Bucky Beaver

Through adversity, we can become our best selves.

When I was in elementary school, one of my teachers would roll in a TV on an elevated cart once a week so we could watch the Bucky Beaver show. I don’t remember much about the show except that it was in black and white, Bucky was a puppet, and we were learning about Lewis and Clark. But Bucky and I have some serious history. You see, about that time, my adult teeth were growing at a much faster, larger rate than the rest of my face. I also had an overbite, otherwise known as bucked-teeth. So, once Bucky showed up in our classroom, I was given the lovely nickname Bucky Beaver. 

While there were a lot of hurtful childhood nicknames that would be thrown my way from time to time, Bucky Beaver really hurt. I was already self-conscious of my teeth, and this nickname made them feel much larger than they actually were. I was a rather shy child, and I did not care for this kind of attention at all. When provoked, I learned it was in my best interest to not react, so as not to lend more fuel to the proverbial fire. My parents told me things like, kids will be kids, and they are just jealous, but that doesn’t really make you feel any better when taunted by, Bucky Beaver, Bucky Beaver!

As I observed the various nicknames and taunting going on in this social stew of elementary school, I made it a point to not include myself in this type of hurtful behavior. We all knew who the bullies were, and I could see they were the one’s with the problem. They were just deflecting their own insecurities. I wouldn’t have been able to put it in those words back then, but I began to see what was actually going on. While they were deflecting, I was doing my best to ignore them, something else my parents suggested. By choosing to ignore, I became the one in control of the situation.

Bucky helped me realize I was better than the sum of the words directed my way. He helped me move beyond the taunting and show those bullies just how great I could be. I excelled in my studies, playground activities, sports, and whatever else I put my mind to. Bucky Beaver, Bucky Beaver, fell to the wayside, as I was no longer someone fun to intimidate.

I may not be a kid now, but I can still see who the bullies are. Young or old, they are out there deflecting their insecurities. The only thing the rest of us can do is to be better than they are. I didn’t know at the time, but good old Bucky Beaver started me off on a course of life lessons learned. Thanks Bucky!

Smiley photo courtesy of Clark family archives

Perspective

Each morning, throughout the day, and the last thing at night, we watch the surf. When one is visiting Hawaii that is what one should do. Rather than trying to see all of the sights of whatever island I am parked on, I kick back and say, alo-haaaaaaa.

I had been staring at the movement of the water and looking out across to Lanai and Molokai for two weeks. I walked and ran in my adopted neighborhood of West Maui nearly every day. One day I decided to head up, and up away from the beach. When I turned around, I was quite taken by the panoramic view; but moreover, I was surprised at the awe-inspiring perspective of it all. The islands I had been viewing from the beach seemed to have grown. While the sands had been shifting in front of us days earlier creating and taking away beachfront, there was no way those islands grew higher, but here I was looking at what appeared to be much taller islands.

After my hill climb, the word perspective kept dancing in my head for days. When a word continually bounces around in my brain, I know I must give some sort of awareness to it. By giving this random word center stage, I allow the awareness to become a point of learning. I allow the word to speak.

I know perspective is a way of regarding something. It's a frame of reference that lends to my interpretation. Whether it's a sense of proportion, as in my view across the water, or it's my understanding of the relative importance of something, perspective is my point of view. Viewing the islands from a hilltop, I can see I should allow for the possibility of change in perspective depending on what information I have at the time, depending on how I look at things. Rather than being rigid in my perspective, I must strive to be fluid, like the ebb and flow of the waves I've been watching. This fluidity brings me peace and allows me to see my life, and the world around me, in a more understanding way. It allows me to bring acceptance to whatever comes my way. By allowing the word perspective to speak to me as I stand on the hillside, I hear and see perspective in all things can and does change.

Now, if I had been driving all over the place trying to see the sights and do everything I possibly could, I just might have missed this learning opportunity. As I look out of West Maui, beach level or hilltop, I have certainly expanded my horizon. Alo-haaaaaaa.

Beach photo courtesy of Clark family archives

Shifting Sands

Over the course of a few days, on a recent visit to Maui, Hawaii, we watched the beach move from one location to another. We had a rocky shoreline in front of us when we arrived, then a few days later the entire beach had shifted from a sandy beach condo complex just north of us. We were left with the sandy beach while the resort was left with a ten-foot drop to the volcanic rocks. While I know the ocean and the sand are in a constant state of movement, to see how quickly something like this can happen was simply jaw dropping remarkable.

These shifting sands remind me of how fast life can change. One minute all is is well, and you are drifting along happy as a clam, then BAM, the tides change, and everything goes topsy-turvy. Change is often difficult to deal with, even when you can see it coming; but when you don't, well that's a whole different beach altogether. I find the key to change is some form of acceptance. Until I find acceptance, I ponder my choices. As you can see by the pictures, there was no stopping the strong tides and shifting sands, so rather than fighting the tides, I simply float along and see where the tides take me. Even if I can't land where I would like to, where I end up may be even better. Think of it this way - same sand, different beach.

Much aloha,

Shifting sands photos courtesy of Clark and Frye family archives

Recycling Love

As I have been going through the boxes of cards and letters saved for me from the time I was born, to the ones I have kept throughout my life, it has felt somewhat like an archeological excavation. Previously, it seemed sac religious to dispose of these items. Now, not so much!

But what to do with forty years of valentines, anniversaries, birthdays, Christmases and the miscellaneous I love you’s shared with my dearest friend, my husband? I began by sorting the best of the best out, sorted through those again, then divided them up by event. I saved maybe a dozen of each event for each of us. This past Valentine's Day, we “shopped” our old cards and recycled our love. This is the ultimate in green giving, the best of recycling. We are saving trees, saving gas and probably saving in ways we don't even know about. Weird? Maybe, but there again I'm thinking, not so much.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy receiving cards and letters sent to me, and I will continue to send them to others. But, I'll use more of the cards I receive for bookmarks in cookbooks, books I am reading, and to jot down notes. I just won't be keeping them forever, and you don't have to either.

How about recycling all cards? My mother-in-law once sent the Christmas cards she received back to the senders the following year. It had something to do with using construction paper, covering areas where the sender had written anything, and wrapping the construction paper around the card to form an envelope. She only heard from one person who noticed, and she sends out and receives an extraordinary number of cards. Sounds like a lot of trouble to me, but you could send a delightful card back and forth to the same person, as in, Happy Birthday, and backatcha, again and again. Gives a whole new meaning to re-gifting.

Be creative, be green, simplify, or whatever you want to call it, but STOP the madness of saving all of these cards! I am now wondering what my friend Phyllis is going to do with the monthly anniversary cards she and her husband share each month. Yes, each month; yes, she saves them, and this has been going on for more than twenty years! Sweet remembrances, but I am having a difficult time picturing twelve times the anniversary cards. And I thought it looked like every Hallmark shops worst nightmare when I sorted through my cards and had them covering my entire family room.

Saving special memories is something we all do in one way or another. Getting rid of the collection of memories in our attics and under our beds is another thing. Be green, follow my lead and move on. Enjoy the cards, but I am here to tell you, there are no Hallmark SWAT teams! Well, if there are, they didn't burst into my house. So will I regret what I have disposed of, I’m thinking, not so much! Will my family miss going through my detritus? Again, not so much. And to all those people who think there may be money left in some of those cards, not so much!

3D recycle symbol courtesy of Chris Potter

A Pony Tale

When my niece was in high school, over ten years ago, she donated her long ponytail to the Locks of Love non-profit organization. Locks of Love take the donated ponytails and create wigs for financially disadvantaged children who have lost their hair. Being someone who wore ponytails and braids as a child, once I heard about Locks of Love, I wished I could have donated mine when I had my last pony cut forty years ago.

I was going through boxes recently, as I move forward in the quest to downsize my life, and guess what I found? Lo and behold, a plastic bag with two, count ‘em two, ponytails. Since I am getting rid of things left and right these days, these two ponytails do not need to continue to follow me into my future. I really did not want to throw them away, though. Searching the Internet I found Locks of Love is still going strong. I looked at the criteria for hair donation, and it was noted that hair cut years ago was acceptable. Yay! And, all ponytails or braids must be at least ten inches long. I measured mine and I had one at eleven and a half inches and one at fifteen inches. Yay, again!

 If you know me, or have seen my picture on this website, you will know I have very short hair. Most of the time it is two inches or shorter. I know I will never grow my hair long again, but I have an opportunity I thought would never come my way. While these two ponytails will not follow me into my future, they will be the future for a child in need.

Downsizing has pointed me in many interesting directions as I seek to donate, sell, shred, and garbage, the belongings of my life. Locks of Love is just one of the many options I have found. By getting the moving process started, even before we know where we are moving, I have the opportunity to take the time to go through everything. Taking this time has allowed me to find appropriate homes for many items. If I hadn't been taking this time, I more than likely would have tossed many items, including ponytails, while in a rush to pack. I would have missed out on a chance to improve the life of someone else in a very special way.

Ponytail photo courtesy of Corey Holmes