Gratitude

I'm reading a book for an HR book club at work. I love book clubs. I now belong to two, soon to be three. The perk of this particular club is that I got the book (hardcover!) for free. It's called "Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard" by Chip and Dan Heath. It's a business self-help sorta book. Not one I probably would've chosen to read on my own. Anyway, between snappy case studies and an analogy comparing the emotional and rational sides of a person to an elephant and its rider, there was a line that captured my attention. 

"Imagine a world in which you experience a rush of gratitude every single time you 

flipped a light switch and the room lit up."

For a second I imagined this literally. And, truthfully, it seems like a bit much. It made me think of the crazy blend of awe and wonder Amy Adams captured so well as Giselle in Enchanted. (I really don't know why I'm thinking in terms of Disney movies lately. Gosh, there have surely been doctoral dissertations on Disney indoctrination in American children's psyches. Back to the quote though...) It makes me wonder about the lack of gratitude in my daily life. I imagine feeling thankful would have a snowball effect of positive emotions.

I think I saw an example of this in grad school. There was a woman in my education cohort named Kim. I met her on the first day of math class when she sat down next to me and promptly introduced herself with a big smile. I thought she was about 30. I found out months later she was around 50. Wow, what a shocker. Her sheer joy was youthful in so many ways. Even later I found out she had had breast cancer. She was always smiling, always sort of in awe of how great everything is. I wonder if people can achieve that without facing a life-threatening condition...

While I can't imagine truly feeling grateful every time electricity works its wonders, I would love to find the peace that comes with gratitude. My Great-uncle Ralph is 90. He and I exchange emails. I love what the wrote one day: At my age, the talk of death is something  one faces every time you go to bed at night.  But then you wake up the next morning and Hey!!  Another beautiful day!!

It is another beautiful day.

Belle and Books

I had a great weekend. There's nothing like having a friend visit to make you explore the city you live in. Oh, and seeing the friend is good too.


The weekend was H.O.T. As my dad would say, "Hotter than a fox in a forest fire." Yup, that's accurate. That didn't keep us inside, nor poolside. On Saturday we walked to Eastern Market. We meandered among the vendors, nabbing samples of fruit and looking over the doodahs. I went a little crazy buying five zany headbands. Of course I was ridiculously indecisive about which to buy, but I think I got some good ones--nice and zany and girly.


At lunch we sat down at a table with a group of ladies from Tennessee. Love that accent. Moving down south-ish, I've met people from a bunch of new states, like Arkansas and South Dakota. People even say "Yes, ma'am" to me. Happened twice today. Huh.


We went to the Library of Congress. Amazing place. The inside reminds me of Europe. I love the quotes on the wall and the paintings. What really got me, though, was the view of the main reading room from above. I know my eyes widened. The place is a reader's dream, this reader's dream anyway. When I saw the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, one word popped into my head: home. 

The lowest set of arches is where the bookshelves are. They even had those rolley ladders. You know the type that Belle slides across in Beauty in the Beast. I never realized until the other day how much I've always wanted to do that.