Whenever Uncle Gene, Judy and I were out in public together, he would make up fantastic short bios of passersby, based on their appearance and his imagination. We could never know if any of the data were true, but we laughed about the plausibility and picked up the habit.
Whenever Uncle Gene saw a feat of architectural or natural wonder, he would deadpan, “wasn’t easy” as though he had been in charge of design and construction. We laughed more.
Chad and Mom rediscovered each other after 70 years. Each had been married for 56 of those years and were now in their 80s, getting married. They laughed with each other incessantly, and reveled in the chance to tell their unlikely story of romance to whomever would listen. The listener always went away happier.
Sonny’s round face broke into a smile effortlessly. You could wonder if he was ever not smiling. I think his nickname was spelled with an “o” as the second letter, but if it was with a “u,” it was descriptive. He was generous in fact and in spirit.
Aunt Jane (no relation to Uncle Gene; the Whites were serial adopters of aunties and uncles well before we got to Hawaii where everybody is an auntie or uncle) would read the newspaper daily searching for stories of men or women she felt needed a word of encouragement, and she would write the person a letter. Many times, the recipient responded months or even years later with gratitude, noting that her kind words were among the few expressions of support he or she had received.
The muse of my writing about Aging, Jo, was always ready with a story, told with a puckish twinkle in her eye, from her long and interesting life, the point of which was to cheer the listener. She was so good at that, I never realized that, at the same time, she was nursing her husband through his terminal struggle with cancer.
These are the people about whom Albert Schweitzer wrote: “In everybody’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flames by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”
The folks above all were People of a Certain Age and even older. I am not alone, I suspect, in holding in high esteem people who have lived seven, eight, or nine decades and maintained a positive outlook on life.
But younger people can be rekindlers, too. I can right away think of three teenagers I see with some regularly who project an attitude of joy and demonstrate extraordinary responsibility and interest in being helpful. One cannot be with any of these kids without thinking that the future of the world and our country might not be as bleak as the daily headlines make it seem.
I think my examples of rekindlers might have needed an occasional freshening of their fires, too. Here’s where I might part company with Dr. Schweitzer, as bold as that might seem.
Implied in the quote is the assertion that there are certain people with the capacity. I think most everyone has the capacity. It is a matter of attitude and effort. And, if the term “rekindling” is correct, then there needs to be an amber to enflame.
Dr. Schweitzer is right about people sometimes losing the inner fire. Moods change, temperaments can be affect by circumstance, sorrow and grief are seemingly inevitable companions at some points in life. But, the ember of hope is there to be stoked.
You and I could be stokers—rekindlers—if we try. Winnie-the-Pooh is instructive here. Eeyore, the donkey, always looks on the depressing side of things. If you spend all of your time in the company of Eeyores, you might become like them. It is hard to see an ember of optimism in Eeyore.
Winnie-the-Pooh is congenitally optimistic, often recklessly so. But in his innocence and silliness (silly old bear, say Christopher Robin), there is a joy about living, the excitement of trying, and an appreciation of his friends who help him get out of scrapes.
Spend time with the Winnies around you.
One of many traits common to my rekindlers above is the gift of laughter. And smiles. Especially smiles. Smiles are so disarming.
Something else. The act of reaching out to rekindle is rekindling in itself. It is cheap therapy. Next time you feel like your inner fire is floundering, try rekindling another.
Daniel E. White
August 7, 2015