Platitudes: I just love ’em.
In my darkest hours, I have relied upon the wisdom of Churchill, St. Francis, Eleanor Roosevelt and Herodotus. I’ve also leaned on the words of Loni Anderson, Oprah Winfrey, Bruce Willis and boy band One Dimension.
I believe deeply in the profound ability of words to heal and to lead.
I believe the right words, in the right order, are a powerful restorative.
And I don’t care where they hail from.
Bumper stickers, fridge magnets, and T-shirt slogans: all gospel to me.
My kids, on the other hand, think I’m a sloganizing simpleton, jingle-izing my way through life, mantra by mantra.
When I roll out one of my more polished chestnuts, they do that annoying thing of parroting my words as I’m saying them:
“If you haven’t got anything nice to say …”
Segue to irritating chorus:
“Don’t say anything at all.”
Lucky for them I then silently count to 10 … while reflecting on the age-appropriate term for infanticide when kids are well past qualifying as infants. I’m liking braticide.
But truth be told, outside of my sapphire tennis bracelet and my sterling silver cutlery for 11 — I have no idea where 12 went — about the best thing I have to give my kids are the platitudes that I’ve relied upon. Stuff, they can get. Philosophy, even if it was acquired off a greeting card or a church billboard, is what gets you through.
Illegitimi non carborundum, indeed.
I have a ring my mom gave me when I was about 22, and particularly down. Now, I have way better rings, but this one is still my favourite. I can still hear her saying, “We were going to give this to you for Christmas, but it looks like you could use it right now.” She then told me that life is hard. But not always, so count your blessings. I distinctly recall sobbing my little Grade 4 eyes out when I had just figured out mortality and I was decidedly not in favour of the concept. I was in the dining room; my brothers and sister were watching cartoons while I was in the midst of a juvenile existential crisis. In particular, what I didn’t want was for my parents to die. My mom sat down at the Danish modern teak table, tea towel thrown over her shoulder, drew me onto her lap and said: “Everything dies, but one day you’ll be so busy living that you won’t even think about dying. The trick is to be busy.” It wasn’t the appeasement that I was searching for — Mortality? Just a rumour! — but it did the trick. She went back to fixing dinner; fears allayed, I went back to Rocky and Bullwinkle. The important thing is that, decades later, I still remember these words. They still inform my life as I gird for battles, real and imagined.
“Seek first to understand.”
Boom!
So, whaddya think? Had you at “hello” right? Perfect, or what?
Page two: “At every threshold, ask yourself: How may I be useful here?”
Page three: “Everything you do says something about you.”
Page four: It’s simple: “Lie? You’re a liar. Steal? You’re a thief. Cheat? You’re a cheater.”
Page five: “Never buy a car you can’t push.”
Some of these homilies are anonymous. Some come from the unlikeliest of places. Newt Gingrich on perseverance:
“Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.” From her book, My Life in High Heels, ’80s bombshell Loni Anderson’s grandmother’s advice: “Never miss a party” backdoors the notion that we’re here to have fun.
Truly: I can’t think of any grander objective than fun but, just the same, I’m juxtaposing that one with Jimmy Carter’s prophylactic, “Duty before pleasure.” The arcane physics of how responsibility offsets disaster is explained in just three words. Also featured: “There is no one alive who is you-er than you”
Well, that’s just truer than true, Dr. Seuss!
And so it goes, page after page; reinforcements and ruminations on the “universe unfolding as it should.” Trouble is: there are more pages than I have platitudes. Maybe you can help?
Send me snippets from your personal creed (to jane@janemacdougall.com), and I’ll share some favourites in my next column. I can’t guarantee the intended recipients are going to be grateful for them but, in time, they will.
“Because time and chance happeneth” to us all.
Ain’t it the truth?