Recalibration #1

posted in: Musings 12

something comingJanuary. The start of a new year. And also the month in which I was born. I’ve always liked that, having my birthday on the first month of the year. When I was a child, a January birthday meant that if I hadn’t received something I wanted for Christmas, I might still get it for my birthday. My January birthday supplied reason to hope. In my adult life, though, while January continues to give me reason to hope, the hopefulness has been related to a sense of starting over, both in the New Year that is readily recognized, as well as a new year in my own life. An opportunity for considering a What Next. A future to be envisioned. A full enjoyment in the process of envisioning and the possibility of living it out. As good as all of that has been, even lifting me up in the years that I may have been feeling my own pain and loss as the calendar changed, this year seems different than that. Even more than that. Bigger than that.

As 2016 was ending I began to read the book, Lowcountry Heart. This book is a collection of recently gathered letters by Pat Conroy, published after his death in March 2016, from pancreatic cancer. The letters were apparently from a blog of Conroy’s, author of The Great Santini, The Prince of Tides, South of Broad, and others. According to the introduction, Conroy hated the term blog and didn’t want to have anything to do with one but would be willing to write letters to his readers. And so he began each of these letters with “Hey, out there,” and ended them with “Great love out there.”To me, Conroy’s books are dark and painful to read, coming from a dark and painful early life. Even though his language is rich and beautiful, I haven’t wanted to bear witness anymore to the pain of his characters. But when I read the first letter, with “hey, out there” and “great love out there,” I fell in love with Conroy. In general when I am writing a musing, I do think of who might be reading it, not necessarily one person in particular, perhaps even someone I don’t know, and I find myself speaking to that person. I wish I had thought of owning up to that from the beginning and I had said a literal “Hey, out there” as I began to write. I felt Conroy’s caring about me, a reader, in that little greeting, and when I read the first closing sending great love, my heart was touched. What could be better than receiving great love from someone whose work you are reading? Through the page. Just like that. Although Conroy is now no longer on this earth, the love he sent still came through his writing to me.

It happened that I started Conroy’s book on a plane flight immediately after I had finished Fannie Flagg’s most recent book, The Whole Town’s Talking. Have you read Fannie Flagg? In contrast to how I felt reading Conroy in the past, I have loved Fannie Flagg’s books. She writes about small town people living ordinary lives with seemingly simple ins and outs. I enjoy their rhythm, which seems calming. But then in each book, Ms. Flagg gives the reader something very special before the end. Suddenly there is a picture of something more than an easy flow of people living their lives, something the reader wouldn’t have expected, something more with a deeper meaning. The same thing was true for me with The Whole Town’s Talking but even more than I had come to expect from Fannie Flagg. The surprise in this book seemed to give me a sudden inside view of the circle of life, along with absolute satisfaction and delight, one of bright moments that some people call an “aha.” Such a sense of the All is Well.

It was with that All is Well feeling that I began to read Lowcountry Heart and found “hey, out there” and “great love out there.” In one of the early letters, Pat Conroy said “I like to sit alone and think about things. Solitude is as precious as coin silver and it takes labor to attain it.” Suddenly, there on a short two-hour plane flight home, I felt the start of a big beautiful anticipation of What Next, the stirring in my chest. I had no sense of overwhelm, which has been one of my preferred hang-out places during my younger and even recent life. Instead, in this place of anticipation, time seemed expansive, with possibilities tumbling over each other. In that moment on the plane, I felt eagerness to write, to see my clients, to love my husband, to plant some pansies and snapdragons, and definitely some more mint and basil.

It truly was as though a switch had flipped. I had been feeling fine before, heading home from one granddaughter’s college graduation and visiting with a precious 11-month-old granddaughter who is getting ready to walk for the first time—all beautiful to think about. I was sad to leave them and happy with the time we had, heading home with my husband to finish up holiday preparations with our family in town. And then with those few minutes of reading, finishing one book and starting another, I was suddenly feeling some grand feeling of What Next. How did that happen for me to feel all of this? Seeing so much opening up, not knowing what’s past the opening space, but not needing to know more than that it’s good? Good, good, good. Being in my life, taking steps as I see them. Allowing it to open up more, expanding it all in this new year. While that full feeling didn’t last in such strength, I do know that I felt it. I can revisit the experience and get a glimpse of it again. And then look forward to the next time, and the next.

So, with all of that in mind, I wish you a hopeful and expansive start to a new year… and just this once, I will borrow from Pat Conroy to say to you “Great love out there.” Great love.

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12 Responses

  1. Jean
    |

    And Great Love to you and your family, Dale. What delightful musings – keep up the tender, lovely words. And of course, may this coming year have the strength and good happenings to compensate for the one immediately past. It’s been quite a challenge! Thinking of you. . .

    • Dale Midgette Smith
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      Thank you, Jean, for the great love wishes and your on-going encouragement for my writing. Wishing you and your family the best as always…

  2. MK
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    Dale,
    You communicated that palpable feeling so beautifully – the expansiveness of What Next. I love hearing your voice in my head as I read your musings.
    Much love back to you,
    MK

    • Dale Midgette Smith
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      Ahhhh…here’s to the What Next, yes? Thank you, Mary.

  3. Diane
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    Great thoughts and great love – thank you, as always! xoxo

  4. Debbie
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    Great love back to you, Dale!!

  5. Julene Roberts
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    What a grand “AHA” and sweet pivot! Thank you for sharing your journey. It brings a smile to my face. Love, J

  6. John Carswell
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    Pat Conroy was a great person, not just a great writer. Read his MY READING LIFE to understand who had the most influence on his writing. Enjoy your thoughts, keep them coming.

    • Dale Midgette Smith
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      Thank you, John. MY READING LIFE is the next book waiting for me to read. I’ve been eager to see what Conroy has to say about that. He does mention some of the influences in LOWCOUNTRY HEART also. I appreciate your encouragement, too.