Today was a special day in South Minneapolis–  the May Day Parade, an annual tradition for 39 years.  The parade is a favorite— put on by the Heart of the Beast Puppet Theatre, it’s created by talented artists there working with members of the community who want to be a part of the parade.  For months ahead of time, people come together to build puppets and costumes out of cardboard, paper mache, cloth and other  “junk,” working together on a theme—telling a story of despair, hope and renewal and weaving in social, economic and environmental issues.  The result is a festival of color and imagination, playful and joyful.  I always feel good about myself and my community when I watch the May Day Parade.

Even when I go alone.  Which I did this year.

Me at the parade (took it myself!)

It’s really no big deal, but it wasn’t always easy for me, the idea of going certain places ALONE.  I remember growing up that going to the movies alone seemed to be taboo. I loved going to movies, and when I moved away to Colorado for a year and lived alone, I found a discount theatre nearby and decided to break that taboo.  At first I looked around cautiously, but nobody in the crowd noticed or cared.  An older relative had told me she’d never go to a movie alone, that it was too lonely and awkward.  That wasn’t my experience at all… I loved being part of the crowd, and getting lost in the story.

Still, some events or activities DO seem harder to attend alone.  In fact, this parade was one of them for me, once upon a time.  When our kids were growing up, we always attended the May Day Parade as a family… and it was fun to see the delight and amazement on their little faces.  Then the kids turned into teenagers, no longer thrilled by a parade.  My husband was working full-time and trying to finish his college degree, so he was busy all the time.  One year I managed to cajole a kid or two to come to the parade with me (I still wanted to go!), but they weren’t thrilled.  It wasn’t their thing anymore.

Then came the year NOBODY wanted to go.  I’m not proud to say I remember throwing a little tantrum–  why couldn’t my family want the same thing I did?  I didn’t want the bother of trying to call around and find a friend.  I felt frustrated and angry.  I hated being in this position:  I had to decide to stay home, or go alone.

Little girl giving High-Fives

You know, I found myself thinking like my relative—worried that I’d feel lonely and awkward and conspicuous, going to this parade by myself.  But going always lifted my spirits, so I decided to do it. And it turned out fine.  The parade was still fun to watch, and I found that I’m pretty good company on my own.

So I’m challenging myself on thinking outside the comfortable zone, an imaginary box I’ve drawn around events and my expectations about them.  Another challenge I’d like to work on is taking the time (and getting past the fear) of inviting others along—that’s a whole ‘nother topic!  But for now I can bask in the enjoyment and memories of a fine, sunny and warm May day.

In Minnesota, we are having a never-ending winter this year.  It’s May 3 and has been snowing off-and-on today… thankfully it’s not sticking, but definitely cold and dreary.  We had a taste of the 70s last week, several days of no coats and everyone rushing to be outside, but not this week.  We are used to getting some spring-y, balmy days by April, so there are a lot of crabby and complaining folks out there.  Radio stations playing Christmas music to make a point!  We want our daffodils and sunshine, and we want them now!

As we wait for green, we did have a little excitement on our block this week (think Nerdy Environmental Excitement…).  We finally got one of these:

Yes, the neighborhood forums were all excited because we got our new One-Sort Recycling bins! (Hey, we know how to have fun!).  Previously, we had squat rectangular bins that we had to sort our recycling into– separate brown paper grocery bags with plastics, glass, metals, newspapers, office papers and flattened cardboard.  With the new bin, we just toss everything in, willy-nilly, and the city collects and sorts the recycling.

Now, sorting our own recycling wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a chore  I don’t mind giving up.  Apparently, the city will create more jobs with this new method, and it will increase the amount of recycling that gets done.  How nice to have a win-win situation.

In case you havn’t guessed, I’m one of those green nerdy types.  I’m currently re-reading a favorite book:

This book chronicles author Colin Beavan’s year of trying to make as little impact on the environment as he could, which he did in 2007 along with his wife and 2-year old daughter.  They did this in several stages, increasing in difficulty as they went.  They attempted to eat locally (food grown within 250 miles of their New York City apartment), make no trash, use no carbon-based forms of transportation (no elevators, cars, subways, planes or trains, which meant walking and biking), throw out their TV, buy nothing new, and even use no electricity for part of the year– a tricky feat in the heart of the city!  The book covers the trials and tribulations of that year, and most importantly, attempts to explore the question:  does the way we are living now as Americans actually make us happier?  And if the answer is no, then what would make us happier?  How would we live if that was our goal?

I discovered Colin Beavan back in 2007, when he was living that year and blogging about it.  While I’m not an extremist, a lot of what he talks about appeals to me.  I don’t like the way our country uses so many resources, I’m afraid about the future, I worry about our health as humans on this planet.  I’m willing to explore and make changes.  I appreciate that he did this project and explored these issues… the more we learn and question and become aware, the better things will get.  So I believe.

An entertaining documentary was made about the Beavan family during their year– No Impact Man.  A fun watch, currently on Netflix.

A lot of people still poo-poo the idea of making any of these kinds of changes.  Global warming is still a concept that some choose to deny (“snowing in May… that’s not global WARMING, right?”).  But I like Beavan’s underlying question– if living this high-consumer lifestyle isn’t actually making us happy, then what would?  It’s a question worth exploring.

I can hardly believe the winter holidays are here again… every year, Christmas seems to come faster, and I can’t help grumbling under my Scroogey hat, “didn’t we just do this?”

It doesn’t help that every year, the holidays bring me face to face with my messy, disorganized self, and I always feel I’m about 20 steps behind everyone else, rushing and running, trying to catch up.  This Fall has been particularly stressful for me, with kid and family issues that were my priority, and so I started shopping late, haven’t done any baking (I have bought nice cookies as a back up in case I don’t manage to do any).  DH and I have had many years where we don’t start wrapping until the kids are in bed on Christmas Eve… I do not recommend this!  Compounding  all my holiday stress this year is that we’re having two small gatherings of friends at our home in the next week… and the house is a mess.  So I’ve been making my to-do lists and asking the family to help, but it’s all a bit overwhelming.

It also doesn’t help that I have dreams and yearnings–  of having a peaceful, relaxed Christmas, but also a picture-perfect holiday with all the beautiful decorations and special foods and that whole aura of perfection.  And I keep running and running, trying to catch up, never quite getting there, and–

Oh yeah.  If I’m lucky, I then remember I poem I wrote several years ago, about this very thing.  Words from a wiser part of myself that I need to hear again.  I share it with you now (an myself again!) in the hopes it might have some wisdom for you too.  Have a wonderful holiday and New Year, dear readers!

House Beautiful

I expected Martha Stewart or House Beautiful
when we arrived for the holiday piano recital,
home of a student’s family.
I imagined Victorian elegance:
gleaming dark wood, evergreen swags
draping stair banister, plush
rugs, and everything just so.

We knocked and were welcomed into
Regular Life:
small home, bustling with crowd,
old-fashioned kitchen,
plain wood paneled living-
room, two simple poinsettias
smiling on the piano.
Nothing was perfect, nothing
just so as
we sat in cramped miscellaneous
chairs behind the piano,
listening to our children
perform. Later, cookies and bars
in the kitchen, sipping hot
Swedish glogg while
kids raced and played.
I relaxed, laughing,
warming from a deep freeze.

I met neighbors who’d come by
to help the host,
heard about their closeness,
neighbors who visited and shared
on this city street.
I felt the love in that place,
pined for that kind of life,
marveled at how I’d been fooled
into thinking Martha Stewart
or House Beautiful was something
Real, something
I should even
want.

–Theresa Jarosz Alberti