y1 is largely about finding joy in one’s life, and over the years I’ve learned that little harmless rituals can go a long way towards adding an extra pinch of happiness. One of my favorites stems from the only class I ever took in writing poetry. The class gave me two things. 1. It firmly established that I am not a poet. 2. It gave me Oct. 10.
Rather, it gave me a poem called “Oct. 10” about the bright blue sky of autumn and the importance of wrapping that sky close around you and holding it tight against a white winter day. For whatever reason, of all the bad poetry I wrote only that phrase stuck with me and from it I created my own personal holiday. Every year, on or around Oct 10, wherever I have lived, there has always been one of those gorgeous cool clear autumn days. I’d call in sick. I’d ignore household chores. It was a day off, a celebration of all things beautiful, and every year I found a way to take at least part of the day and make it mine.
Until this year. October has been hot and muggy. Rainy. Overcast. Work has been busier than usual, minor chores overwhelming. I kept waiting expectantly for my day, while my mood declined into irritation and finally into disappointment. It wasn’t going to happen. Then this past week-end, Oct. 28 became Oct. 10 and I spent the day on my front porch staring at a deep blue sky. Holidays are great. Holidays you make up yourself are even better!