Kitchen Dancing, and other strategies for staying sane

A few nights ago, as a fierce thunderstorm rolled across our little village we took an extra bit of time at dinner - enjoying the candlelight, the good wine, and the coziness of shelter among the storm. As we (eventually) began to clean up the music moved to Etta James version of ‘At last’… our song, actually one of many that we claim. And thus began the kitchen dance.

I think every couple (or, the happy ones) have their own kitchen dances - it is, in my opinion, one of the small acts of love that contribute to the big acts of committed marriage. It is intimate, sweet, and just for the two of you. Or, as my (now grown) son used to do - becomes a three (s)way with a toddler squished between, clinging to legs and stepping on feet for his own movement.

Finding moments of peace are becoming difficult. This morning I received two e-mails from friends who were lamenting life as it exists. One claimed that his upbringing amidst WWII forged his personality and he sees a diminution of those values today; perhaps, but I also urged caution to gloss over the atrocities (racism, homophobia, etc.) that were part and parcel of everyday life just a few decades ago. there is so much we have to praise in this time: freedom of lifestyle choice, political views, artistic expression, etc. The fact that so many people are agitated is a sign of hope that social/political action will be strengthened. But in the meantime… well, we just need to free up some real estate in our brains for peaceful musings.

My go to is needlework, it has the sure-fire benefit of calming, soothing repetition. Add a dose of good music or a movie and I’m transported to la-la land. And it’s practical, a useful product emerges from the effort. My latest is an homage to our summer destination: Nantucket. Our granddaughter loves visiting us on the island, and spends her time there in an dormered upstairs bedroom writing in her journal, or at the beach, or on a bike path. So the latest project is a pillow (not quite finished yet) that will help her to recall many happy days.

Other people find solace in sports (my husband!) or gardening, or ironing, or cooking, or whatever the vehicle they find for reducing stress and finding peace. There are too many voices screaming at us, from all sides. One of my Irish relatives often used the expression that his gardener said to him after being told they were expecting their ninth child: “time to get quiet now”. Amen.