Museum Moment

Jeanita is one of my oldest and dearest friends, the kind you might not see for months and yet when you meet again, you can pick up exactly where you left off. Lately we’ve been trying to come up with a free weekend that we could get together with another couple of friends, and it seems impossible to come up with a date that will work for all the people involved. I’m not talking about a week or even an entire weekend. We’ve given up on that idea. Now we’re just trying to find a free spot for dinner! Incidentally, we live about 140 miles apart so it’s not as if she’s right around the corner. And then when you add more people into the mix, then a meeting really gets complicated!

At some point during last night’s conversation, Jeanita said something I’ve heard her say many times. It’s a thought I’ve heard expressed by many women.

“I thought things were supposed to get easier as we got older,” she said. “It seems like they’re getting more and more complicated.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “I’m busy all the time, and I often wonder how I managed to get anything done when I was a younger mother.”

As I’ve mentioned before, the key is balance. Jeanita and I like to have fun and have taken some trips to NYC together. On one of them, we left Judy, Joan Ella, and Patty at the hotel so that we could visit the MoMA, Museum of Modern Art, where there was a Van Gogh exhibit. I was having a conniption fit to see The Starry Night, and despite the fact that we’d miss having dinner with the rest of our party before the theatre, Jeanita was up for the experience.

We rode in a bicycle drawn rickshaw to get there, and even though we only had thirty minutes to savor the exhibit once we arrived, it was well worth the time and the money. On the way, we laughed and chatted and absorbed the energy of the city. Then when we got into the museum and on the floor of the exhibit, I said something like, “Let’s just walk in calmly and amble along until we see it.” She grinned, nodding in agreement.

And that’s what we did. After looking at paintings of wheat fields and potato eaters, we rounded a corner and there it was, The Starry Night. Awed by the painting’s intense colors, swirling celestial orbs, and the cypress tree reaching toward heaven, neither of us spoke for a few moments. Standing there, we talked about the tiny town nestled beneath the sky and how the church steeple reached heavenward, just like the tree. In the sky, there was action and energy and light; below there was quiet and darkness. We talked about how puffed up and important we humans think we are, and yet when compared to the cosmos, we’re “small potatoes.”

I’d have to say that viewing the painting was pretty close to a spiritual experience. While studying scriptures, praying, meditating, attending church, reading inspirational books and magazines are all beneficial for our spiritual growth, so is visiting an art museum and appreciating the work of the great painters. So are visiting a beach, a mountain, or your own backyard. Mother Nature can be a good nurturer, and often a walk around my neighborhood turns into a moving meditation.

Jeanita and saw the rest of the exhibit and then circled back for one last look at Starry Night. I bought a poster of it in the museum gift shop, and whenever I look at it, I remember that day in Manhattan when I was both Mary and Martha. Balance is the key.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Queen Esther and her royal apparel are on my mind again today. I wish more young people would read the account in Esther of how she appeared before the king in her royal apparel. I like to think that he took one look at her and thought, “Wow!” before extending the royal scepter.


Last weekend my daughter Elizabeth and I did a wee bit of shopping for back-to-school attire. She has great taste in clothes and home décor and has kept me from making many a fashion and decorating faux pas. She has a good eye for color and design and has often encouraged me to try something a little whimsical or off beat. At the same time, there have been occasions when she’s had to rein in some of my choices. “It’s just not you, Mom,” she’ll say. She’s even been known to look at me incredulously and ask, “What is that on your body?” when I’ve donned something too dated, youthful, unbecoming, or dowdy.

Elizabeth is a middle school teacher who adheres to a dress code. As a representative of the school, she realizes the importance of a professional appearance. Too, the students, especially the girls, are looking at her and the other school employees as additional role models for what’s appropriate and what’s not. Elizabeth, her work colleagues and I all know that if we want to get, keep, and grow in careers, then we have to follow certain guidelines. While I’m on the subject of appropriate attire, I have to mention my sister-in-law Cindy, a professional whose dress and appearance are always impeccable.

A few weeks ago Melissa, a young co-worker, told me about an article she had read about personal appearance and its importance in the workplace. According to the information she read, some of the top reasons given by employers for not hiring and/or promoting people all had to do with image factors that people have control over: bad breath, unkempt looking hair, visible tattoos, and wrinkled clothing. Then last week, I read an article on NPR that advised people who weren’t getting the positions and raises they wanted to look in the mirror. That’s right. According to the article, looks still count.

Many people might argue that it’s their work ethic and their expertise that should make the difference. They don’t think it’s fair to be judged on appearance. While they might have a point, it’s a fact that employers are the ones who are calling the shots, and if they don’t want to see visible tattoos and you want the job, then cover it (or them) up. If you think employers are being too picky about ironing your clothes, fine. Then stay unemployed. Like it or not, people everywhere make assumptions based on appearance, at least until they get to know you.

We may not all be queens going before kings, but we don’t need to look like we just climbed out of the palace dungeon either. Queen Esther knew that looking her best to impress the king would make a huge difference in his perception of her. Plus, it would give her the psychological boost she needed in order to appear before him with confidence. Had she gone sashaying in looking like any other woman in the harem, the king might have opted not to extend his scepter, a sign that could signal death for her and her people.

I feel like the teacher side of me is coming out today, that I’m pontificating a little too much about this subject. And yet, I sometimes look at the beautiful young women I see around me and wonder what has happened to them. Has no one ever told them about the importance of modest and appropriate (for the position) attire? Do they think that their looks or talents are all that’s necessary for success? Don’t they realize that if they want to have the scepter extended, that they have to look the part?