Choose Mary, not Rhoda

That would be Mary Tyler Moore, or really "Mary Richards" from the eponymous show, of course. A book was published about the show this spring, and the author made the rounds of the NPR shows I listen to. So I haven't read the book, but the interviews made me think about it.  During my post college years, my room-mate and I often watched the show together, enjoying seeing women pictured on a sitcom who were more like we were than any other show on TV. But we were both Rhoda, not Mary, wanting to be darkly funny and knowing, laughing at Mary's sunny and bright naivete.

I've gone through life identifying as Rhoda, the sarcastic, wise cracking, sidekick. I have always mentally used adjectives like sardonic and cynical to describe myself, and thought of myself as the outsider. I was the family photographer, standing at the sidelines with the camera, not an actual participant. I liked that.

But as I struggled through some very stressful and unhappy times this spring and summer, I wondered if its possible to consciously change. I am forced by circumstance to participate more actively in life. Can I move myself so that I can turn the world on with a smile, suddenly take a nothing day and make it seem worthwhile? Make people happy to see me, by bringing happiness into the room?

Is the way we relate to the world inherent or under our conscious control?

All the reading I've done on resilience and happiness and depression and cognitive behavior therapy - and physical survival and adventure - says yes, we control this. The big lesson from the adventure / survival literature (of which I've read a bunch - lost at sea features heavily) notes that you cannot control what happens to you, but you can control how you respond to it.  I've taken some profound thoughts and turned them into pop culture images in my mind of how to meet the world, with some small amount of success.

My first clue came from the clear realization that while humor may work with teenagers better than confrontation, sarcasm directed at them will simply outrage them. So I cut out the wise cracks, and tried to substitute more sympathy and empathy, directing my humor at the situation and the world in general, not them. Well, duh. Who wouldn't rather have that response?

Now I'm trying to act on these pop culture images in a physical way. When I walk, I think of Mary Richards, striding along with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face, joyfully anticipating whatever the world will bring her next. ("... with each glance and every little movement you show it...")  It helps me, it really does. Even thought it's embarrassing to admit it.  (This is far from all I am doing to cope with multiple issues, but it's one I can write about now.)

So I'm back, sort of. Today, with the humidity low, the sun out, and all the windows open, seems like a day anything is possible. What happened to my weight during the last couple of months since I've been gone from this space?  Amazingly enough, nothing. I weigh now more or less what I have weighed for the past couple of years, which I have to keep reminding myself is quite a bit lower than I weighed for many years, while not as low as I would like to be.  I seem to have changed some habits enough to sustain me through periods of less paying attention.

Excelsior.