E: Every Day–Make is a Success!
Get out of bed every day and face your life, as much as you dread the day or hate doing that. And work to accomplish just ONE THING each day.
If you do that, you’re a success. Some days, getting out of bed will be your great accomplishment. And that’s ok! Good for you!
Some days are just that rough.
“My formula for living is quite simple. I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night. In between, I occupy myself as best I can.” (Cary Grant)
“I’ve developed a new philosophy… I only dread one day at a time.” ~Charlie Brown (Charles Schulz)
The airplane tickets were booked. I was committed. And the second the deed was done, I began to regret it. I felt SICK inside!
I didn’t talk about the trip. I tried not to think about it. And the closer it got, the sicker I felt inside. And, I confess, I started feeling a little bit resentful of my husband for “making” me go. I wasn’t thrilled with any part of it. Not even the whole “it’s our birthday weekend and we’re going to Colorado to celebrate it!” aspect of it.
I wanted to cancel the trip, back out, wished I could get food poisoning or something, ANYTHING, that could excuse me from a return to my home state. But no such luck. Too soon I found myself ascending from the tunnels at DIA.
Denver.
I was home.
And I felt o.k. about it all.
And then I left the airport and actually headed to where I used to live. A very strange sensation.
“…That sensation, that’s what I want.” (Picabo Street)
Uhhh, no thanks. My new philosophy was in full force.
When I was a girl, I dreamed of perfection: perfect days. I had a pretty great life, basically a fairy tale life until age 19, and I knew that. I appreciated that. And I looked forward to life’s continuing fairy tale perfection for the remainder of my days until…1986—when “life” hit.
One Tragedy. Loss my teenage mind could hardly comprehend. Grief. Hardship. (And the occasional despair!) I learned to deal with it, but never abandoned my dream of fairy tale perfection. Two decades later I again enjoyed a pretty great life, a fairy tale life in many ways until…2009—when the VERY “unexpected life” hit.
Now that I’m older and have moved through additional storms and am hopefully a little wiser, I think I’ve decided I’d settle for a “perfect” day—although I’m not even sure I’ve been able to create or capture many of those either! There’s always something I fall short in, or a struggle that confronts me, that results in some degree of imperfection during almost every 24-hour period.
So here’s my new ideal:
“Every day one should at least hear one little song, read one good poem, see one fine painting and—if it all possible—speak a few sensible words. (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)
That sounds doable, doesn’t it? Especially in today’s web world: hear a little song, read a little something, see something visually uplifting…Even I can do that, I think.
It’s the speaking “a few sensible words” that may be a challenge! Lol.
Make it a perfect day. And be sure and let me know how it went for you.
In my old life, world travel was a part of the perks. Once we even rode The Blue Train in South Africa. (The Blue Train is a luxury travel experience, I’ve heard it compared to The Orient Express.) The personal butler was fun, the scenery (like watching ostriches race alongside the train during parts of the journey) is unforgettable. My children loved hanging out at the bar and having friendly bar staff in jungle-themed tuxedos prepare unlimited milkshakes and specialty non-alcoholic drinks. But mostly, The Blue Train is less about the scenery and more about the experience of the train itself. And the more I ponder that travel memory, the more I realize it’s a lot like life.
The book on my nightstand reminded me of that.
“Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the window, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at the crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minute for loitering—waiting, waiting for the station.
‘When we reach the station, that will be it!’ we cry. ‘When I’m 18.’ ‘When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes-Benz!’ ‘When I put the last kid through college.’ ‘When I get a promotion.’ ‘When I reach the age of retirement I shall live happily ever after!’
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
‘Relish the moment’ is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it…’
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.”
(Robert J. Hastings, “A Penney’s Worth of Minced Ham: Another Look at the Great Depression,” [Carbondale, Ill.: Southern Illinois University Press, 1986], 90-91)
“There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.” (Alfred Hitchcock)
Finally the day came when we expected the anticipated letter in our mailbox. (Our bishop (pastor) had announced the mission call would be arriving that week, and we’d heard from everyone around us that mission calls generally arrive in the Provo/Orem area of Utah on Wednesdays.)
It was Wednesday.
Everyone was full of anticipation. Especially my oldest son for whom the call would be issued. I occasionally joke at his absentmindedness, but even HE was calling ME to check the status of the mailbox. I was stuck at work, so I couldn’t check myself. So I called home and had my youngest son checking every few minutes. That day, it was so odd, but the mail NEVER came! I was becoming increasingly stressed by the unknown, and then to not have the mail delivered was indescribably frustrating. I drove home, somewhat frustrated, when I thought to call my son.
I found out the call had come, and that my son and a group of his friends would be at my home that evening for its opening. (I guess he’d had his sister checking the mail, too, and she’d gotten it and taken care of everything related to it. They just forgot to tell their mother or their younger brother. So there I am, calling occasionally from work, hounding my son about making another trip to the mailbox and thinking the mail hadn’t been delivered when it had been, only to be scooped up by another pair of excited hands!) My son excitedly told me everyone who was coming that night for the opening of the envelope and when he mentioned even some of MY friends, I finally had to say it: “You mean even MY friends knew you got your call…but you forgot to tell your own mother?” My son defended his actions; to him, he’d done the most logical thing in the world. ”What do you mean I didn’t tell you? I put it on Facebook!”
It’s times like that I see I’m a dinosaur in a new generation. Facebook—now why didn’t I think of that?
“We all have a dinosaur deep within us just trying to get out.” (Colin Mochrie)
“Whenever I don’t have to wear makeup, it’s a good day.” (Cameron Diaz)
The other night I was in the bathroom, removing my makeup, getting ready for bed. About the time I entered the raccoon stage—big black circles of eye makeup and mascara mixed with Vaseline (I’m an 80s girl, what can I say? And it’s less expensive than professional makeup remover from Mac, Clinique or any other department store makeup counter), my husband walked in.
He asked, “Do you have any of those makeup remover ‘sheets’?”
I assumed he saw the archaic yet inexpensive makeup removal system I was using and was suggesting I splurge on something better. I clarified, “You mean the little towelettes that come pre-moistened? I’ve used them before, but they’re expensive; not a part of the budget in my new life.”
“Yes,” he replied. “I know they’re more expensive but…”
I assumed he was telling me he thinks I’m worth the extra few dollars said product would cost. But instantly, in that moment, just as I began to get swept away by the romance of my new husband’s caring and concern for even my makeup removal, and before I could respond, he lifted his hair back, showed me his forehead and said, ” I mean, look at this! I tried to take it off, but it doesn’t come off easily. Those towelettes work really well.”
Stage makeup.
For the theater production he’s in this summer at Sundance resort in Utah.
“The Sound of Music.”
It opens this Friday, July 29.
I gave him some of what I was using, and we both stood at the counter, together, and removed our makeup as we talked about the day.
Second marriage moment #20. Standing in front of the mirror, removing my makeup, while my husband did the same!
I never EVER expected that one.
“I mean, look, I wear makeup in films. I don’t wear makeup in real life. It’s just part of the gig, that’s all.” (Bruce Willis)
Really. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the message my husband would want me to share with the world should I reveal (as I have) that he sometimes wears makeup because, “not everyone is as liberal-minded as you are,” he says.
Speaking of liberals and conservatives, and politics in general, here’s a good one: “The reason there are so few female politicians is that it is too much trouble to put makeup on two faces.” (Maureen Murphy)
| “If you want to make your dreams come true, the first thing you have to do is wake up.” (J.M. Power) |
I woke up.
It was the day of my wedding.
I was calm, at peace, happy, excited and really didn’t have anything to worry about, except #5 showing up! (A snowstorm was in the forecast, and he was driving down with my two oldest children that morning.) It was getting pretty close to the time we needed to be at the Manti L.D.S. Temple, and just as I noticed that and began to worry about the snow and wonder if #5 was going to show up, I heard his voice in the kitchen.
He had arrived!
I confess, my heart did a little leap when I heard him.
I walked out to greet him and I confess, again, that my heart did another leap when I saw him. (Do I have a crazy crush, or what? I should probably marry the man!) He looked so handsome, standing there in his new wedding attire–dark suit, red tie–and his “longer” hair. (He auditioned for a film role that requires longer hair, so he’s been growing it for awhile. He was worried about the long hair and joked he’d have to photoshop his head onto our wedding photos because he looked so scroungy, but honestly, I’m kind of liking it!)
I rushed to finish getting ready, #5 soon informed me it was time to go, so I grabbed my dress and we drove to the temple.
Totally happy.
Totally in love.
Totally calm.
Totally at peace.
And then we were at the temple. As we walked toward the front doors, I couldn’t help but reflect on the previous generations of my family members who had done the very same thing at that very same temple: my parents, my grandparents, my great-grandparents on both sides and many others. It was a beautiful building and the perfect place for me to embark on an entirely new adventure (slightly more expected than the last one, I might add!)
As we walked the halls of that sacred place, climbed the famous spiral staircase built by pioneers that still stands as an engineering marvel today, and entered the room we were married in I had only one thought: “This day is worth absolutely everything I endured to get here. Every single event that led to this moment, the waiting, the enduring, the challenges, everything…I would go through every single one of them, again, to learn what I have learned and to end up here with #5 today.” I believe that sometimes we have to go through very difficult things to get to exactly where we need to be.
And then we were married. The whole thing could not have been more perfect (except for my damp palms, I don’t know why I had them because I wasn’t nervous, but that wasn’t very romantic of me; my sincerest apologies to #5.) What I remember most about my wedding is that it all couldn’t have been more perfect! Through the whole thing I kept thinking, “This is absolutely perfect! This is my favorite wedding I have ever been to!” And it was.
At the end of the ceremony, the man performing our marriage and sealing told #5 to kiss his bride–so #5 did. Afterward, the sealer commented that it was one of the lengthier, thorough, and more “romantic” kisses he had ever witnessed in the temple, and without missing a beat #5 explained, “That’s because we’ve had a lot of practice!”
Although I’m pretty sure #5 was referencing my age, since I’m a newlywed, I’ll let it slide:) But let me say this:
“Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.” (“The Princess Bride”)
But I may be slightly prejudiced.:)
“The day before is what we bring to the day we’re actually living through, life is a matter of carrying along all those days-before just as someone might carry stones, and when we can no longer cope with the load, the work is done…” (Jose Saramago, “The Cave”)
And then it was the day before my wedding.
Those months of soul searching following the revelations that led to my unexpected life; the shock, grief and loneliness that had once been mine day in and day out during the aftermath of an unexpected divorce and move to a new state; the dating, the bachelors, the going it alone without parents or a partner came to a screeching halt.
I was getting married the very next day–if all went well.
It was a bit more complicated than the first time, though. I didn’t just have to show up at the ceremony, packed and ready to depart on a honeymoon afterward, without a care in the world.
I had to finish my work and meet some deadlines. I had grand plans to make a wedding gift for #5 and had procrastinated finishing it, so I had to get that done. I had to arrange for childcare while I was gone. I had to make sure my house was clean enough for someone to stay in during my absence and for #5 to move in to when we returned from our honeymoon. I had to make sure financial details were taken care of and that there was food in the house for my children while I was gone. I had to make sure I had not just my wedding dress and was packed for a honeymoon, but I had to make sure my children’s wedding clothes, etc…were clean, and packed, as well! LOTS of details to remember and attend to.
But I did it. I worked all day, rushed home, went to the bank, went to the grocery store, did laundry, packed, loaded the car with everything I needed to take to Ephraim, Utah, including my younger children, drove there and arrived safely that night. My sisters and their families helped with final wedding preparations. I even finished #5′s wedding gift that night, thanks to help from my sister. And after all of that, I was still in bed by midnight or 1 a.m..
My last night as a single woman was also very different than the first time. The first time, in the 1980s, I was in a hotel room with my mom and my sisters, so nervous I couldn’t sleep. My mom gave me a tranquilizer to calm me down but it didn’t help and my sister and I lay awake in bed, talking and laughing, until the wee hours of the morning. (Actually, we didn’t go to sleep until my mom reprimanded us, just like she had when we were little girls!)
But in 2011, the night before my wedding, I slept alone. In my sister’s basement. (Although she came to check on me once or twice through the night.) And I was so relaxed and calm I couldn’t believe it. I went to sleep and actually slept! However, I woke up unexpectedly at some point in the night.
I couldn’t sleep.
And then I couldn’t quit thinking. Even worse, I was thinking about things I never expected to think about–and it was hard to think about some of it: dreams I’d had as a little girl; experiences I’d shared with my parents, knowing they weren’t alive to share one of my most important of experiences, marriage to #5; everything that had led me to the new marriage opportunity, including the shocking revelations, the Ponzi scheme, the divorce, the move, the aloneness, everything I had been through and everything I had learned.
It was sort of a life in review. I think it was me, Andrea Merriman, doing some introspection on the eve of one of the most important events of my life. Allowing myself to look back one final time. I had forgiven, I had healed and was continuing to heal. I guess I was making sure I’d made peace with it all; getting ready to take a major step forward. I couldn’t help it; I had one final, brief, cry. And I went back to sleep, knowing the next time I awoke, it would be my wedding day.
“But the important thing is to lie down and fall asleep. That little nap means you wake up fresh again and can continue.” (James Levine)
