As you read this I will be sitting (pen in hand, of course, I am a copious notetaker) in the exquisite Capital Theatre listening to some of my favourite authors talk about writing, their books and the whole glorious mess that is the art of words at the Bendigo Writers Festival. I am so glad to be here!!!
The theme of the 2023 festival is Such Is Life. I grew up in North East Victoria surrounded by the myth that is Ned Kelly and the Kelly Gang. Glenrowan was an easy school excursion and we absorbed the story, as we did so many tales told from one side of Aussie history, with awe and horror and a type of hero worship. There was always a confused tickle in my mind that recognised the dissonance of the valour of the bushranger with an abhorrence of violence but that was easily assuaged by the Robin Hood explanation. Stole from the rich to give to the poor or corrected an injustice or righted a wrong… so we knew that, on balance, what those bushrangers did was a good thing.
That dissonance never really went away…
The times, they are a’changing, and we are finding the courage to lift the lid on things we accepted as fact and wondering if there is more to the story. We know that who gets to tell the tale to history determines the story we repeat. All those voices we never got to hear – the women, the poor, the uneducated, the First Nations people – all of these members of society whose voices were never heard took with them the missing pieces of what would be the more complete story. That’s a whole other (enormous, crucial, important) thing to think about. Perhaps too much for today when I’m enjoying the luxury of hours of book talk. Suffice it to say, our history celebrating bushrangers is just a wee bit fraught.
If you’re curious about Ned Kelly and the debate about the rights and wrongs and what really happened there are lots of books out there. Some popularise to the point of fiction, others are researched and presented more objectively.
We were taught that Ned Kelly said Such is Life as he went to his death. We finished our Primary school years taught by those famous last words that life is not fair, that it is what it is. Fairness isn’t a concept that can actually be applied to the realities of life, is it? The kids and I still debate it. In so many ways I am a Pollyanna-type optimist. Everything will be ok in the end. There is always a way through. We can find a middle ground.
The current version of fairness seems to be less realistic. Everyone ‘should’ have the same opportunities, we’re all winners, everyone gets a ribbon for participation… It’s left many with an inability to see compromise and negotiation as a strength, the middle ground as a win, loss as a chance for growth. It’s a version of resilience I am continually aspiring to master, hence my 50 rejections project .
It was Pollyanna who taught me my version of optimism. Everything will be ok in the end. There is always a way through. We can find a middle ground. It comes from her Glad Game. Do you know it? It’s a beautiful version of what we now know to be a gratitude practice.
She’s actually made me glad for Monday mornin’s.
Glad – for Monday mornings!
Nancy laughed.
I know it does sound nutty, ma’am. But let me tell ye. That blessed lamb found out I hated Monday mornin’s something’ awful, an’what does she up’n tell me one day but this: “Well, anyhow Nancy, I should think you could be gladder on Monday morning’ than on any other day in the week, because t‘would be a whole week before you’d have another one!”
Pollyanna (Eleanor H Porter)
I love Pollyanna’s Glad Game!!!
In the last couple of years I have found myself returning to her simple approach to find the silver lining in all sorts of things. So glad we have enough space at home (during lockdown). So glad we get to go to work (during Covid shutdowns). So glad we live in the country. So glad I get to take time to write. So glad I get to be old enough to have wrinkles.
To find that favourite quote of mine I had to first go find my copy of Pollyanna on the bookshelf and then sit and revisit the story. Such a thing to have to do (you know I loved it, don’t you!)!
I love sitting amongst the bookshelves and just gazing at the spines of my books. It’s a little trip down memory lane. Usually when I do that a book magically appears in my hand urging to be reread. Sometimes it’s one that I adore and have read so many times I could sit and type the entire thing from memory. The Harp In The South. What Katy Did. Little Women. Under the Tuscan Sun. They’ve become part of my DNA. Other times it’s something that is calling for a refreshed adventure. I’ve just reread Brit-Marie Was Here as if I had never seen it before in my life and loved it as if for the first time.
Do you do this?
It’s a risk, rereading. There’s a worry that it won’t be exactly as I recall or that it will somehow have lost the sparkle I remember it having. Phew, Pollyanna still brought me joy even with a quick trip through the pages.
Then I went onto the internet to find a reference for Pollyanna and went down the rabbit hole. There is such a thing called the Pollyanna mindset. Ugh. There is a dark side to Pollyanna-like optimism, so much so there is even a diagnostic use of the name. Pollyanna syndrome is where someone focuses on the positive and refuses to see or ignores the negatives (often reality). Some of the sparkle of my memories just dulled.
Such is life.
Sitting here at the Writers Festival where ideas and words are floating through the air and the bookshop beckons I am very aware of how lucky I am right here and right now. I choose to play Pollyanna’s Glad Game. I am well enough aware of all the difficult things out and around at the moment and, yes, I choose not to send my energy in their direction. Their time always comes! But that time is not today. I am glad, glad, glad! to be able to have the time to indulge my love of the literary world and even more thankful for the pocket money tucked away to let me bring home a couple of these beauties to join my home library. They will get their stamp showing just where they belong tonight.
Play the Glad Game. It’s not easy to begin with until it is. Let me know how you go?
