I love life, and I joyfully awake early without an alarm. I hop out of bed at 5:00 or 5:30 a.m., ready to start my day. I have always been this way, purposely signing up for 8:00 a.m. university classes the entire four years. My sister-in-law Marilyn could luxuriate in bed upon awakening, watching the television for background noise while dozing off again for another hour. Under layers of blankets, my mother read the newspaper and drank her coffee, returning throughout the day to what she deemed her “favorite piece of furniture.”
While I possess an inner joy of living, at the same time, I acknowledge that as humans, daily life often provides us with overwhelming stress. I am at the age where friends are becoming ill, some gravely and permanently, reminding me to never take for granted my early morning wake-ups. Once my eyes open, I glance at my husband and make sure he’s breathing, for I have the same concern about him. While he is wired differently, with a more pessimistic, anxious nature, he treasures daily life as well, and we have been “in it” together for almost 49 years.
As an optimist, I see the proverbial glass half full, which is the good fortune of genetics, taking after my easygoing father. For example, as an optimist, I know I will find a parking space somewhere, while my husband reiterates, “We will never find one. Then what?” I do not argue with such a view. He must process his anxiety in his own way. However, despite my “up” personality, I am also a realist, and the stressors in my life are authentic and worrisome. When I am in an emotionally darker place, I ruminate about the health of my children (even if they are feeling well); the health of my grandchildren; my sons’ driving on the Los Angeles freeways; their finances; the unhoused; climate change; our political world; and the increase in antisemitism and hatred.
And of course, the list continues, for every day a new layer of anxiety appears and tries to envelop me. I have very little control over such issues. I have assumed a more proactive role in recycling, purchased solar for my house, donated to homeless shelters, and educated others on the Holocaust for over 30 years. Still, I am anxious at times, so much so that despite my calm disposition, I am often overwhelmed with a sense of dread, and I feel as if I cannot breathe.
Some of my friends and family have stopped watching the news and have eliminated such information from their social media feeds. I cannot do so. However, after I update myself on what is happening in our country and the world, I immediately try to alleviate such stressors. I take steps to recover and carry on with decreased trepidation.
I read every day. Reading books, both electronic and hard copies, even heavy material, allows me to hyper-focus on another story, another life, another time. I become engrossed within the pages, whether it is fiction or nonfiction. Reading relieves my jumbled mind. I often revisit one of my most impactful books, Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. He provides ways in which we can thrive by focusing on what provides meaning in our lives—a positive message, indeed, and one to heed from an author who survived the Nazi death camps.
I walk outside, which provides free admission to natural beauty through the trees, flowers, and greenery. I am reminded that I am but a small element within the vibrations of nature. I am humbled by the colors of bougainvillea, roses, orchids, and birds of paradise. No humans provide such meticulous beauty so naturally.
Another layer to my delicious walks occurs during my two walks a day with our furry child, Molly, who has a most sweet nature despite her harrowing origin story. She had been sold to the meat markets in South Korea and was rescued by an incredibly dedicated group: LIFE Animal Rescue. We adopted her a week after her traumatic experience, which was almost six years ago. Molly reflects resilience and love, with no remnants of stress from her shaky and frightening beginnings. She is a blessing, and through her almond-shaped eyes she shows me her pure joy of every tree, bush, and blade of grass she inhales.
I surround myself with devoted friends who nurture my soul. Over the years, my friendship road has narrowed. Some have fallen away due to distance despite our intentions of staying connected. Others are physically close, yet we have grown apart as a result of changes in our own priorities and needs. I have weeded out pretentious personalities and those who care little about my thoughts and feelings. Those left within my orbit are quality men and women who have stood the test of time, through difficulties and joys.
Ezzie (10½), Rose (8), Cole (5), and Dylan (2½)—my grandchildren—completely engage me with their inquisitive natures, their abilities to live in the moment, and their passions that encompass the violin, dolls, arts and crafts, baseball, books, dinosaurs, and Legos. “Play ‘Go Fish’ with me, Nana” sends me searching for the deck of cards. When I am engaged in such games and conversations with the grandchildren, I am completely enveloped in their worlds without stress or worry. These little ones provide me with in-the-moment living, which is a true antidote to the negativity that might surround me.
Lipstick. While this might sound silly, I am serious about the color on my lips. I wear lipstick daily because the vibrant colors uplift my spirit. When I am feeling low, I add another color to my lips: red, bright pink, mauve. It’s the one piece of makeup that lightens my daily load.
I dress every day in something different from the day before. I might not even leave the house, but I get dressed for myself in pants, shirt, matching jacket, and shoes. I have made a commitment to wear more hats, for they provide me with a whimsical joy.
I sit in our backyard in my swing chair, on which the noon sun beats down. The slight movement provides me with the necessary lightness of being that counteracts the heaviness of my day. Sometimes I read as I swing; sometimes I sip Chardonnay, and occasionally I take a 20-minute power nap. All these activities within the confines of my swing chair enrich my soul.
I examine pictures of family and friends throughout my home office: My three sons gaze out at me from the “Brothers” picture frame, a reminder of them happily being together for my granddaughter’s seventh birthday. Marilyn and I together at my book signing that she organized. We were so happy and smiling, unaware of the cancer growing within her. Pictures of my grandchildren and my husband eating a four-scoop ice cream with such joy on his face. The picture of me on a motorbike as we zoomed around Saigon while traveling through Southeast Asia. My past student and mentee, Martha, at what would be our last birthday celebration together.
The human condition involves a daily dose of anxiety and tension. At the same time, I commit to focusing on beauty and delight. When I am surrounded by the darker elements of life, I counteract the frustrations and worry with the people and activities that uplift me so I can once again refresh my spirit for the remainder of my day. With a meaningful book, a revitalizing neighborhood walk, a cuddle with lovable Molly, listening to Ezzie play the violin, or a conversation with a dear friend, I can turn darkness into light.
