THREE MONTHS ADAPTING

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BY JOELLEN COLLINS

JoEllen Collins—a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley—is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as “Bibi Jo.”

There is a phase in any move where one must adjust to new circumstances. Even too many POSITIVE changes in a short time can cause stress, in spite of one being excited with the new. I imagined that my relocation would be easier than it has been, but with some tweaks, at just three months, I find myself smiling a lot, laughing often, meeting new people, and getting involved in a bit more of the world outside my residence. I smile when I remind others that I arrived in Walnut Creek the night before Halloween, without a broomstick.  As silly as that thought is, I have discovered that acknowledging my own personality and qualities has been just fine. I am not competing with anyone or fearing that if I give out a compliment, someone will think I’m just insecure and flattering. I just do what I feel is right for me.
I recognize my flaws: I know I talk too much, I am compelled to make mild jokes, and I probably comment too often on things I notice around me, especially sweet events, good conversations, engaging books, and our very accommodating staff.  Maybe no one needs to hear me effuse about the food, someone’s new haircut or the pleasure of meeting new people. Obviously, this behavior is inbred but also serves to mask some of my sadness at not being close to my former neighbors and events in the Wood River Valley.
I do miss my former life, but because I am hopelessly possessed of a cheery attitude, I believe I notice lovely things almost every day. My dog Suki, music, literature, good television, and healthy activities are accessible, but so is peace and quiet. I am learning to enjoy this weather and many short but beautiful walks. This morning, right outside my window, were two daffodils blooming, with others ready to pop. I appreciate seeing this bright yellow delight even in winter.
So little things have taken on larger meanings, encouraging me to be more aware of the everyday events that nourish us. The server in the dining hall who loves to sing as he greets us is a happy example. He’s not asking for a tip (servers are salaried here) but expressing his delight at a new day and the people around him.
Many of my recent acquaintances have grievous physical ailments but manage their lives in admirable ways. It doesn’t hurt and makes me happy to greet them, the attentive staff, and others with a “Hello” or “Goodnight” and mean it. That’s daily reinforcement of my gratitude for being here and now.  If I lose my dog, receive bad news about friends and family and acquire some afflictions, I will still try to remember how I have been blessed.
In a letter to a suffering friend, the poet Keats said, “Thank heaven for what happiness you have, and after thinking a moment or two that you suffer with all mankind, hold it not a sin to regain your cheerfulness.”