April 2026 . . . .

“Spring Cleaning”

There’s a lot going on, isn’t there? If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you know what I mean without me going into sordid details. Or sorted ones. And would probably prefer we change the subject.


We each are trying to get by, get through or around, this. And far be it from me to give you advice on how to navigate and cope.


And yet I’m going to. Why? Friends do that to each other. I mean for each other. We listen and comment and suggest, needle and nudge. We have concern for each other. Friends listen to your complaints and nod affirmingly, even though we’ve heard you before with those same issues. Friends correct your grammar in the middle of making a point. Friends give examples of what we’re doing that may or may not help you, but you never know unless you try. We’re full of unsolicited signaling and things of that nature. We call you when you’re busy, and you answer the phone. Because it’s for your own good.


Yes, when you look at it that way, friends are a burden, often difficult and hard to deal with. But life is a burden, often difficult. Friends keep you in shape for what life is going to throw at you.


So I have a little list. I know you already know most of this stuff. But here I go, anyway.


1 — Have you walked away from your TV yet? And why not? There are no right answers here. Turn it off. Unplug it, even. Don’t push it off its stand onto the floor, or pull it off the wall. We’re not quite at that point. Just off will suffice. And leave it off. No good comes from it.


2 — Take a walk. Around the block, or something equivalent. Don’t want to go outside? I totally get it. So take one hundred and twenty laps around the kitchen island or the coffee table in the living room. Or just march in place, like the wooden soldiers in “Babes in Toyland.” Pick a song to turn on or just hum. That’s right, the entire song. Something good, like one of the Brandenburg concerti, or “Stairway to Heaven.” Real science says it is good for you, in all the ways that “good” can be defined. (Did you know that J. S. Bach composed the Brandenburgs for the Margrave of that principality of the Holy Roman Empire, but the man refused to pay for the music? So it goes, says the great Vonnegut.)


3 — Are you getting enough sleep? Set that schedule and stick to it. Don’t check your phone, go and look at email one more time, binge, or doomscroll. Give it a rest. Real rest.


4 — Play a game with someone. Outside, if possible. Have a catch with a kid. Deal some cards to your mom. If you want, I can explain how to play cribbage. Again. Set up a boardgame. Don’t compete. Don’t bet. Don’t even keep score. Just play.


5 — Read a book you should have but didn’t, or should have finished but didn’t, or haven’t read recently and should reread. The Book of Hours by Ranier Maria Rilke. The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Leguin. Or Heaney’s translation of Beowulf. Plath’s The Bell Jar. Then let’s talk about it. Send me an e-mail with your questions, and I’ll send you one with mine. That seems fair, doesn’t it?


6 — Make something. Anything. An origami stork. A batch of cookies. A drawing on a scrap of paper. Or that Japanese thing where you take a broken bowl or plate and put it back together with gold. Yes, real gold. I must admit that one is a bit much. Rekindle your old whittling skills. Make a walking stick, for when you’re walking around the block. Here, you can borrow my knife. No, I won’t give it to you, because that’s bad luck. But I can sell it to you, which is perfectly OK. Did you know that? Isn’t that weird?