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Have I listened to my own audiobook yet? No I haven’t. It’s hard.
Pretty please REVIEW if you’ve read a few pages. Not just Amazon stars, but words?
George, an effigy of sorts (though not hated, as some effigies are), has been for decades seated upon the ice in a chair on the frozen local lake. We place bets at to when he’ll totally submerge. It’s a real crapshoot from year to year. The tether is to pull him out once he goes down. I have never won.
Dear Reader knows that I’ve long maligned overused modern expressions. Many originating from books written by business “experts.”
It’s as if those terms become immediately hackneyed. “Thinking outside the box” and being “on the same page” … I’ve never thought or been either. “Low-hanging fruit,” although I’ve never picked it, “chaps my fanny,” (a phrase I dig, neither corporate nor new). And “side hustle” I adore. I’m not sure where, for me, the line gets drawn. My threshold has no defined criteria.
With no help from corporate smoothies, the Young People (YPs) typically devise their own lexicon entirely, more so today than ever. Here’s an exchange I had with a Young Person I see occasionally:
Me: Thanks for the help.
YP: Totally!
Me: I’m sorry I distracted you from your duties.
YP: No worries.
Me: Be safe.
YP: And you as well.
My fave is his “Totally!” in place of “You’re welcome.” Also how he says, “And you as well,” no matter how I sign off. I could say, “Eat more pickled foods!” and he’d reply with, “And you as well,” I’m certain.
Greetings and Sign-offs have greater variety these days
People now ask less often, “How are you?” When they do, they get an honest answer. Which is rarely the old standard, “Great!” More often it’s: “Okay.” “Oh, all right.” If someone replies with “Great!”, we’re baffled and want to know more.
Currently all the rage: Deciphering what the heck the YPs are saying
Some we already knew.
“Bed Rotting” ~ Living for long hours in your bed, presumably on screens
“Brain Rot” ~ From exposing oneself to excessive online content
“Sick” ~ Funny
“Ghosting” ~ Ditching or not responding to someone
“It’s all good.” ~ A response to an apology, which I dislike. In general, it’s not even partially good, much less “all” good, if I’m apologizing … but okay.
Others I learned with the help of a hip local educator, a teachers’ website, and articles in USA Today (6/3/23) and the Wall Street Journal, of all places (2/5/25).
Know these terms and be less out of It – a Sampling
“Rizz” ~ n. Charisma; v. to charm.” (also: Rizzy, rizzless)
“Say Less.” ~ I understand, no need to explain further.
“Cap” ~ Calling someone a liar.
YP1 “I can jump higher than you!” YP2 “That’s all cap!” or “Stop capping.”
“No cap.” ~ No lie. “I love the way you look, no cap.”
Bet ~ I agree, understand
YP1 “Are you ready for the next slang word?” YP2 “Bet.”
“Delulu “ ~ Delusional. (Sounds like a health drink, no?)
“Ate that (and left no crumbs).”: when someone pulled off something impressive
“They’re talking.” ~ They’re dating. (I suppose the good news is they’re actually speaking to each other).
“Drip” ~ Attire, accessories. “Love the drip.”
“It’s giving.” ~ Something is good, cute (a vibe or something physical).
YP1 “Do you like my fit?” YP2 “Girl, it’s giving.” Or: “Yes, it’s giving Barbie . . . slay.” (It reminds me of a Barbie outfit; you are crushing it.)
“It’s Serving” ~ It looks really good. Or: “It’s serving Barbie.”
“Sus” ~ A suspicious person or situation
YP1 “Did you hear what Leah said?” YP2 “Yeah, her story sounds kinda sus, no cap.”
“Menty B” ~ Mental breakdown. (Sounds to me like a breath mint.)
“Flex” ~ Brag
YP1 “I want to show you my shoe collection.” YP2 “Weird flex.”
“Left on Read” ~ Your text was marked “read” but never replied to (awww).
“Tea” ~ Hot gossip “Spill the tea.”
Sigma/Alpha ~ Someone independent and strong. Think: “alpha dog.”
Beta ~ A weak, passive person
Omega ~ The lowest rating you can get (oof!)
Some I won’t pretend to understand
Skibidi Ohio. Beta maxing. Gyat. Gigachad. Baddie. Girl math. Yeet. Core. Kizzy Cap. Deeve. Preesh. Glazing. Fanum tax. The list—and regionalized mutations, interpretations, and spelling iterations—are endless
Sadly, by the time Dear Reader finishes this column, these terms have all fallen out of use. New ones have taken their place. How do I know this? Because I heard two used in a Hallmark movie, and that’s the kiss of death for any self-respecting YP, no doubt.
Is the elusive cleverness of all this making you “bonkers”? Are you going “out of your tree”? Have you “lost your bird”? I apologize, no cap and massive worries. Send your grievances to author@annaikens.com or www.uppervalleygirl.com, and, by all means, have a good day.*
*I end thusly this month because a fellow alto reports that her mother hated this common expression used in parting, and once replied to a store clerk, “I’ll have any kind of day I damn well please.”
Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find events and bookshops at annaikens.com; her blog is uppervalleygirl.com.
Free downloads at the Amazon. Use the free $0.00 eBook at upper right, not the Kindle download. Sign up for my e-list at www.annaikens.com and win a Prize! And my undying LERV. Note square cover created for eBook, by a goddess.
In the Bleak Midwinter
Oftentimes, this column starts as a handful of tips I’ve gleaned over a month, via reading and conversations. I cobble a column together for Dear Reader around those tips, tying them together with an emerging theme. The theme becomes the title. It’s not an intellectual process; it just unfolds. Let us see, together, where this one goes, shall we? I’m curious myself.
This December, for many, was a month of x-treme holiday busy-ness (performances, volunteering, religious services, gift-getting and making, and decorating—which always unearths some cry-worthy old family ornament or photo or child’s art). Many felt the holiday prep time too compressed this year, a full weekend shorter than usual. I think this is why people kept saying, “It doesn’t feel like Christmas.” Or maybe that’s just the age of the crowd I run with.
With all the socializing, there was much discussion of the Current State of Things, at home and abroad. There was some hopefulness, a lot of apprehension, and less faith in governing bodies and corporations (and people) than I’ve ever heard in my lifetime. Maybe that blasted pandemic rocketed us into not just a new direction, but a new dimension entirely. In 10 years it’ll all make more sense. Like when a presidency or marriage is later re-evaluated in the longer scheme of history. Too soon to tell.
For now: some tips. Then let’s see if we can extract the columnular Theme, which so far remains unclear.
Hang Out with Others if it Kills You
You may have over-mingled last month. But while allowing less time for solitude and wintry deep thots, spending time with the right people is a sane-making distraction at the least, and a whale of a good time at the most. Get in the habit of getting together, no matter the temperature, before that nasty Cabin Fever kicks in.
Jar of Thanks
There is a free magazine available in churches (stay with me here). “The Upper Room,” written by ordinary folks worldwide, has a daily Bible quote with an uplifting personal story from the “ordinary” author. The one for New Year’s Eve was by an American who writes on a slip of paper every day something he’s thankful for, and puts it in a jar. On New Year’s Day, he empties the jar and reads them all. I started mine, in a funky vase that catches the light. Dear Reader can start one late, who cares? It’s proves a lovely way to end the day. I bet it’ll make New Year’s Day a real bawlfest. “Oh, remember that? How dear! Boo hoo hoo.” Can’t wait.
Make Goals, Not Resolutions
Attainable goals. Not, “I’ll go to the gym every day for 5 years.” (Or: making a list of your accomplishments in the prior year can be more fun.) My main goal, if I may reveal: to feel cheery in the face of all manner of reasons not to be. Despite terrible things happening, it does no one any good to feel hopeless or lousy. Acknowledge the event, do something about it if you can, then shift gears. Wish me luck, I’m not good at this. Others are. I’m open to advice.
Lie to Yourself
…in the mirror and say, “Damn, I look better already!” Maybe you do.
Spread Reasons to be Cheerful
The New York Times, which keeps stats separate from the FBI, calculated in 2024 an actually far lower rate of murder than in recent years, along with other violent crimes. It’s not often you see “violent crimes” or “murder rate” in a piece meant to be uplifting, but there you have it. Now go look at NASA’s Image of the Day. Exquisite or weird, each is mindblowing and broadens your perspective.
Share Helpful Tips
Here’s how to glue different materials together, suggested by a techie whiz kid I know.
How to fix your own devices: Nearly every appliance and electronics device, large or small, bears a plate or panel with the model# and serial#. Take a photo of it. Then go to www.partselect.com, where you can search by brand, model/part, or symptom.
Good Deeds
… are as strong a medicine as laughter. Focusing on others, not yourself, and ameliorating someone else’s situation, well, what’s better than that? It’s even in The Wizard of Oz: “Back where I come from there are men who do nothing all day but good deeds. They are called phila… er, phila… er, yes, er, Good Deed Doers.” They must be very happy people, Mr. Wizard!
Have and Cause Laffs
Years ago, a colleague’s son visited his grandmother at Christmas time and saw her miniature nativity scene. Upon returning home he remarked, “Grandma’s Jesus dollhouse is really cool.”
A friend who’s half Jewish/half Catholic celebrates both holidays. When her kids were young, the rabbi from Chabad House arrived unexpectedly. They couldn’t not invite him in, so they all maneuvered him to keep him from seeing their Christmas tree. “Check out our new painting!” or, “Oh look, a bird!” Still cracks me up.
I highly recommend hanging around people who have contagious laughs (Anderson Cooper?), and listening to the recent “Fiasco!” episode of the This American Life (now on podcast). These true stories of fiascos are hilarious. I was laughing so hard I almost drove off the road. People who drove past me then also snickered. It made me feel we were all in this together, which we of course are.
So, what does Dear Reader think these ingredients create thematically? The pieces seem to be this: help others, and spread good cheer, hot tips, and big laffs. Which we will definitely need in 2025, which promises to be a weird one. How we start the New Year is important; start early on establishing new habits this year. (I began my year with a snowy walk and a nap. Not bad!) Adversity has been and will always be there, as will wrenching stories of ills befalling others. Our good spirits and good deeds are the best antidote. We are indeed all in this together.
I have absolutely no idea how this can coalesce into a succinct columnular title. Wait: I think it’s the one I already wrote; just make it about the year ahead instead of about this humble column.
Tell me about your first good deed of 2025. How was it, exciting? I’m certain it was. Good year, Dear Reader, good good-deed doing, and good day.
Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find contact info and bookshops at annaikens.com; her blog is uppervalleygirl.com.
Well dang if that doesn’t look like a Christmas tree. See anything yourself?
I know some readers ran from the building upon seeing the word religion, above. And I know it should not be discussed in polite company. But I further know that many readers – and nutters I call friends – would not consider themselves polite company.
Ah, Halloween! A magical holiday where I grew up, a place then not as rural as Vermont, yet not the overdeveloped bastion of privilege that it sadly became. Back then, it was a lot of houses made by dads and uncles moving their families to “the country” from the Bronx and such. A lot of woods. And a heck of a lot of childhood mischief, especially on Halloween.
I recall like yesterday the thrill as we crunched through (mostly oak?) leaves in inventive costumes, dragging wands, too-long skirts, broomsticks and giant satchels, delighting in autumnal smells. The real excitement began once we were old enough to go out without parental supervision. It was invigorating as hell. Our antennae (lit. and fig.) were on high alert. We had minimal street lighting. No halogens. Dark! There was a palpable sense of danger in the air. Little to do with honoring the dead or saints on All Hallows’ Eve, or the possibly pagan roots thereof.
Melissa Kirsch suggested in the NYT that we all try not knowing everything in advance. Not spending hours comparing products before buying. Not researching the heck out of each place before going there. Letting an adventure unfold, and inspire wonder. Doing an unscheduled, impromptu, playful thing.
This holiday was that. We had no master plan for maximum treatage. We weren’t greedy. We were just roaming in the dark, tittering, wondering what was around every bush, house, and corner. The older kids were generally menacing on any given day. What might they do to us on this day? Attack? Plunder our treat haul? Anything but that!
Raised Episcopalian, to my Catholic grandmother’s dismay, I later became a bit of a pagan in the original sense (not as in the polytheistic belief in multiple gods, but as in the Latin pagani: people who lived rurally, thus considered ignorant). I’m happily, rurally ignorant. Due to unexplainable events and crazy coincidences I experienced, over time I came to believe in energies and nature spirits, certainly ghosts, and in celebrating the change of seasons. Which might make me Wiccan. A modern pagan.
Dear Reader may find that nuts, but what sissy writes about religion without stating where she stands? I’m not too worried what people think of me. I go to a great church. I also believe that trees have a kind of consciousness (which has been scientifically examined), as does everything in nature. We should honor nature. We should cheer it on. I feel it would respond in kind. More oxygen. Cooling temps. Fewer storms.
Is this paganism? Wicca? A heretical blending of “true” religion with fanciful notions? Does it matter what it’s called? I just call it energetic. Have you never nursed something or someone back to health by your own seeming sheer force of will, with or without prayer mixed in? Thoughts and desires carry energy.
As for the earth’s widely accepted Abrahamic religions, and any other I’ve read about, I find some of it silly – including in my own Christianity, which I very much enjoy right along with my less conventional beliefs. Still, I think the world would be a lot happier if more people regularly practiced some form of religion (spirituality?) without judging the others. It has been proven that people who live in groups are happiest. And I can tell you for sure that people who gather in groups to give thanks, to commune, to do good works, and sing maybe, and pray for each other and our planet, and to celebrate together, absolutely get a happiness and a peace from it. I doubt most people attend services these days because they’re afraid of eternal damnation. They go because they feel good there. Hopeful. Valued. Useful.
I’ve been in mosques, Russian Orthodox churches, JW meetings, Jewish temples and Chabad Houses, weddings of all stripes, Buddhist funerals, a Catholic Easter in Rome … and honestly, they all felt spiritual, holy, life-affirming. I’m not keen on those run solely by men (still?!?), but no one forced me to attend.
Many don’t believe in any God at all, regarding earthly suffering as proof that no loving being is In Charge. I’ve waivered myself, and understand. I don’t believe in predestination or fate; I do believe in free will and in luck — including bad luck. I don’t believe in a punishment/reward-based karma, but did when younger, and I do believe in multiple lifetimes. Is there truly no divine being of any kind? The universe is too magnificent, with too many synchronicities, for there not to be something larger than ourselves at play, way I see it.
I get your God, if it’s love-based. What I don’t get, as perhaps Dear Reader does not, is why so many consider their religion superior — in fact, the only valid one. If that were the case, you’d have to be born in a certain place to certain parents to be lucky enough not to burn in the fires of Hell (or whatever) for eternity (or whatever). To wit: all the poor slobs who weren’t born like you were just born damned. And should be punished or enslaved, in life or in death? I’m not buying it.
Surely all religions, when not misinterpreted by maniacs with agendas, basically lead to the same place. Be kind. Stand for what’s right. Make amends. Help others, including strangers. Respect however our planet’s beauty was created; steward its health. Do good works. Spread love.
Ideas
• Try taking time off weekly, a secular sabbath of sorts, to appreciate things. I’m awed when something nice, even a cloud formation, is delivered unto me. I thank the Forces almost daily for something, however small, because my belief is that there’s no way this whole show is running itself. I think we’re co-running it with some benevolent spirit or spirits, and if we’d just quit screwing things up on our end, everything would get a lot nicer real fast.
• If you can’t do, CHEER ON. Can’t run or perform? Go see a footrace or a play or a concert. Participants are boosted like a rocket when spectators are rooting for them! Feel the energy travel around the participants and spectators. It’s magical. My niece said that a dog got so excited as she ardently cheered on 5K runners that he “piddled.” Feel the love. Good day.
Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find bookshops at annaikens.com; blog: uppervalleygirl.com.
Free downloads at the Amazon start tonight at midnight. Use the free $0.00 eBook at upper right, not the Kindle download. Sign up for my e-list at www.annaikens.com and win a Prize! And my undying LERV. PS Don’t think that I think I look good here! Authors often don’t. We’re not a fancy lot. We’re more concerned with thots than our hair?
At the end of an idyllic college reunion weekend, a friend said three words as we watched a classmate loading his car become morose. “Transitions are hard,” she whispered.
Truer words never spoken. I wish someone had said them to me decades ago.
Because emotions are more dealable when you know why you’re feeling them. Such as: “I’m despondent because I’m going through a transition.” Not: “I’m overreacting.” Or “I’m losing my mind for no apparent reason.” At reunion, it was this: “I had the best time this weekend. I love my funny, smart college friends. Now I have to go home.”
Transitioning seasons is a hard one for many. Some lament the end of summer, particularly the gardeners and the sun- and water- lovers. Myself, I welcome fall. Summer drags on too long for me. When the sun shines, we feel obligated to make hay. When we have a summer with little rain, that’s a lot of haymaking. Read: outdoorsy work, socializing, exercising. There’s not much time to … reflect. It feels to me like a lot of “racing around,” as my mother would put it.
Fall’s shorter days heighten our more introspective inclinations, for good or bad. I savor the colors and the smells of autumn (if not the Leafer traffic), the harvest, the stews, the cooler temps, the colder waters. Stick season delights me, while it sends others spiraling downwards. A few weeks ago was monarch butterfly season. Then, termite season. Now: wasps-looking-to get-in-the-house season. Some geese already heading south. Boom boom boom, one after the other. Change.
The longer you live, more change. With each season, an anniversary: we remember something – or someone – now gone. Family and friends who have died. The houses loved, with so many memories, sold. My pal I used to take to the summer fried clam shacks or the fall apple festivals now unable to leave his residence! Nieces and nephews I rarely see! Who, when small, had inventive costumes for Halloween. (One Halloween the youngest declared she would be: “a marshmallow on a stick”. And she was). Little them, all running up and down streets for tricks and treats. I’m terribly nostalgic for those times. I am gladdened when anyone says they miss when their kids were young. Then I’m not alone.
I asked a college friend, what change was hard about becoming an empty nester? Was it that the house grew quiet, that you missed your daughter’s presence, that three was now two? He said, “All of it … and just … where did 20 years go?”
There’s that – the growing up of the youth below us – sometimes as the people above us, who took care of us, now need caretaking. And when the once-capable parents die, as a sage friend put it, “It’s like losing a roof over your head that you never even knew was there.” Heck, it’s hard enough for me when friends move away.
Nostalgia is an odd thing, defined by Merriam-Webster as “a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.” The American Heritage Dictionary takes it one further: “Homesickness; esp., a severe and sometimes fatal form of melancholia, due to homesickness.” Yipes! I hope I don’t have the fatal kind. I do hate change. Except for a change of heart. That I like.
I think we’re born with a degree of nostalgia, and life circumstances make it grow more for some people. Some of us are barely nostalgic at all (I envy you), and some are what I call “nostalgia monsters.” A scientist might call us “superstalgics”.
A niece and I are both that. We’ll talk about things we miss, and bawl. When I suggested that we are both nostalgia monsters, she said, “I’m so nostalgic that once I rearranged my room and immediately cried because I missed the way it ‘used to be’ an hour earlier.” (One advantage to kids’ growing up: their self-awareness and humor become more sophisticated.)
I’m not sure what function nostalgia serves. It’s mostly just painful. Perhaps, in the way spiritual and artistic and carpentry gatherings connect people within a community, nostalgia connects time within ourselves. It connects our present to our past in a mostly good way. There might be some biological survival-of-the-species value in this. I don’t know. All I know is I couldn’t bear saying goodbye to my elementary school teachers at year-end and I haven’t changed a bit.
It doesn’t matter how logically superstalgics think. We can’t embrace change when our heart is throbbing with sorrow.
Back to fall. Stick season was at one time, for me, a harbinger of the noisy, wonderful family gatherings of Thanksgiving. But my family doesn’t have those any more. My mommy was the center of them, as a mother so often is. Maybe, with age, you have less to look forward to in general. For yourself. You can be happy for the pivotal events in the lives of those younger, but for you, not that much is happening. Maybe you can’t get off work for holidays, or traveling has become difficult. Maybe money is tight, and you can’t visit your people. I get it all.
So if you wax gloomy as the leaves fall, I feel your pain. I won’t say, “Let us embrace change!” any more than I’d say, “Let us wrap barbed wire around hot dogs and eat them!” But I for one can and must distract myself from nostalgia. “Life is for the living,” my sage friend says.
I yank myself into the present. I help others as able, attend the New World Festival, the Tunbridge Fair, the Morrill Homestead Apple and Cheese Festival, consider crafting holiday gifts. I ponder the Covid-19 test called BinaxNOW and wonder if the NOW indicates urgency, or if it’s an acronym (No Organisms Within?), and whether NOW should be applied to other products, such as TortillasNOW, Old SpiceNOW, or – definitely – ImmodiumNOW. Needs an exclamation point. Good day.
Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. Find bookshops at annaikens.com; her blog is uppervalleygirl.com.
Given the increasingly maddening state of global affairs, the New Climate rollercoaster, plus whatever you’re going through personally, I imagine that Dear Reader is somewhat terrified. Or, at the least, dismayed. Bewildered?
I get it, and offer here some tips. My own life a basketful of paralyzing worries on a daily basis, I’ve had to actively endeavor not to go crackers. So I consider myself, if sadly, an expert at digging myself out of the hole. Here’s this. Hope it not silly pablum, but something of use.
Help where you can. Then: There are so many terrible things happening on earth — all being reported in exquisite detail — we simply must turn down the volume. Decide against reading past a panic-inducing headline even if it kills you. Turn off some alerts – or people. Turn off your notifications and tune in to Tight Pants Dance Party on Pandora (Pandora’s free, if you can stand the occasional ads) and go scrub the bathtub. Then get in?
Ah yes, real physical exercise, as much as you can muster. That and getting in water just kick the stuffing out of anxiety. You’ll sleep better. What, you’re not getting good sleep? Haha! Who is? I want to meet these people. What is their secret? Oh wait, they lack empathy. Goody for them.
When this world is alarming, check out and go to other worlds. If you can afford it, travel. Meditation (always free on the excellent Insight Timer app), contemplative prayer, lovely scenery set to music on Youtube (a superb use of drones), napping, forest bathing, earthing, swimming, reading spiritual books or those with happy endings…I’m doing all those things, plus watching pro tennis (I enjoy the inaudible muttering) and — of course — the Olympics. You have your own jones. Fishing? Boating? Zip-lining? Drive-in movies? Go! Other worlds, I tell you.
Subscribe to good news. Thankfully, there is in fact good news out there. See a list of IG recommendations at the end of this column.
Dear Reader may have a physical situation exacerbating your outlook. Who needs that? Low thyroid, blood sugar, and hormonal issues can wreak havoc. See a doctor or alternative medicine practitioner recommended by someone you actually know. Try something new, like reiki, EMDR, hypnotism – could intrigue and boost. At the least, distract!
Laugh out loud. I saw a book at the annual Barnard Fire & Rescue tag sale, Bread Machine Magic. Others laughed heartily at their own finds. Mere laughter makes others laugh.
Make music or art. Dust off that accordion or your vocal cords … get craft supplies at your local purveyor … take a class … and steep yourself in sane-making pleasures.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. A kind friend recently said I was too hard on myself. My unspoken reaction was, “Our parents were hard on us, so that makes sense.” The last thing you need when things are difficult is you being your own adversary.
Spend some money, by crikey. We’ve all become so tight-fisted that I think it’s making us contract physically and spiritually. Eat out! Get something you’ve badly needed for months or years (yes, the price went up, and it’s not going down). Or just some frippery that elevates you. Buy a gift for someone worse off than you. And I don’t mean on the Amazon. Post-COVID Burl, post-flood Montpelier, and your very own town can use the biz — and uplift. Watch the proprietor’s face light right up. Customers! By buying something, you’re gifting to your friend or self an object or service, and the gifts of cheer and hope to the seller. The world could use a whole lot more of those. Money talks. Hello, it says, I’m here for the trading.
As promised: Hot Instagram tips from lifelong friend COL.
The Dogist: He goes around NYC taking photos of people’s dogs, talking briefly to the owners.
Outta Puff Daddys: Middle-aged British dudes who formed a little dance company; it morphed into advocating for men’s mental health. So dear.
Funkanometry: Two young Canadian guys who do hip-hop type dance to all different kinds of music.
This chick named Jen I couldn’t find, who post things positive every day, as she says at the end, apparently.
Dan Harris: Anchorman had a panic attack on TV, then wrote the bestseller Ten Percent Happier… like a Buddhist Zen for current times. No candy coating. He gives little snippets and then ends little each one with: “Inner peace, m—–f—–‘s“
The self-help people: Mel Robbins, Jay Shetty, many others.
The dancing and art ones. Just search.
The PS22 Chorus! Not-privileged fifth graders in NYC public school. They sing with total heart and a young, funny, energetic leader. I dare you not to cry.
Nathan Clark Wildlife… He had the coolest photos and videos of a little owl family at the top of a dead tree.
Soul Seeds for All: Uplifting nuggets. Break out the Kleenex.
Surely something up there is your bag? By all means send me your own faves. Regardless: Don’t go down without a fight! Take steps to feel UP! Then spread the wealth, as able. Good day.
Ann Aikens is an author, columnist, speaker, and blogger. Her darkly comical book of advice, A Young Woman’s Guide to Life: A Cautionary Tale, was published in 2023, her Upper Valley Girl column since 1996. See ww.uppervalleygirl.com and www.annaikens.com.
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