2019 JOCELYN v 2022 JOCELYN

I had to go to town yesterday; just a short jaunt in with a visit to my mother-in-law being the only necessity. But since I was going anyway I added a couple more stops to make it worthwhile ... the Credit Union, Coop Hardware for water, Post Office, and a few groceries.  By the time it was time to get ready to go I realized how my life has been altered over the past two years.

I recall 2019 Jocelyn. She made a lot of trips to town, probably too many. She was gregarious, and friendly and engaged in her community. A trip to town for her usually meant stopping in at a friend’s place for coffee. She attended meetings, stopped to chat with folks on the street, made lunch dates with her favourite people. Ah, those were the days.

She would have never had the argument I had with 2022 Jocelyn yesterday. 2022 Jocelyn didn’t want to change out of her sweat pants to make the trip.

Granted, she had valid points: she said they were warm and cozy, she assured me that she was only going to see a couple people, she insisted no one would recognize her anyway because she would be wearing a mask and so would they.  She even promised to only talk to people wearing glasses because between masks and fogged up glasses they would hardly know she was even there, let alone who she was. It was hard to argue with that one.

I stood my ground though. I told her she had to have some vestige of pride left in her, that she was just being lazy and to go change her clothes. I won that round but it’s getting harder every time. 2022 Jocelyn’s Give-a-Darn is pretty much busted.

Now, to be fair, this is a poor time of year for any version of Jocelyn. While I’m happy to live in Canada and sincerely love all the seasons, winter could be a little shorter. The shortness of the sunlit hours gets to me. I call it the Winter Doldrums. It’s cold and boring and monochrome outside and the most tedious job in the world –deciding what to make for supper - becomes ten times harder throughout January and February.

I don’t know if my Facebook memories are helping either. Every morning I’m greeted with scenes of other Januarys; camping in Australia, gathering seashells on beaches, palm trees, and rolling surf. On the one hand it helps to remember such places do exist, on the other hand they just don’t feel accessible right now. Yes I know, with both of my passports in hand (Canadian and Covid) it’s legal for me to go, but is the hassle worth it? So far the answer has been ‘no’.

And so I’m enduring my captivity with the Lady of the Sweat Pants.  I should have known better than to let her buy them in the first place. She’s been leaning more and more toward comfort clothing lately. Heaven knows all this alone time has seen a lot of her previous clothing mysteriously become uncomfortable. There is no denying that an elastic waistband is the best invention ever.

I should have known that these pants would only cause trouble; that she would never want to wear anything else.  She made me feel how soft and fluffy they were on the inside, and showed me that if she chose the right colours they wouldn’t show pet hair. I might not have given in if it hadn’t been such a good sale, but she got me there – we are both pretty cheap.

I remember 2019 Jocelyn with fondness. She had higher standards, she cared more about social norms. The only time she ever went to town in sweat pants was if the Farmer needed a repair and it was 20 minutes till closing time – and a two minute dash into Redvers Ag hardly counts as ‘in town’ anyway.

2022 Jocelyn is sliding down a slippery slope.  Some days she doesn’t even change out of her pyjamas until almost noon.

Oh wait: what year did I retire?  Heck, even 2013 Jocelyn did that.

 

PLANTING SEEDS

There is a meme circulating on Facebook this week that is stunning in its simplicity. In a few short words and cartoonish images it conveys more power and hope for the future than anything else I’ve seen.  If it’s come up on your feed you’ll know the one I’m talking about without me saying another word. 

For those of you who haven’t seen it I will describe it: two little cartoon characters are standing on a landscape labeled 2022. One of them is clearly very stressed about the future and the other one is happily preparing to garden.  The first says “Aren’t you terrified of what 2022 could be like? Everything is so messed up ...” to which the second replies “I think it will bring flowers.”  The worried guy incredulously responds with “Yes?  Why?”   and the calm, smiling little guy answers “Because I’m planting flowers.”

Such a simple exchange; such a powerful message.

And I’m not just saying this because I’m a gardener already dreaming about planting seeds into warm soil as my normal tactic to get me through minus 40 degree temperatures (although it is undeniably what I do every January).  The lesson goes so much deeper than actual seeds in actual dirt.  It speaks of hope, and faith, and taking responsibility for our own happiness and wellbeing. Not only that, it opens us to the idea that if everyone focussed on planting their own flowers – meaning spreading kindness and beauty within their own little circle – the whole world would be a much less scary place. 

As a writer I am always impressed when an author – or in this instance, an artist – manages to convey such a powerful truth with such a bare minimum of words or pictures.  In this case it’s hard to tell if there is more power in the message itself, or in the simplicity of how it is being told.  What I do know is that it strikes home with all of us.  It gets us right in our humanity.

We are all captains of our own ships.  We all sail on the same sea of life where there are storms we have to weather, rocky shores we need to avoid, and shallow waters we can run aground in.  Whether we are dealing with these things on a simple raft or an ocean yacht, the only thing we are actually in control of is ourselves. 

We can choose to let our anxiety damage our chances of success and squander our peace of mind on circumstances we cannot change, or we can focus on the little things within our capacity to control: the kindness we show others, the humour we infuse into our daily lives, the human connections we make. 

Both of these little cartoon characters face the same future in the same uncertain world.  One of them is standing, petrified by his worries, his eyes on a horizon obscured by clouds of doubt and imagining the worst.  The other one is choosing to take an active part in his future, however small that contribution might be.  He is taking seeds (a perfect symbol for hope) and plans to nourish them until he has flowers – a reward for him, but it will also make the world a better place for everyone else at the same time.  Not only does he expect flowers but he plans to be an active participant in their growth.

So, first I praise the powerful brevity of this meme and then I spend multiple paragraphs probably over explaining it.  I hope I didn’t spoil it for you, but please think about what it says.  Do yourselves a favour, set your sights on something positive, take an active role in its fruition and make the world a better place.

Go plant some flowers.  I’m going to.