The Pros and Cons of Looking at the World Through Rose Coloured Glasses

Well, this is a subject that has been passing through my mind for the last few days and I have been wondering about the validity of viewing the world with rose tinted glasses.

It causes me some distress to question this way of looking at life, as it disturbs the roots of my philosophy about living life positively.

I have always believed passionately in the theory that a healthy and positive mind has an important and vital effect on our overall wellness, barring the catastrophes that oft times overtake us. With this in mind I endeavour to steer clear of melancholy thoughts, and keep always to the high road, avoiding the Sloughs of Despair as much as possible.

I realize that there is some naivete in viewing the world through a rosy haze, - not facing up to facts, as it were! And so I make a conscious effort to combine my hopefulness and optimism with a strong, and sometimes bitter, dose of realism.
I may never take the rose coloured glasses off, but occasionally I must admit they slip down to the end of my nose and life looks less attractive and pleasant than when they are firmly hooked behind my ears.

I sometimes think that my pleasure in recalling memories of the past, and the pleasant feelings that arise from looking at old pictures, hearing snatches of music from long ago, or catching a whiff of old familiar scents is a direct result of those lovely rose tinted glasses, - and I am grateful for them. The senses they stir make the present seem more worthwhile.

On the other hand, is this nostalgia really valid? Is my memory accentuating the positive, whilst ignoring the negative aspects of life? But then, are the negative aspects really important if they bring unhappiness and dour spirits?

Ann Landers says rose coloured glasses are never made in bifocals, - nobody wants to read the small print in dreams. That gives one pause for thought! Can we ignore the small print and still lead a life that is based on Truth? Or is there such a thing as "Truth"? I am wandering into the world of relativism now, and I have never been a fan of the theory that positives change to suit circumstances.

I don't expect that my questions about the validity of life viewed through rose coloured glasses is going to change the optimism I arise with in the morning and take to bed with me at night. I believe it might be a genetic thing, and not easily dismissed.

Perhaps this questioning might make me more proactive and realistic about many things, but Husband and I are living now in a more confined environment, and our spheres of influences are surely less than they once were.

There is the two of us, (old Darby and Joan) the comforts of our home, the pleasures of those old friends who still inhabit this earth, the things that fulfill us and the joys our family share with us. We live this life day by day and if it takes rose coloured glasses to view each day with optimism and happiness and hope, then so be it!!!!

Up, up with rose coloured glasses! They will sustain us to the end.

What I saw in the old Lost Garden

Rather than stooping to a midnight raid on the awakening forsythia bush, Husband spoke to the new owner, who is only too glad for us to avail ourselves of any of the poor neglected plants in the old Lost Garden.

It crossed my mind that this might perhaps assuage his guilt at the neglect that runs rampant through the garden, but then I thought, - no, he is too honest a man for that. He truly has too much to do and the old Lost Garden is just not one of his priorities. As it would be mine, alas! If I was younger and full of energy I would hire myself out to him as a gardener for a penny a day, just to be able to care for the beautiful plants we left behind.

Husband has been a master pruner all his life, and he kept the shrubs in the Lost Garden according to all the rules of perfect pruning, so that the trees and the bushes were symetrical where they should be symetrical, - flowing, where they should be flowing, and all was in in order to reach the pinnacle of beauty.















Now, as I entered through the gate, the honeysuckle on one side and the trumpet vine on the other reached out to touch me, - overgrown, tangled and confused.

The Star Magnolia and the Tree Peony have not been pruned, - branches crossed each other in awkward directions. The Forsythia is a mass of unpruned suckers, - and further than that I did not venture. I know not how the KoreanVerbenia, the Hibiscus or the Roses fare.





























The forsythia and I communed a bit, and with Husband's shining pruning shears I snipped off a goodly bunch of sticks, - full of buds and promise.

We brought them home and cut them into branches the right size for vases. They are sitting in the bathtub, soaking up the light from the big window, and will soon be golden butterfly blooms. Miss Callie has developed a fascination for this garden in the bathtub, and unless I keep the door closed she is shinnying up the sides of the tub and in amongst these new additions to the tub.














Meanwhile, in the new garden a few bulbs are poking through the ground, but it cries out for attention and I long for a day that is mild enough to go and tackle the old stalks from last year, - to remove them and make room for the tender young shoots that I JUST KNOW are waiting as impatiently as I am on the other side of the bed, for a springtime reunion!