My Compliments

Last week’s meditation on commonly confused word pairs opened up one of the rabbit holes which I love to jump down and meander through. Much of what occurs in these quagmires is of little interest to anyone else (especially those with solid mental health), but every now and then I stumble upon (in my opinion) a shareable nugget.

This week, in keeping with the theme of confusion, I investigated the fertile ground of my evolving self-image. And I realized that, throughout my life, I’ve been the recipient of countless proclamations that were intended as insults; proclamations that I now choose to receive as great compliments.

Here are just a few (notice how they all contain too or so, and always remember to consider the source):

You’re so childish. You mean I’m open-minded, creative, fun loving, and sorta irrepressible? I’m learning and growing and full of possibility and promise? Yay!

You’re too loud. So glad you can see and hear me! I’m no longer dimming my light or swallowing my truth.

You’re so impulsive. You mean I make decisions without asking for your input and/or engaging in analysis paralysis? Thanks, I used to second-guess myself about everything before I learned to trust myself.

You’re too much. And I hope to be even more. Also, what are we using as a measuring cup here? Too much for whom? For what?

You’re too sensitive. Really, there’s no such thing. You either are or you aren’t, and the “too” is employed by people who aren’t when they’re called on their bullshit. So thanks for recognizing one of my core strengths.

I’ve no doubt there are more, and I’ll continue to be on the lookout. Because who doesn’t love a compliment?

Ways I Found Joy This Week

Visiting my library on the day they reopened after a month-long closure for renovations

Catching up with the CWP while doing errands together

Arranging a particularly gorgeous bouquet of flowers

Celebrating my dad’s angel anniversary with the CWP, who adored him, by sharing his favorite meal at his favorite restaurant

Being able to take a long walk through town for the first time in months

Things I Learned This Week

About the Borgund Stave Church in Norway, a miracle of Viking carpentry built in 1250 AD without a single nail, which is still standing

That talent, fame, and wealth are meaningless if your fear of losing them results in your inability to stand up for humanity (Iooking at you, Ed)

Quotes That Resonated This Week

Broken doesn’t mean finished.

Frida Kahlo

There are years that ask questions and years that answer.

Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

What I Watched This Week

White Lines (Netflix). I felt invested in finding out who was responsible for the murder that took place twenty years earlier (and it was fairly unexpected), but frankly was glad when the series was over as it was a little over the top for me.

Summer of ’36 (Netflix). An excellent period piece with strong Agatha Christie vibes. The haves and the have nots are vacationing in Nice, France and almost all of them have a motive for murdering a prosecutor. Clever and gorgeous to look at.

The Perfect Lie (Netflix). Four couples in a wealthy town form a dinner club and all sorts of mayhem ensues. Not many likeable characters. In Dutch with subtitles.

What I Read This Week

The Amateur, by Chris Bohjalian. I’ve been loving his books for over thirty years, and this one was no exception. It’s 1978, and Mira Winston is heading to Yale as a golfer to watch when her errant drive kills a young caddy.  This sets off a chain of events that change the course of her life. His trademark combination of cultural and historical accuracy with thoughtful exploration of issues and strong voice made me rip through this in a day.

Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland, by Patrick Radden Keefe. A doorstopper of a book that uses one Irish woman’s disappearance as a focal point for exploring every aspect of the “troubles” by the author of London Falling. Another dense, meticulously researched masterpiece; I’ll be reading this one for a while as I simultaneously escape into fiction.

Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt, by Ben Reeves. Travis is the personification of Death, whose job is to offer people comfort in their final hours. A beautiful, unique, and uplifting novel about living life and accepting death.

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Thanks for reading!