Goals from the Heart

We were there,
the top of the Empire State Bldg.

Sometimes I have to look back to see where I want to go or what I want to do.  Setting a goal for the New Year involves the same steps.  Looking back at 2015 and the decades before, I find my need for friendship and relationships with others tops my lists. For the last week in December the morning shows share ideas on how to set goals and keep them.  The lists often seem the same--lose 10 pounds; travel; exercise; eat healthy; give up sugar; organize the closets, and more.  These I label as paper goals, certainly achievable with willpower and a plan. When I'm faced with these issues, I find books like Willpower  by John Tiernay very helpful. 

These days I'm looking inward, searching  for a goal that resides in my heart, and resonates in my core.  Last year I wrote a simple mantra, as a goal, and posted it to my calendar. Every two weeks these words pop up:  See the Beauty and Grace in Everyone, rather than being judgmental. Believe it or not this simple mantra lifted my heart and brought a smile to my face each time I read it.  It also achieved the goal of tempering my words.  I'm still harsh, and blunt from time to time, but I hope that every year I'm less harsh and show more grace. So I thought, if something that simple lifts my spirits why not dig deeper and discover other beauties of the heart. 

After many hours of reading and reflecting I recalled a phone conversation several years ago from my friend

Manon Bradbury and Letty in the desert.

Manon.  Lamenting that her girls were constantly texting and chatting without ever listening or hearing the voice of their friends, she said, "I much prefer to hear from my friends by phone!"  She's right.  I thoroughly enjoy our few conversations during the year because I get to hear her French Canadian accent and the zeal with which she lives and breathes.  I can't hear that in a text. 

With a zig and a zag, my mind flashed back to that November three years ago when I began calling classmates I had not seen in nearly 50 years.  What joy to hear

Lynn Farrier, Letty  MHS Class of 65

their voices and stories.  Thanks to those phone calls I've personally reconnected with my childhood friends. Now I know their spouses and a few glimpses at how they've lived over these decades. 

This year my goal is simple but sincere.  Pick up the phone and call a friend once a week. A phone call connects us to the heart of the person, much like using a puppet to communicate. My joy of being a puppeteer came

from observing the eyes and hearts of the children as they gazed in wonder and belief at "Book Dog", "Squirty", or

Book Dog

"Frisky".  Every now and then a child would say, "That puppet's not real.  You have your hand inside of it!"  I smiled and responded gently,  "Sometimes we all need a little help. This puppet is no different than I am because it speaks and listens with its heart."

So this year, I will use the arm of a puppeteer and call someone weekly. Yes, I will continue to text and email, and oh, how thankful I am that we can use technology for staying connected. My Facebook friends know I love to chat online, and my Instagram followers see that I like photographs that offer a moment to ponder.  I will continue to send postcards from afar, because I know from experience that they remind us that someone is thinking about us.  

What will you do?

What goal from your heart could make a difference in your life or someone around you?

How will you act on this goal?

Miami Memories: A Lasting Imprint

I'm one of the few 6%, and I have Mrs. Louise Watson, Shari Lewis, and Minnie Pearl to thank for that.  Not long ago The Today show discussed career choices people have made.  In a study in the Journal of Social Forces, just 6% of adults have ended up in the careers they had aspired to when they were kids. Then I considered mine, and what about my friends or classmates.  Did any of us even think about careers back then?  If we did was it a dream, a goal, a vision of the future, or was there someone we wanted to be?  

For as long as I can remember I really just wanted to be a mother, secretly a comedian, but LuJean Howard was already our class clown, so that job was taken.   I loved performing tricks at my parent's parties, and telling stories to the neighborhood kids, but Hollywood never beckoned me.  If I were going to go to college then of course, I would be a teacher, but sometimes I dreamed of becoming a race car driver or a world traveler who published stories about exotic places to visit.    By high school, I knew after reading On the Beach that I'd become an English teacher, move to Australia, then naturally, I'd make a difference in the lives of hundreds of people and change the world along the way, if we lived that long. 

Along the way life opened and closed several other doors before I found my calling and career.  By age 19 I was already a substitute teacher, then I worked with Head Start after Katy was born, but my lucky break came when the Miami Public Library needed a children's librarian.  Suddenly, I had the best job in the world, and it blossomed to be one of the best choices of my life.  The Saturday morning and afternoon story hours were empty because there was a new yellow big bird on television that had garnered every ones attention.  To be honest I was nervous about telling stories to children, so when no one arrived I felt relieved, but then it became a challenge.  How to fill the library with children at all hours of the day.  I began to reflect on my recent childhood and recalled how much I loved Minnie Pearl, Shari Lewis, and so many entertainers I'd see on the Ed Sullivan Show.  

One day I found an old puppet in a closet and brought it to life when the puppet found the warmth of my hand and saw the smile on my face.  I imagined I was Shari Lewis talking to Lamb Chops.  I then taught myself how to make puppets, so children coming to story hour would have puppets to use. 

Serendipitously, a class on storytelling was being offered and I thought, "how perfect and so easy."  I was so wrong.  I worked day and night for three weeks to learn one story that only lasted about eight minutes!  In the end, I was hooked, and I spent the rest of my life pursuing stories to tell for children and adults.  How lucky can one person be. I did my best to reflect on the smile and

enthusiasm of Minnie Pearl.  Her voice still echos in my mind, "How Deeee folks. I'm jist so proud to be here."  Her smiling face convinced me that she meant every word she spoke. Her jokes and funny stories made us all laugh, and I loved to hear my parents laughing while watching her.


The hardest lesson came when I realized that I'd never make a living as a librarian without a college degree.  Being a single parent made the choice easy, stay near family and finish my education.  Now raising a little girl,  I wanted to become an elementary teacher or librarian.

It was the quiet sincere librarian, Mrs. Watson, who had left the greatest imprint on my life by sincerely believing that books and reading could make a difference in our lives.  At Central Jr. High we had a 3rd floor study hall with a tiny room filled with books.  A few hours a day Mrs. Watson worked up there while her remaining time was in the real high school.  I loved to be in that hushed room and smell the paper and books.  Even when those ratty old boys became

obnoxious in study hall, little Mrs. Watson could quiet them down. High school was no different, a large study hall room and small dimly lit library, but again her smile and passion for reading set me at ease.  She handed me a thick historical romance and suggested I read it cover to cover. When I finished that book I felt empty on the inside, like I'd lost a friend or a family. It was about a woman who was to marry Napoleon, but fate changed her life. Perhaps, the pulse and heartbeat of love on the pages of a book changed my fate, too.

Mrs. Watson had me hooked for life, and now more than 50 years later and a career as a librarian and teacher, I still smile deeply inside hoping I made a difference in at least one person's life.  
  
Letty Stapp Watt, storyteller and historian