As you read this, I am on a train traveling west to Everett. We’re on Amtrak, rather than in the sky, not because I’m afraid to fly to Spokane and back, but because I was afraid of the impatient behavior of my 3-year-old during a long wait to get through airport security.
I am on a train not because I’m afraid of terrorists with bombs in their shoes, but because I don’t want to spin my car into a snowy ditch on Stevens Pass.
The new normal, for those of us spared the direct horrors of Sept. 11, is much like the old normal, with some added hassles.
So sorry. I don’t mean to spoil your New Year’s morning. It’s bad enough to have to witness it all again, through the many "year in pictures" tributes to events of 2001.
This was meant to be a column about — what else? — resolutions.
I make the regular ones every year, the ones that don’t much matter when all is said and done:
Lose 10 pounds.
Get organized.
Save more money.
Get to work on time.
The new year always turns into just another year, and I soon find I’m better off being myself, a sturdy, messy, little bit late person who’s doing the best she can to raise three kids, make a living and have a few minutes left at the end of the day for my own pursuits.
Anyway, on Christmas Eve I was up late wrapping stocking-stuffer gifts. The house was quiet, but I had the TV on to hear Christmas carols.
At exactly midnight, a commercial came on that showed a bunch of idealized scenes of regular people doing regular things — I can’t even remember what things, but on the order of swinging in the park, blowing out birthday candles, being with family and traveling.
A voice came on and said, "The most important thing we can do is simply live."
The commercial was sponsored by something called the Live Brave Coalition and bore the logo of the Ad Council, which has created such memorable public service messages as "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires" and "Friends Don’t Let Friends Drive Drunk."
In a holiday week, I wasn’t able to find out much about the Live Brave Coalition, except that it was founded by a Motorola executive in Illinois and is linked to the company’s push for security technologies in the wake of Sept. 11.
The Ad Council’s New York offices were closed until after the holidays, so I didn’t learn more about the Motorola bigwig’s message or what the exact aim of the Live Brave commercial might be.
You know what, though?
I probably don’t need to find out more, not for my purposes.
As grammatically incorrect as it is — we should live bravely, not Live Brave — I’d sooner adopt the slogan as my New Year’s resolution this year than any of the shallow goals I’ve listed in the past.
"Live Brave." Isn’t that what we all try to do, every day, even days when we skip our appointment at the gym?
What’s 10 pounds, when our way of life is at stake?
This year, although I can never escape the impulse to clean up the house and do more sit-ups, I resolve instead to "live brave."
For some, that might mean buying a car on zero-percent financing. In this economy, you’re brave if you buy anything.
For me, to live bravely means to do what I’m doing.
I stole that — "do what you’re doing" — from some Zen book I read a long ago. It stuck. If you really do what you’re doing, you won’t have time or room in your life to worry about bad guys with bombs in their shoes.
So that’s what I’m going to do in 2002. Do what I’m doing. Live brave. Go on vacation. Pay my taxes. Keep a flag on my porch.
I’m going to teach my older son to drive. I’m going to watch my younger son turn 4. And — don’t tell the Live Brave Coalition — I’m going to lose those 10 pounds before my 30-year high school reunion in July.
Going to that, now there’s bravery.
Contact Julie Muhlstein via e-mail at muhlsteinjulie@heraldnet.com, write to her at The Herald, P.O. Box 930, Everett, WA 98206, or call 425-339-3460.
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