Tom Hanks Letter: The shoots and ladders of happiness

We create routines for ourselves so we can fit in work, play, errands.

We work on our mood underneath our skin.

It is both a stormy sea and a morning meadow.

Tricky business. Life.

Often this depends on the intakes of caffeine, media, sugar, exercise, and how much sleep we got the night before.

For me, from the moment I drop my kid at school, I feel a race coming on. Gotta fit it all in. Go go go go goooooo. It's more stormy sea than morning meadow.

I sit at my computer until the knot in my back burns. Then I sit for an hour longer.

Because... RACING. 

In recent times, I was working on this fine book, which helps turn a mood from stormy sea to morning meadow. It is now available to buy on Amazon. Fun!

At other times during my daily creative process, I'm slogging through a bunch of half baked ideas until I come up with a winner like Spiritual Retreat from Home. I'm currently running through a few projects and I wonder if it will all work out.

You'd think Miss Best Seller Yadda Yadda would make hit after hit, but it is more stormy seas around here than morning meadows most of the time.

So I race to get as much done as humanly possible. Then I put on the kettle, set my alarm, and nap. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don't. Alarm goes off. I hop out of bed, make a tea and race out the door to fetch this shy hand model:

On the way, I stop by the mailbox so I can read my mail and drink my tea in the parking lot of the school.

It's the little things.

And that's where Tom Hanks comes in.

A few typewriter letters ago, I sent a letter to Harley about a weird prom night in Barstow. If you've ever been to Barstow, chances are you had a weird night as well. Barstow can't help itself. It's weird. It was one of the better letters. Harley sent the letter to his pal Tom Hanks who replied back with this:

Obviously needs a new ribbon, but the important bit is this:

"Janice must write with her eyes. I saw what she saw in Barstow."

Thrilled. Then Harley sent Tom's note to me because typewriter people love sending letters in the mail so it takes longer and is therefore more delicious upon arrival.

Tea sipping, kid arriving, thrill seeping through my veins.

MORNING MEADOW MOOD.

Strapped ourselves back into the car, drove out of the parking lot and at the light I was back to STORMY SEAS.

Two minutes of Tom Hanks thrill, and then I'm back to the baseline that has been stormy seas. It's hard to feel the fun feelings. A mix of lockdown, war, germs, endurance. All of it.

So the next weekend I made myself go to an antique show featuring a typewriter exhibit. Some of us love nerding out on typewriters. LOVE LOVE LOVE. Met this guy:

Martin Howard was featured in the documentary California Typewriters. He collects the very VERY old typewriters. He had a table of excellent machines. People were buzzing around clicking away. Children seemed most taken with the typewriters. One older woman sat down and typed at lightning speed. "I used to type 100 words a minute!" she said. Impressed. She used all the fingers correctly.

On a computer keyboard I can type fast, but on a typewriter.... ohhhhhhhh soooo sloooooowwwww. Two fingers. Loads of typos.

Typing is FUN and AN EVENT on a typewriter. On a computer keyboard, it's just work.

Meeting Martin Howard got me back in the MORNING MEADOWS MOOD for a bit of time. Now I'm seeing storms on the horizon again.

As someone who has battled depression in her life, I have made it a practice to pay attention to the shoots and ladders of my moods. It is a big effort to even remember to do fun things. But I'm telling you this now because I think there are a few of you out there in the same situation. I'm in it, too. We are trying to remember how to have fun. Trying to remember TO have fun.

Let me know how it's going.