20/31

Links to 19/31 &
The 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

As I've been exploring in this series, it seems to me that vibrant things do in fact possess a power over us: "philosopher Jane Bennett theorizes that things have a sort-of agency—they can "speak" to us... open windows to memories and ideas... summon a deeper relationship." 

So could someone tell my kettlebells? 

I would like them to speak to me like my pea-brain imagines a personal trainer would similar to my 1980s (old-school) PE teacher who would watch some of us attempt various sports and shame us with his literal groans, ha. 

Why won't my kettlebells yell at me and demand I lift them, repeatedly, until I finally morph into the muscular gymbro I was always meant to be? Er, who am I kidding? I just want to live longer and it's my kettlebells' responsibility, right? I'm sure they're well-versed in the facts about aging and muscle loss and protein and grip strength and longevity and other such jargon that bores me—I'm an English major and the only word I like in this (run-on) sentence is jargon. (Actually I quite like the sound of longevity as well.) 

But let's be honest: my not-so-vibrant kettlebells don't give a shit about me. (Insert my old PE teacher's shame groan here.) Do they help me? No. They just sit on their rocker-recliners ,watching TV. (Sometimes I watch with them.) IYAM, at this point they're more like dumb-bells because all my kettlebells do is silently mock me. 

19/31

Links to 18/31 &
The 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

This green ceramic pig with wings sits on a table in the corner of our living room at the front window, looking outside. No one in my family knows this, but this vibrant thing has a job. So shhhhhhhhhh.

I saw it in a home decor store years ago and it said, "buy me!' Also this: "if you buy me, you're an idiot." Also this: "You know you're going to buy me so stop fighting it...you idiot." Also this: "I'm hilarious and stupid and unnecessary and you know that's why you love me!" 

I circled that store like six times trying to leave without this pig, and then it whispered, "I am the middle finger to everyone who ever told you that whatever you thought you could be or do or become was IMPOSSIBLE." 

And so I bought it. I swear the cashier stifled a laugh as I paid her... maybe $29? BUT IT WAS WORTH IT. 

Hear me out: like, who doesn't need a pig with wings? Dear friends, do not believe the naysayers: PIGS FLY! All the time! If you are paying attention, here we are living in a world of everyday impossibles: texting and refrigeration and antibiotics and driverless cars and facial biometrics and contact lenses and hydraulics and vaccines and contraception and pasteurization and the scientific method and deodorant... just look around. 😶

But there's something else about this pig: I trust him—he helps me cope with letting go. Purchased around the time my selfish tender heart was grappling with both our kids leaving home, I fretted how was I supposed to live without them? Sure, I wanted those teens to get the H out of our house then, but would we ever be together again? I could imagine many irrational things that might interfere, might make it impossible for us to be together—crimes, disasters, death—but let's be honest friends, never once did I imagine a pandemic BUT THAT HAPPENED, so irrational thoughts or not, insert smug face emoji here. 

The pig looks out the window because (like me) he's waiting for my son and my daughter to return home. And whenever they both do (with silent relief), I turn this winged pig toward our living room to watch us talk and debate and laugh and eat cupcakes and play games and now our grandkids are here too and all of this is joyful PROOF that despite all the possible ways that this harsh world might plot to prevent us from being together again, we are somehow together anyway and yes dear friends I'm grateful that the impossible is indeed possible. 

18/31

Links to 17/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

My oldest grandson turns three today. He loves diggers and blue, so I hope he enjoys this watercolour I painted for him. 

The subject certainly suits him: he's endlessly curious and also quite mighty, a bit of an immovable force—it's challenging for him to change directions sometimes. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

He has incredible language skills, can sing Bridge Over Troubled Water (!), and drops the best malapropisms like, "For Pete's Egg" and the "finish lion" (plus this favourite, lol). 

He once said to my wife, "Nannie, I love you with all of my blue blue heart." He's a a bit of a budding poet (after my own heart) so I love introducing him to new words; sometimes this has unexpected outcomes including a recent FaceTime call—he spotted me and said, "Hi Hossenfeffer [sic]!" If you're a Bugs Bunny fan, you might appreciate this reference. 😅

I love being his Pops, and am thankful for the opportunity to be a better mentor to all my grandkids than I was for my kids. Raising my daughter and son, I made 13065+ mistakes but the biggest one was perhaps thinking I was protecting them from what I experienced by pressuring them to be better than me. Children are who they are; they will be who they'll be. 

I didn't comprehend then that my vibe was more judgmental than constructive or curious. But now? I just accept my grandkids as they are and encourage them to lift their hearts as they dig into life and marvel at this one awesome extraordinary opportunity to be. 

17/31

Links to 16/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Educators know that it's very special when a student leaves something on your desk: a note, a treat, a drawing. My favourites were always the drawings. Is there any more precious vibrant thing than a child's drawing?

As a former educator, I cherished and displayed them all and somewhere I have a box full of them. Even better, some of my former students pursued careers in art and now a few of their art-pieces are displayed in our home. 

One such original art-piece is this portrait of an early-model typewriter made by this fun-loving creative. As you may or may not know, a portrait typically represents a person, focused on their face, but portraits are not always people. Whatever the subject, it's about capturing the essence, the personality, and in this case, it's obvious that this typewriter has seen some things and has many stories to tell. 

I adore this typewriter. Why? I love to write and I love art—it's the perfect combo and especially meaningful considering that I taught this student high-school English and Art. I also adore the artist, not just for her talent but also for her generosity. To compliment the newspaper column I wrote for decades, she urged me to start a blog. At the time (over 15 years ago), I didn't even know what a blog was, but her encouragement became this creative, reflective, uplifting, sometimes therapeutic space to grow, a life-long lifeline. 

I have no idea what I did to deserve this gift, but I do know this: sometimes the student is the teacher. 

16/31

Links to 15/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

My apologies...but sometimes vibrant things contain strong language. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This fridge magnet makes me smile. A surprise, the gifter accomplished more than making me laugh...isn't it something when a gift makes you feel seen? 

If you know me virtually or otherwise, you probably know that reading is never a trivial pursuit for me. One might say that with regard to reading, most days, I'm booked, 😆 (Sorry.)  

So if you interrupted my reading? The truth is I'd probably never say this (aloud) to anyone, but I do LOVE how this clever novelty item subverts stereotypes about readers who are also introverts aka us quiet folks. 

Speaking of quiet, I highly recommend Susan Cain's book, Quiet, The Power of Introverts. If you identify this way and you're unfamiliar, her research provides healing insight and a handy game-plan for how to live in this (loud) world made for extroverts who may not fathom that loneliness and solitude are not the same thing. For me, solitude is most often the safest space.   

A quote from Quiet: "Some of our greatest ideas, art, and inventions—from the theory of evolution to van Gogh's Sunflowers to the personal computer—came from quiet and cerebral people who knew how to tune into their inner worlds and the treasures to be found there." I'm no Darwin or van Gogh but I do know this rich and treasured inner world and I must say, it's lit (softly, and with literature). 😅 (Sorry.) 

15/31

Links to 14/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Probably similar to most bibliophiles, I have several bookends including my favourite, a pair of elephants my daughter gave me. But THE ones in this photo are pretty special too, definitely vibrant things. 

I am a sucker for any art that incorporates or emphasizes text—if done subtly, it invites curiosity or boosts the interpretation, or as with these bookends, it invites playfulness. 

Fun fact: the word THE is the most common word in the English language. It does a lot of language heavy lifting: it typically announces nouns in sentences, positioning those nouns either before or after the modifying information, such as those revealed in this famous quote from poet Robert Frost, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." 

It seems to me that because it can position persons, places, things and ideas either before or after, the word THE essentially acts as a bookend itself. Whoa, eh? Insert mind-blown emoji here.

If you're also a dork who adores words, you might appreciate this YouTuber, Robwords. 

14/31

Links to 13/31 &
the 31 Things 
Launch Post

These are my two favourite neckties. Like all vibrant things, they tell stories. 

I purchased the Stewart clan tartan in Halifax, Nova Scotia at The Citadel, an important Canadian historical site. I bought the other tie in one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited: Taormina, Italy. 

But the real story behind these ties is their connection to my son, who's celebrating his birthday today. 

I traveled to both the aforementioned locations with my son, the first one a family vacation and then to Italy as a supervisor on his high school travel excursion. In Halifax I bought two types of Stewart tartan and he chose this one. In Italy, I bought two hand-made similar-looking ties, ones I reasoned would never go out of style, and let him choose first. 

One might say these pairs of ties are twins: different, yet the same. Whenever I wear either of these ties, I think of him, of us, and like the day he was born I wonder, how did I get so lucky? 

They say that we fickle men change ideas like neckties, but my hope for all fathers and sons is that the idea, the story of us, endures. 

13/31

Links to 12/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

This is my newest flat cap. (Insert giddy smile here.)

Dear friends, do some research on why men wear caps. Yes, there's some controversy (a certain red cap comes to mind, insert barf emoji here). But head-gear is not necessarily a signifier for intimidation or rebellion or tribalism.  

I grew up on the Canadian prairies where baseball caps were the norm, practically prescribed at birth, and although most of the men in my life wore them—my father, my brothers, my uncles, some of my friends—I knew they didn't feel right for me, with one exception: a gentle cap-wearing man I much admired. More on this below....

In the meantime, I became an educator and I swear that the most contentious and lengthy topic at my very first staff meeting was about enforcing the hat rule. It's disrespectful! It's uncivilized! It's profane! Sigh. Suddenly I wanted to start wearing a cap. 

But nope. Instead I enforced the stupid rule and sometimes it undermined forming connections with the teen boys I was attempting to convince that Hamlet was more tortured intellectual than massive whinger. (Spoiler: he was both.) Coincidentally, this same topic was discussed at one of my last staff meetings, THIRTY-SOME YEARS LATER. After about a decade in education exclusively working with teachers, I had returned to the classroom and was shocked that this hat ideology nonsense was still a raging debate. Puh-leeze. 

By then, I was wearing my own head-gear. Why? I became a Grandpops! I always knew if I ever had the privilege and joy of joining this club, I would wear a flat-cap to signify this most important milestone, to embrace aging minus the grumpy disposition, and most importantly, to emulate my own gentle grandfather. Side note: I must admit I was so removed from the hat culture loop then that I hilariously misnamed my grandfather's flat cap, lol.

Thank goodness hat ideology has evolved (more of this in schools please) because dear friends, my flat-cap is all sorts of fit mental health vibes: gratitude for my favourite five, pride in my identity, a daily mental health boost, and a most meaningful vibrant thing. 

12/31

Links to 11/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Do you have an LED neck light? If not, my condolences. You see, I always wanted to be the bionic man, and now I am!  

And you can too! 

If your eyesight is declining and you can't find anyone to hold the damn flashlight, or you're an artist, a dentist, a jeweler, a plumber, a human with eyes, and especially if you're an avid reader, this vibrant thing is a terrific aide (especially for reading on the treadmill), a part-time assistant, and kind of a low-key superpower. I say get one now and boost your vitamin see. 

Sorry. 

P.S. I'm learning from General Butler that war is indeed a racket, a scheme, a swindle, an extortion.... But my neck light—that's legit! 

11/31

Links to 10/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Christmas lights? Nope. 

They irk me. 😡

Yes, it's irrational, yes it's unfounded, yes it's ironic, yes I'm not proud of it, and yes, you wouldn't think deep breathing is necessary but yes, it is. 

Also this: I know I'm not alone in being riled by these truly vibrant things—things that should evoke celebration, joy, peace, contentment, but instead, they make my blood pressure spike. 

My reasoning? Let's be honest: they can be a cumbersome chore. I once read a news report about a man who attempted to untangle his Christmas lights and after hours of strained patience, he finally got his hand gun and blasted them...then his neighbours reported him. Yes, too far dude, but isn't there a tiny part of you...?

The main reason though? THEY JUST CAME DOWN YESTERDAY. Yesterday. 

Our relentless snowfall, our mini ice-age finally melted (like, last week), and it took a few days to get around to removing them rage-yanking the Christmas lights off the tree in the front yard. Side note: imagine a Maypole dance scene written by Stephen King—that would be me circling our ten foot tree as I unravel a string of Christmas lights (oh jingle bells) seething all the way, deep breathing all the way + 18 swear words, lol. Sigh.   

Here's the kicker: my wife absolutely adooooooooorrrrrrrrrrres Christmas lights. I'm happy they make her happy, but this also means my dark, destructive thoughts (irrationally longing to be vented and affirmed) must remain inside, inconspicuous, and in-check, or risk becoming infamous. 

Here's my point, dear friends: in marriage and partnership things like clutter, or dishes, or laundry, or thermostats, or tchotchkes, and yes decorations too...well, let's just concede that one person's vibrant thing might be more torment than blessing. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯