(I owe the first part of this column to an informal writers’ workshop sponsored by the Smithy Pioneer Gallery. The small group, led by Gallery Director Danielle Newell, meets Sunday afternoons and is open to anyone interested in the writing craft. As a warmup exercise on that very rainy afternoon, we each wrote a few paragraphs on the weather and emotions. Here’s what that keen group prompted me to scribble down) The dour old Scotsman, the one featured in jokes without number about buying lottery tickets, pinching pennies, scorning worldly ways, etc., once silenced a friend who was praising the beautiful weather.
``Aye,’’ he said grimly. ``We’ll pay for this.’’
It’s a wonder anyone talks to that Scotsman, the way he knocks wind right out of your sails if you’re happy. But, then, if no one talked to him, there’d be no jokes.
Of course, he’s a caricature of Scots. They really are as jolly and positive as the rest of us. But maybe some do carry a strain of an old-time, stony Calvinism that distains undue worldly pleasure. And perhaps that’s what spoke in the crusty old man: Having too much fun in the world may mark you out as one of the unsaved.
Which means, that as swatter is to fly, God’s wrath will eventually slam you down, ending your fun forever.
But maybe there’s a subtler, more secular grimness in that geezer’s words. Maybe he’s just saying, ``Go ahead and draw your mood from the beautiful weather. But how will you feel when the sleet comes, and the ice, and freezing, wretched snow?’’
Better to soldier along in plodding glumness, than to be bounced around by the temperature and barometric pressure. Hunker down, put up with life. It’ll be over soon enough.
Oh, spare me the company of that old boy! Let him go visit with Eeyore, the donkey in ``Winnie the Pooh.’’ Whatever the weather, Eeyore is at his perverse happiest when he’s feeling low and put upon by existence.
While those two mope together, I’ll sit with a pint of strong cider under a shade tree, rejoicing in the greenness all around, and in white clouds against the blue. And give me a similar pint, when comes the grimmest of winter.
Let me sit, feet propped up by the wood stove, and be thankful for the cider, warmth, and all good things. . .
That’s as far as I got, writing in the good company of those other scribes. (If you’d like to join the fun, call the Smithy: 547-8671, or just show up with paper and pen on Sundays at four.) But I went home that day through pelting rain, thinking about our feelings and their control on viewing the world and living our lives. I thought especially about our emotions.
Later in the week, I carried ruminations further, outdoors and under a shade tree. No cider in hand, but a glass of iced tea. I sat rejoicing in still another day’s display of drifting white clouds (what a summer for them!) and drifted myself into a favorite image for emotions: They're like weather fronts that pass through us.
I like that image. It stresses the lack of control we have on emotions’ overshadowing and then departing us. And, more important, it stresses emotion temporariness.
The lack of control and their fleeting nature mark both positive feelings and disheartening ones. Intense joy really is fleeting (that Scotsman again!), as are simple happiness, serenity, rapture over nature or art, a sense of being blessed, a burst of sudden, intense joy over a loved one. Like weather fronts, these lovely, positive emotions move in, possess, and then move on.
As do the disheartening ones: sadness, for instance, disappointment, a sense of loss, the pain of petty betrayal.
These drift on and finally through us. And we brighten again.
I guess I’d distinguish these transient states of positive and negative feeling from other, more prolonged examples that almost become states of our being. I’m thinking, for example, of crushing grief at loss or a spouse or child, of clinical depression, searing outrage at the way we humans treat one another and all given us in stewardship. Such states aren’t transient. They are only transcended with help, hard work, and (dare I say it?) prayer.
I have a good friend, a hero to me, who has lived with clinical depression for decades. While still suffering, he transcended it by becoming a skilled counselor _ for others with clinical depression.
And searing grief, I know from experience, can eventually give birth to deep empathy with new grievers.
And outrage at humans’ behavior can move beyond banners and marches to determined action, large and small, that counters human self-centeredness.
There are also, of course, blessed and prolonged states of being, some achieved by us, others gifts of grace.
I’m thinking of fundamental serenity; a nourishing centeredness of self (not self-centeredness); the blissful gift of abiding, reciprocal love; a rejoicing in life and even its natural limits. Guard those feelings. They are treasures.
In sum: Put up with the weather fronts, for they’ll surely pass on. Take hold of deeper negative emotions and shape them, as best you can, into the good and useful. And as to those deep states, those positive one: Rejoice and be grateful.
And should you, on a walk, overtake someone like the dour Scot, greet him brightly, link arms with him, and hustle him along a little faster, talking of the good, the bright, the beautiful. He’ll grumble, but he’ll secretly enjoy it.
READ ABOUT Jim Atwell’s book, From Fly Creek—Celebrating Life in Leatherstocking Country at JimAtwell. com
Columns
From Fly Creek: Passing fronts and settled weather
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
It is with sadness that we note the passing of long time friend, and distantrelative, Jane Patrick. Over the years we have worked with Jane in a number of organizations including Women’s Club and the Community Advisory Committee at Bassett. And, of course, in later years we joined her, along with the other Dinner Belles, for any number of delicious meals. But we do think that our favorite memory that we shared with Jane was when we discovered, having both married Cooperstown natives, that we shared Cooperstown Christmas plans.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
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From Fly Creek: Cheers for the Blue Rabbit!
My handwriting’s always been an embarrassment. Way back in elementary school, while most of the others were developing a clear, sometimes graceful hand (especially the girls), my penmanship showed no improvement.
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In These Otsego Hills: This and that ...
We have found the weather so far this year to be on the unusual side. And while we have no problem with the fact that we have received very little snow, we are of the opinion that what we have had instead is not particularly to our liking either. In fact, we are very hesitant to venture out much as we live in fear that the rain will turn to mixed precipitation which will freeze into a sheet of ice. And we are definitely opposed to encountering a sheet of ice underfoot. In fact, we are so hesitant that we now have taken to canceling our participation in events based on what just might be a dubious forecast.
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Book Notes: Feinstein’s latest is sheer enjoyment
Most people who follow sports have probably heard of John Feinstein. As a nationally known author, sportswriter, pundit and broadcaster, he has brought a unique angle to sports journalism. His groundbreaking book on Bobby Knight’s 1986-87 Indiana University basketball team, “A Season on the Brink,” still resonates today as an all-time classic.
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Book Notes: No Trekkie should miss Shatner’s books
It would be hard to find a television phenomenon as popular as “Star Trek.” Even though it was only on television for three seasons and 79 episodes (1966-69) it attracted viewers and devotees that still follow it passionately 45 years later. The fanatical supportspawned several movies and television spinoffs. Star Trek conventions continue to this day. There has never been anything like it.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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In These Otsego Hills: ‘Property must be secured or liberty cannot exist.’ − John Adams
Last week we were asked if we would be interested in previewing a documentary, “The Empire State Divide,”produced by the Foundation for Land & Liberty. And we were more than happy to do so as we understood the documentary dealt with the problems that continue to face family farms.
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From Fly Creek: Now wait a minute!
On the ninth day of Christmas, driving down Cooperstown’s Eagle Street, I saw something astounding! No, not “nineladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans” etc. I saw one jogger jogging. And puffing on a cigarette.
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In These Otsego Hills: Goals of the past and goals of the future
We have long subscribed to the concept that we are always more successful if we, number one, set a goal and then, number two, meet it. And this was our thinking when we decided before Christmas to watch at least part of every college football bowl game. It was perhaps an odd, if not completely nonsensical, goal.
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In These Otsego Hills: Not to our liking ...
It is with sadness that we note the recent death of Steve Nagel. The son-inlaw of our late husband’s cousins, Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek, Steve was married to the Ecklers’ oldest daughter, Gail. We had the pleasure of spending Christmas Eve with the Nagels and the Ecklers in Fly Creek, greatly enjoying the delicious food and delightful conversation.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
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Book Notes: Biography captures the real Stephen Colbert
It would be hard to find a comedian as unique as Stephen Colbert. As the host of “The Colbert Report” on Comedy Central he hasmanaged to leave his mark on the nation’s consciousness in both a serious and humorous sort of way. His unusual wit has allowed him to become American icon. It would be difficult to find another entertainer quite like him.
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From Fly Creek: Christmas and varied blessings
I’m still astounded! The last farmers’ market before Christmas, I was sitting up front, directly under the ceiling heater, shmoozing with the hoi-polloi. (That’s an awkward linguistic mix,but let’s let it go.) As I sipped my hot coffee, a gloved hand came to rest on my shoulder and a warm voice said, “Merry Christmas, Jim.” I looked to my left—it was Santa Claus!
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In These Otsego Hills: Always a learning experience ...
We must admit that we thoroughly enjoyed our 2011 Christmas celebration. We partook of Christmas Eve dinner at the home of Alice and Harvey Eckler of Fly Creek and Christmas Day dinner at the home of Sandy and Al Bullard of Milford. We had our usual Christmas Day brunch at home on Pioneer Street, although we must admit it was a tad bit later than usual as, what we enjoyed most about Christmas, namely our granddaughter Abby, took a great deal of time opening her Christmas presents.
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In These Otsego Hills: Coming up ... 2012
Difficult as it seems, 2011 is fast coming to an end. And it is always our hope that as a year draws to a close, the issues which have been in the forefront during the year will be resolved. Unfortunately, we suspect that will not be the case this year. Instead, we are fairly certain that many of the issues that plagued this year, will continue to plague next year. Thus we will find ourselves still musing about the same issues we have spent time with already. And while we have not come toany conclusions about many of the issues, we do think they would all likely benefit from both sides thinking critically about perspective, risk assessment and possible solutions.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Book Notes: Grisham doesn’t disappoint
John Grisham is one of this country’s most popular authors. Every time he publishes a book it’s an instant best-seller. He appeared on the scene about 20 years ago with his tense legal thrillers, “A Time to Kill” and “The Firm,”and hasn’t stopped producing top-notch novels since.
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From Fly Creek: Still singing, beyond our hearing
This column from Christmas 2001 still speaks deeply to me, and perhaps will to you, too. Take it, please, as my Christmas gift.
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In These Otsego Hills: The 2011 Cooperstown Carol
Since 1984, with the exception of one year, 1999, we have looked forward at the end of the year to going through all the issues of the paper in order to glean those news items which have been worthy of note throughout the year and which should make their way into our annual Cooperstown Carol.
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In These Otsego Hills: The losses are adding up ...
