The value of a firm handshake

I have had several unpleasant handshake experiences over the past few months, and I'm just wondering what happened to the firm American handshake?

Frankly, when you extend your hand in welcome, friendship and especially as a symbol of your honesty in business dealings it is simply creepy to get back a limp, clammy dead fish of a hand with absolutely no shake to it. Yuck!

But this happens way too often (once a decade is reasonable). I used to assume this kind of handshake was mainly relegated to the female of the species, but unfortunately I've run into a couple of men recently. I want to grasp their shoulders and shake them and announce, "That's not the way you do it!"

There's nothing more American than sealing a deal with a handshake. What does a lack of backbone on a handshake say about the person you've just sealed the deal with? Shady, weak-willed, anemic? I'm sorry, only older folks and those who are ill should deliver this type of handshake.

Boy, I'm passionate about this one.

Seriously, though, I've wanted to coach those who came looking for a job or wanted to offer me one when I've run into the limp handshaker. How can they expect to be taken seriously if they can't even deliver a confident handshake? Women especially must be cognizant of the impression the give when they clasp another hand in the business world. You must make the other person feel comfortable that you can handle what lays ahead or that they can trust you to stick to what you've offered in a job or business deal.

So, let's revive the good old-fashioned handshake, for the sake of all those who use it as a daily tool and especially to live up to our American ideals! Okay, that may be a little over the top, but you know what I mean.

Shake on it?

Loss of Awe

I lay in Wanda the other morning staring out the back window at the treetops that loom above my RV home. While I wasn't ignoring them, it dawned on me that I had lost a sense of awe I had when I first moved there. As soon as I realized I was taking for granted those deep green leaves attached to the wandering arms the old oak tree that stands at the back of my space and outlined against a pearly, aqua blue sky, I snapped out of it.

I saw again what I had seen the first time, incredible beauty there for me everyday of my ordinary life. There is a quote from Albert Einstein that seems so appropriate for what I'm trying to get at:

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." --A. Einstein

And isn't this true? It is so easy to lose our sense of wonder at the things we are surrounded by, because we experience them every day. They become commonplace to us. But they are anything but commonplace.

I visit my parents home about once a month now. When I could get there very rarely I would breathe deeply and feel a profound relaxation come over me. Now that I've been there about ten times since arriving in California, I realized the other day that I don't do that anymore.

Nothing has changed about the location, only my own desensitization has affected my outlook. I forgot to notice how wonderful the place is. By the way, that's a picture of their front yard. Looking out over BLM land from their backyard deck is even better. The turkeys and deer that wander across it every day think so too apparently.

So, I've vowed to try to incorporate a moment in each of my days to "stop and smell the roses," because really that's what life is all about.

It doesn't have to be the outdoors either. Perhaps, it's savoring the taste of that marvelous wine or appreciating the tinkling laughter of a child we pass in the mall or the smile of someone we love that we've seen everyday and don't realize how much we'll miss when they're not around. It's all the little things I am given every moment that I want to relish while I can.

Join me?

Downsizing all over my life

Now that I've downsized my living accommodations, it seems so natural to keep up the trend. I find I packed way too much stuff for my new lifestyle; too many dishes, too much "I might need this someday" stuff and amazingly too many clothes.

Yesterday I did myself a little favor. I saw this brightly colored basket and thought "Wouldn't that make a nice purse?" Then I proceeded to nearly talk myself out of it, because (as you can see in the background) the big, black purse I had been carrying held everything I would ever need. This little confection of a container clearly wouldn't. But my desire for more simplicity won out.

This morning I began transferring the absolute necessities and surprisingly, the little purse held nearly everything, except the old Dooney & Burke wallet I've carried for four years. Again, black leather and over-sized, the monstrosity had to go. So, today I picked up a $5 little red, zippered wallet, which is more like a pouch with a window than an actual wallet and again felt a bit more freedom.

Every part of my life seems overburdened somehow, and as I go through each week, I find myself throwing off the parts I don't need. I must be careful, though, to understand that many of those I speak to, are now in the midst of raising their families, feathering their nests, etc., so that not only does my joy at these small releases seem foreign to them, but in a way, it is a betrayal to the life they are in the middle of living.

When they look at me with a bit of wonder and a tiny bit of jealousy in their eyes, I am tempted to tell them not to worry that someday they will be here, too. But then I quickly remember you can't tell people things like that. They don't listen. I never did.

Those that look at me with tilted heads and glassed-over eyes don't understand, aren't jealous of my sense of freedom and will certainly never want to be released. And that is what makes this wonderful world go round...our differences. Hail to the Universe!