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June 2010
Talismans of my Life
Newsletter Archive
Did you ever search for a 4-leaf clover? Carry a rabbit’s foot, shark tooth or worn a cross, star of David or St. Christopher’s medal? What about wishing on stars or sticking pins in a voodoo doll? These are just a few examples of items that are commonly believed to bring us luck and protect us. Even the most cynical among us has probably at least knocked on wood or thrown salt over his/her shoulder. Being merely mortal, there are times when a little magic (or belief therein) calms our frazzled souls or, at least, allows us to laugh at our desire to be rescued by mystical rituals.
Sometimes, quite ordinary objects acquire supernatural powers. Otherwise, why would someone spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on Michael Jackson’s sequined glove or Princess Diana’s dresses? It’s as if the owner’s essence has permeated the object and in our fantasies the characteristics that person possessed are magically passed on to us.
My talismans would not strike anyone but me as unique and valuable. Yet, I treasure them and would never consider discarding them. We are moving to a different home this summer, so this has been the perfect time to throw out the 40 or so lipsticks that I thought I might use again and, of course, never did and to give away the really cute shoes that always gave me blisters. Weeding out the gems from the zircons is not particularly painful for me & I think I’ve neglected to do that regularly because I can always find something more interesting to do with my time. This process has brought me face to face with objects I didn’t even remember that I had, but would rather walk on hot coals than relinquish.
The highest order of talisman, for me, is a pile of my father’s old cotton handkerchiefs (do you remember when people carried those?). I have kept a stash of said handkerchiefs since I was 7 years old. That was the summer I went to overnight camp for the first time. I did well until Visiting Day. I was always Daddy’s girl and when the time came for my father to leave, I literally climbed up on him in my efforts to delay his departure. He must have wiped my tears with his handkerchief, which I kept, put under my pillow, and fell asleep with it in my hand every night. Over the years his handkerchiefs have been a direct line to him and always connect me to a feeling of “all‘s right with the world“.
When I ran across my supply of his hankies in the back of a drawer, as I was purging my bedroom of unnecessary items, I couldn’t help but smile and, of course, think of my Dad. Those handkerchiefs will follow me in my travels for the rest of my life; I actually re-experience the feelings of peace that emanated from my father’s very presence every time I press one of them to my cheek.
The memento that brings my mother to mind is a red, shawl -collared cardigan that she knitted for me, I’m guessing, when I was in junior high school. If you’ve ever read an “Archie” comic book, you’ll know exactly what it looks like. I don’t remember even particularly liking that sweater or wearing it very often. I don’t know why that sweater became endowed with special powers in my mind, but, I know I will never give it away. That sweater stands for my mother’s feistiness and “don’t mess with me” attitude that has become a core part of my persona.
Additional items that seem to follow me everywhere are a quilted satin glove box (I don’t know if they make those any more) filled with my good white calfskin gloves (you never know when I might be invited to attend a garden party); my first ballet slippers, which were stained with peacock blue ink when I was in high school; a braid of my hair that was hacked off during my first serious haircut. It’s a strange collection, but, along with all of my photograph albums these are among my most cherished belongings.
My childhood, like yours, was far from uncomplicated. One of the benefits of growing up with my parents was that I always felt safe. Even when things went terribly wrong, I had confidence that ,between them, my Mom and Dad would find a way to make things right. Things were far from perfect, but, I always felt protected. So, I suppose, that that particular memory is the last of my essential amulets. These memories shield me as I navigate this strange, unpredictable route that I have chosen as my life.
I firmly believe that whatever brings us comfort and confidence, as long as it is not harmful, is worth holding on to. I know the charmed elements that help me to endure tough times and sticky situations will be in my baggage, wherever I go. We all could use a lucky charm now and again.
"Love and magic have a great deal in common. They enrich the soul, they delight the heart. And they both take practice." Anonymous
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