Helen Richardson Espy, 1947 – “Granny at 69”
Years ago, when Nyel would give me a hard time about talking to myself — you know, as I went about my home and garden chores — I’d tell him it was because I understood myself better than anyone. Later, toward the end of my teaching career, there was a new educational trend which encouraged “self-talk” for students. Presumably it was a strategy that was especially useful in encouraging positive behaviors. Who knew? I then began quoting positive statistics to my bemused (and ever-quiet) husband.
Decades have passed and my self-talk continues, unabated. I’m not sure about my behaviors. But nowadays, I also sing to myself — often songs from my own Kindergarten and primary school past that I hadn’t thought of for years. This morning it was: How do you do my partner/How do you do today/Will you come a- walking/I’ll show you the way followed by a lot of tra-la-las. I think it was a little circle dance. The singing to myself I put firmly in the category of making “a joyful noise” no matter how it may sound to others.
Mama, Granny, Me — Easter Sunday 1940
Somehow, this morning’s song got me to thinking about my grandmother who also talked and sang to herself. I always thought it was a sign that she enjoyed her own company as well as the company of others. She was blind during most of my childhood and it occurred to me this morning that maybe my own eyesight problems and self-talk are “related” in some way to hers. Do talking and singing to oneself work something like echolocution among bats? Or am I (surely NOT my beloved granny!) just plain batty?
Whatever the answer to that question may be, I’m not about to change my ways. There are dozens of songs to sing and one-sided conversations to enjoy. Lucky you if you already share that belief.
But my question is whether you will start dancing with yourself too.
PS I not only talk to myself, I talk to Jackson (of course!), birds, plants, even the day itself.