The hot, summer weather has added to an already blistering emotional malaise that continues to affect almost everyone I know. If it’s not falling real estate prices or the stock market decline or high unemployment statistics, our collective mercurial mood can easily be affected by subtle hiccups in the universe making a rough patch seem worse. I can personally vouch for this. Just the other day I was exasperated over the price of strawberries. Mind you, I bought a flat, but I found myself sighing aloud in the grocery aisle “Oh, man! Really? Come on!” Another shopper looked my way, nodding in resigned agreement.
Fruit isn’t the only thing bugging me. Facebook is on my nerves, too. Maybe it’s always been this way and my technological novice self just noticed, but now I have not one, but two categories of post updates to read that are labeled as “Top Posts” and “Most Recent.” Look, I’m lucky to find a few idle minutes in my week to indulge in mindless social networking. Now I have to navigate through an additional layer of news? How exactly are top posts chosen anyway? Are Mark Zuckerberg and his Palo Alto Facebookers grading individual posts to be considered for the coveted top post spot? Great. Now I have added pressure to come up with a status update that sounds clever and top post-ish. What if I don’t have time to scan both categories? Will I miss a critical vacation update from a friend or political ranting from someone I don’t know but“ Friended” anyway?
And don’t even get me started on my complicated DISH television service that prevents me from successfully performing the very simple function of turning on the darn TV. My teenage son talked me down from throwing the TV remote out the window which I thought was a perfectly rational response to the problem. He grabbed the remote, clicked on a few buttons with his teenage nubile whip-fast fingers, and wah-lah! Instant picture! Perfect. Now I feel old which pairs nicely with my fruit worries and Facebook frustration, making me one super happy gal.
Why even bother worrying about such insignificant stuff? Maybe because worrying about the little things helps me avoid worrying about the big ticket issues that are mostly beyond my control. Trite, I agree, but truthful. So, I decided to undergo an emotional detox, cleansing myself of my worry list and replacing it with a more productive effort. This isn’t Wayne Dyer talking, but I recently participated in a simple, yet rewarding experience as part of Amy’s the-sky-is falling-detox program.
What did I do? I went downtown. My family and I ate dinner at a restaurant that has been struggling to keep its doors open. After dinner, we sipped on iced coffee drinks at a local coffee shop that’s seen a downturn in customers. We window-shopped on “The Square” peeking in and dreaming a bit. We scanned the local artist hubs that are popping up as much as the popcorn at the Marion Theatre where we scanned the movie times with a promise to be back soon. I snapped a few pictures of Mike and the kids walking on the sidewalk. I can’t explain what made me venture downtown. I just went. Then, I remembered the words penned by my late father, Sherman Yeary, who wrote two books —“Main and Magnolia” and “The Courthouse Square” — about Ocala’s historic downtown scene during both the Great Depression and World War II. Dad wrote of a different time that feels strangely familiar:
“Standing on the corner of the Courthouse Square, I looked into faces filled with hope when there seemed to be precious little hope.’Hard times’ was what they called this. Prosperity was just around the corner. What corner? The heart and soul of man would not be defeated. Walking the Square on a Saturday afternoon were people who were not well off, but they held on to an indestructible belief that things had to get better. The enigma of it all, that when life was hard and harsh, there was still tenderness and compassion. Through it all there was a time of innocence, fellowship, conviction and optimism. And we felt it on the Square.”
I couldn’t have said it better. Thanks, Dad, for the reminder…and a very lovely evening on our beloved Square
