The other day I got a Lillian Vernon catalogue in the mail. I think I ordered something from them fifteen years ago and I still get their catalogues. Lillian holds out a lot of hope for me. As do Harry and David.
Sean was sitting at the kitchen counter, so I plopped the catalogue down in front of him. I gave him a pen and told him to circle the things he liked. I used to do this with the J. C. Penney catalogues that my mother got in the mail. I’d sit on the sofa and spend hours pretending I could order anything I wanted, all I had to do was circle it and it was mine.
I’d circle everything from toys to clothes to appliances. I never ever got anything from the J. C. Penney catalogue, but I have sweet memories rather than bitter about all that fruitless circling. For me, circling was an exercise in dreaming rather than coveting, possibilities rather than the limitations.
Sean got busy with that pen, and just like his mother, he circled just about everything, except “girl stuff” which he denounced as yucky.
Antique Daddy walked in the room and asked what we were doing. I offered my best explanation but his puzzled expression told me he didn’t understand the value of circle therapy.
“Sean, you can’t circle everything,” he said as though logic were involved.
“Yes, I can,” he said.
“That’s right,” I agreed, “He can circle everything. Circles are free.”
Dream big. Circle everything. Both are free.