Every month in her now discontinued print publication, O magazine, Oprah Winfrey wrote a column, “What I Know for Sure.” Here, she shared how her life experiences led to discovering what she now knew for sure. At a certain point in life, it becomes easier to weed out the superficial, the stuff that doesn’t add to your wellbeing, or is too much work to maintain. You find you keep returning to the constants—the pieces of your life that complete the puzzle; that make you whole; that feed your soul. So, in that spirit, here’s what I know for sure…
Many Expressions of Love
Now and forever, I know for sure that my son is the greatest gift I’ve ever received.
I know my mother, up until the day she passed, never stop worrying about me, even when I was well into adulthood. Before having my own child, I’d roll my eyes at the end of our visits, when she insisted, “Call me as soon as you get home!” Motherhood didn’t cure my eyerolling, but I finally understood where my mother was coming from.
I know I will always have pets, at least one cat. Playmates in childhood, comforters now. Having one of my cats settle, warm and purring, into my lap helps lighten any crummy mood. They give more than they take. Unlike many humans. When dealing with pain-in-the-ass people, I find myself relating to a Mark Twain quote that says, “If man could be crossed with the cat, it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat.”
I also know about the guaranteed return of hairballs, and how they never seem to appear on easily cleaned surfaces, like a kitchen floor. No, they’re destined for the area rugs. On the fringed edges, naturally.
I know it’s harder to make friends the older you get. Real friends, not just acquaintances, or those claimed 999 Facebook “friends.” Unlike some people (whom I’m in awe of), I have few holdovers from childhood. But I’ve been blessed with four, long-time “sister-friends,” the reliability of a small group of others, and the joy brought to my life by the friend who passed away too suddenly. I know for sure I must continually nurture these relationships, always valuing the precious jewels they are.
Craving Quiet or Seeking Adventure
My love affair with the beach is well known, from the early days of building sandcastles at Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, to the quieter days of fall and winter when I walk the sand, alone with my thoughts or camera. Appreciating the strangeness of cool temperatures in a place epitomizing heat.
Since it called to me 20 years ago, the Berkshires area in western Massachusetts offers everything my little heart desires, from lively main streets, a thriving farm-to-table food scene, to vibrant arts and culture communities, and breathtaking outdoors that encourage getting out and about in every season. I know for sure this is one of my happy places.
Baking and Baseball, Craft and Culture
I know how to make a tasty cheesecake, but keeping the top from cracking is something that eludes me. I’ve tried every suggestion from every baking guru. Alas, the cakes still present their own San Andreas fault line. Instagram-worthy they’re not, yet I know for sure everyone will ask for seconds.
I still know how to field a baseball and can hit well, too. My nine-year-old neighbor seems impressed.
I know for sure that I need to be involved in at least one creative effort consistently. Although my studio is crowded with many works in progress—half painted canvases, stray beads, findings, and other jewelry ephemera, and drafts for stories, I choose to see beauty in the unfinished. These projects hold me accountable; they keep me moving forward on my learning journey.
Music will surely fill my existence and environment, whether it’s jazz, old-school disco, classic rock, some classical, or world rhythms, this exposure is vital for my mind, soul, heart, and feet, as well as my ears.
I know for sure my home will always be cluttered with books and magazines; the crammed bookcases comfort me. If I could read in my sleep, I would. The lure of the book though, goes beyond its mere words. It’s in the little snap a new book’s spine makes when first opened. The smell of the ink on the pages. The cover designs.
And finally…
With each passing year, I know the chances are slim of being a world-famous graphic designer like the prolific Milton Glaser. I know, for me, “early retirement” is an oxymoron.
I know it’s okay to have that five o’clock cocktail at four.
I absolutely know for sure there’s still a lot I don’t know.