Highs and Lows
I found a journal I had written at thirteen and it included a list of my likes and dislikes.
Reading during a snowstorm, in front of a fire.
Snacks, steak, steamers, skating, and sledding.
I assume it is a coincidence that my top “likes” begin with “S?” I enjoy all of those activities today, except rarely treat myself unless the snowstorm falls on a Sunday, or I am celebrating with a surf-n-turf dinner out.
Slushy snow, changing my brother’s diapers and wearing hats in winter top my dislike list. Hats do keep you much warmer, my mature self understands. Thankfully, my brother has also grown-up. I am happy to have this sweet snapshot into my thirteen-year-old mind.
At the beginning of the pandemic, we ate together every night. That joy wore off eventually. Tyler went to college, Mason had activities, and we began to eat solo; juggling virtual schedules.
In December, the band was back together again. We chatted away, sharing what we had missed since the last visit. Winter break was longer than usual and we got back into our routine of juggling and did not always eat together. On one rare occasion when we were breaking bread at the same time, I suggested we share our “highs and lows.”
When the boys were little, this was a great way for us to encourage small moments, and get a peek into their thoughts. What did they consider a low? What brought them joy? What did they have the courage to bring up? When we vacationed with my family, we would ask the group to share their highs and lows at the larger dinner table. The activity bridged the age gap and gave the group a new connection.
I love that our sons happily fall back into this routine without missing a beat. We learn about a struggle with a grade, frustration over a work issue, a connection with a teacher or coach. Sharing doesn’t come easy in our house, so any crumbs I can gather are appreciated.
We are all tired and grumpy from the endless Pandemic, and this season is cold and dark. I feel like a character on The Little House on the Prairie, preparing food and trying to get my chores done before sunset. I spend an hour making dinner, only to boomerang right back into the kitchen to clean-up. We can talk ourselves into a circle of complaints and there are more lows than highs.
By bringing back the dinner game of “highs and lows,” we learn what is making each person smile. It shapes the following day. If Todd’s high was hearing that Mason took Simba on a walk, Mason might be motivated to repeat the performance. If Tyler’s low was struggling over a paper he was writing, we might ask him to read it aloud. When my high is getting take-out delivered; you can see the pattern here.
Taking a moment to share what makes you smile is not easy. If you read, watch or listen to something that lights you up, pass it along. Someone else might realize that they can duplicate it for their own pleasure.
“You bought yourself tulips instead of waiting for someone else to give them to you?” Bravo!
“You read your book in the afternoon?” I can do that!
Playing in the snow instead of tackling laundry! That is allowed?
I have never heard of anyone complaining that they are tired from too much joy, or sick of smiling. This month, put yourself first and create more bursts of joy to power your day
