Then Again - Diane Keaton [44]
Days of the Week
Sunday the 2nd—BE HEALTHY
Monday the 3rd—GET THIN
Tuesday the 4th—SELL COLLINS ISLAND HOUSE
Wednesday the 5th—MOVE TO NEAT PLACE
Thursday the 6th—MAKE NEW FRIENDS
Friday the 7th—CULTIVATE OLD ONES
Saturday the 8th—TRAVEL
Sunday the 9th—MENTALLY GROW—EXPAND
Monday the 10th—TAKE MORE CARE WITH—
Tuesday the 11th—COOKING
Wednesday the 12th—BE LESS CONCERNED—
Thursday the 13th—WITH MYSELF
Friday the 14th—BE LIGHTER ABOUT THINGS
Saturday the 15th—LAUGH A LOT
Sunday the 16th—TALK MORE
Dorothy-isms
After the downhill slide, and living under the influence of Jack Hall’s “power of positive thinking,” Dorothy created her own catalog of cheerful bromides to combat depression. The itemized series of pep talks and wishful pick-me-ups had a function: to make her feel better. This year was going to be different. It was the year of Dorothy’s “Days of the Week” and “What I Am Thankful For.” Itemizing catchphrases as if they were wishes that would come true was like praying to a benevolent God who encouraged repetition as a means to an end—a cheerful one. Mother organized information and kept track of changes by classifying her adages chronologically or grouping them by theme. She did not resort to the unsorted or miscellaneous. All homilies worthy of inclusion were gathered together with some criteria in mind.
She did not pass on her Pollyanna-isms, or make reference to her Mount Whitney of words, to anyone. I suspect she shielded us from her “healing business” because somewhere deep down she knew her remedies were best left unexamined. For example, once having written “I am enriching my environment in every way I know,” Mother avoided analyzing it. Why would she? She was smart. She knew she was a harsh critic. She knew she would have been disappointed in the results. Mother’s list of platitudes rose higher and higher, all the way to the top of the biggest list of all, the “Forgotten List.” Once she forgot an idea, Mother was free to rediscover it as if it was forever and always the first “I-am-ism” on the first day of the first week of the first month of the year 1975.
Bogged down by the same dilemmas, Mom and I shared a fear of failure, a concern for what others think, demeaning comparisons, and low self-esteem. In a way, Dorothy’s bromides were a healthier version of my throwing up. After she “did her business,” her system was purged and, like me, she felt better until she needed a new resolution to help cope with getting through yet another day. As a little girl, Mom put two and two together after she saw her friend Jean Cutler write “I will not put gum under my desk” on the blackboard one hundred times. Dorothy saved her one hundred “I will have more self-confidence”s for when she needed it the most—later, much later.
Itemizing what she accomplished or, “doggone it,” how she was going to appreciate herself for once did help her weather the storm. I just wonder