Howya doin'?

Howya doin'? Sometimes it's just proforma, issued with a casual nod and smile when passing by. It's mere courtesy, acknowledging the others presence. No conversation required.

Nowadays -- nearly four years after my wife's death -- I try to hear howya doin'? as just such a friendly greeting. I shoot my finest smile and energetically respond with something like "Fine!" If the friend pauses signifying interest, I might add "How 'boutchu?" or "Whatcha been up to?" I get an extended response to that, and I know a newsy and interesting conversation may take place.

Interested and interesting exchanges are the basis of any good friendship. Strange fact: when we're truly interested, we sometimes find out as much about ourselves as we do about the friends we engage in interesting exchanges -- especially when we permit the exchanges to be unguarded. Sometimes we only realize we're doin' well when we discover the answer in the words we share with friends. So we need to pay attention. Otherwise we risk telling hapless people more than they really wanna know.

Of course, on some significant level, paying attention is the hallmark of all warm relationships. Even in a setting so formal as a classroom, paying attention is essential. What are students really trying to express? What confuses them about a topic under discussion? What do they know and how do they feel about things under discussion? How confident are they, how well prepared? How interested are they? How effective is the teacher in cultivating and sustaining interest? Classroom leadership demands that teachers constantly probe students, seeking answers for such questions. This is what I mean by paying attention.

Paying attention is even more important in a love relationship. Honeymoon over? If it is, it's prob'ly our own fault?! We callously suppose we've learned everything there is to know about some new (or old) friend. We're no longer interested, no longer find the person interesting. Strikes me as strange, because for nearly four decades I never lost interest in my wife. She was a whole, ever-new-world worth exploring. Plus she was always growing. She was clever and bright, a creative thinker, always interested in some new thing or new set of thoughts. I never tired of learning about her. She fascinated me. And not only because she was so striking in appearance. She was a beautiful person, a beautiful mind. She held my attention. She was challenging. I had to constantly live up to her.

My wife and I were always curious about each other. I think that fact made each of us more curious about ourselves, too. All of which brings me finally to what I want to talk about, to think out-loud about -- because I'm not certain exactly what I know and feel about the topic. Or exactly how to shape it.


Lately, no matter how I may respond to the friendly greeting Howya doin', the question leaves me wondering: How AM I doin'?

Lotsa changes in my life these days. The death of my wife has left me somewhat solitary. Retirement has required a whole host of changes, too. Loss of work requires major adjustments: new interests, new daily schedules, new responsibilities to fashion new work habits. Plus I'm aging -- which often leads to changes in body-mind functions. As Alice once said: "Curiouser and curiouser!" Lotsa questions about my unfolding new-old self.

I have to remain INTERESTED and ENGAGED in all these questions. I have to find creative answers. Otherwise I have no hope of avoiding decline. I'm determined not to die just yet. The challenge is to keep growing.

So! I have to develop some useful measurement scale I can apply to myself each day. For instance: how well did my yoga go this morning? How did my weight workout go? How's my energy level? Did my reading cycle go well this week? Caught-up on email? Am I on track to complete three postings this week -- am I satisfied with the quality of the writing? How can I improve? In general, I'm curious about what I'm learning about myself as the weeks unfold.

All these questions -- and many more like them -- are what I get for having read Ben Franklin's autobiography as a (much-too-impressionable) youngster! I can't blame Ben entirely. I've always been inclined to confront life as if it were an obstacle course, measuring my daily performance with a microscope and stop-watch.

Anyway: I recently spent a long weekend with my older daughter and her family. She always wants to discover evidence I'm happy, content, or satisfied. I'd tell her if I really knew. Trouble is, I'm not always sure. I want to think out loud about these terms and see where that might lead me.

First, am I happy? Define the term: I suppose happy implies a degree of excitement and delight about

sustained and growing relationships with family
and remaining good friends,
ongoing and up-coming activities,
daily work and creative projects,
household maintenance,
yard and gardening chores,
apparent physical and mental health,

and stuff like that. Seems to me that excitement, or at least keen interest and delight are important factors in happiness.

SO! How'm I doing? On a ten-scale, I give myself a seven-plus. I've developed a reasonable calendar of visits to family -- most of whom reside some distance out-of-state. I'm careful to eat a reasonably broad and healthy diet. Weekly, I eat long-lunches with my one or two remaining friends. This summer season is loaded with community activities, and my calendar's full. I'm not apt to get bored. I'm a good housekeeper-yard-and-garden guy. I make an effort to keep this place beautiful. Lotta work for one pair of hands. I maintain a vigorous yoga, work-out, walking routine. I'm a month or so beyond my scheduled yearly physical. But it's on the calendar next month. I see my counselor once a month, and she appears to be holding onto her sanity. (Not easy for her!)

I'm disciplined. I care about staying healthy. I've made steady progress toward an improving outlook since Nancy's death. Zero-minus to Seven-plus in the past four years is not bad. Things could keep getting better. Finding a good-woman friend would help. But at my age, most good women are either dead or firmly attached. Over the past 18 months, women I find attractive have taught me a better option for me is to continue learning to fend for myself. I'm seven-happy so far.

What about content? For me, the word has negative connotations. I think of content as

fat and lazy,
snoozing through my days
without measurable goals,
drifting aimlessly,
undisciplined.

Bless his heart, Gatsby-kitty is content. He should be. That's okay for him. I'm responsible for his care and well-being. He's good company, quiet and responsive. Petting and grooming him soothes us both. Being good to him is several steps above a household or garden chore well accomplished. He's a companionable spirit. And he has no real responsibilities beyond hitting his litter-box accurately and making himself available for purr-producing rubs and brushing. When he's content, I know I'm fulfilling my responsibilities to him. He's mostly lazy, but at times he's also delightfully vigorous. Give him one of his play-toys or some catnip, and he'll bounce around like a kitten.

Right now he's snoozing an arm's length away, over on my desk calendar -- sunk together all small, looking like a tiny sphinx. Content and lazy's okay for Gatsby. Not for me. Right now I'm trying to shape this posting. . . which for me is hard work I enjoy. I'm not the least bit content, and I don't wanna be. I keep telling myself I prefer vigorous and challenging work. (For awhile yet, anyway!)

Satisfied is more difficult to define. Like content, satisfied has troublesome (slightly) negative connotations. Plus there are several levels of satisfaction, and all my life I've felt driven to grow beyond merely satisfied. I've wanted to feel increasingly accomplished, perhaps even proud. . .or at least I wanted to behave in ways that made my wife and family proud of me. I don't mean I wanted to appear prideful or (worse!) self-satisfied. Whether its been good for me or not, I've always wanted to improve and grow.

So here's what writing this posting has taught me. One potentially bad thing: I share with most people the fact that I am not fully happy. I may find a solution for that if I find new things designed to challenge me to grow. Three good things: I'm neither satisfied nor contented. And lately some of my old drive has returned. The problem now is to figure out how best to steer my returning energy. I've been thinking about guitar and/or singing lessons. Maybe ballroom dancing lessons. Busy-creative is better than just busy.

So THAT'S my new problem!
What's up with YOU?