about accumulating yet another book. Although I’m no clothes horse, I realized how easy it was to buy something simply because it was on sale and developed the habit of giving something away when I bought something new.
I’m committed to using my ‘one in, one out’ policy on everything in our new home. I’m also committed to looking at the real cost of anything I bring into the house. How much of my life energy will it take to maintain, dust, move around or otherwise engage with this new item? Will I own it and enjoy it or will it own my precious time?
Time will tell if I turn over a new leaf about stuff but I’m excited about the prospect of giving it a whirl.
What do you think about the real cost of stuff?
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