Yoda's Light-Saber was Actually an Umbrella

"Just let a smile be your umbrella on a rainy, rainy day. And if your sweetie cries, just tell her that a smile will always pay. Whenever skies are grey don't worry or fret, A smile will bring you sunshine and you'll never get wet, So let a smile be your umbrella on a rainy, rainy day." (1)

Mom used to listen to "Gilmore's Albums" on CBC radio every Sunday, as she chopped vegetables or made perogies for the evening meal. The old vinyl recording of this 1927 song by Irving Kahal, Francis Wheeler and Sammy Fain (2) crackled its way over the air waves and into our kitchen one afternoon. I was sixteen. Summoned into domestic duty, I peeled potatoes for a batch of garlic buns she was making. And, I listened. The grainy recording of a warbling and bubbly singer, accompanied by a tinny sounding orchestra, made my cynical teenage mind cringe. I was in a huge depression. A smile? Your Umbrella? Bullshit.

As the years went on, people would tell me, "All you need is a positive attitude," whenever depression would drag me into its dark lair. A positive attitude! Like I could just go and buy that at Safeway, or something. Besides, what was there to be positive about? When you're depressed, all the crayons in your box are black or gray or brown. How can people tell you to draw a positive picture for yourself with that selection of colours to choose from?

Bit by bit, as I got older (and hopefully wiser) I began to realize something. If we let ourselves be open to the messages and lessons the Universe holds, there's a lot of wisdom waiting for us. That hokey song in my Mom's kitchen all those years ago was playing for me. It was telling me to try to reach out of my darkness and see something - anything - positive about my life. I just wasn't listening. Maybe the one positive thing could have been my beautiful dog, Jess. She sensed when I was down, and would tag around after me everywhere I went. Like she was guarding me, trying to keep me safe from myself. Or, maybe, it could have been my best friend, Hetty, who stuck by me no matter what. At the time, I didn't want to see those "umbrellas" in my life. I couldn't. So, I sought comfort in the cookie jar. It was no umbrella. It only made more rain pour down on me.

Sometimes, the negativity which seeks to undermine us appears to come from the outside. From a boss, or a lover, or a relative. In my early twenties, a menacing thunder-cloud rolled into my life. A cloud who would teach me a very important "umbrella" lesson. A Junior High Principal - Morgan Blackwell*.

Back when I started teaching, your second year was an important one. If all went smoothly, you received permanent certification. Normally, this was just a formality. My first year had gone well. I loved my school and had received a great evaluation. The end of the year came and I was bumped by a teacher returning from leave. I found another teaching job. I can do this, I thought. Just work hard like I did at the first school. I should have known something was wrong the very first day of class. One of the teachers simply failed to show up. No call to the office or the sub-desk. No lessons plans left. Nothing. It was as if he deliberately wanted to leave chaos in his wake. Chalking it up to a flaky, unreliable person, I went about starting my own class.

Then, about three weeks after the beginning of the year, it started. My new administrator came in to observe one of my classes. Naturally, I was a bit nervous. Afterward, she called me into her office. She was not pleased. She announced she would start monitoring me constantly from then on. This meant I was always on alert. I could never relax. Whenever, I'd go to the staff-room on a break, she'd walk over to the master-time table and ask, "What class are you teaching next?"

She seemed to want me on edge. Nervous. Scared. And, she had me too. Fears about my future and doubts about my abilities flooded my brain. Morgan was the only person standing between me and my certification. I had to jump through her hoops. No matter how high or how many. I began to resent my work and detest her. My every waking hour was spent either planning for classes or worrying to the point of exhaustion. She'd sit in the back of my class-room and take reams and reams of notes. Sometimes, she'd just "tusk, tusk," loud enough for all to hear. I was beside myself. How could I have been so successful one year, and a miserable failure the next? I only came to find out later, this woman's goal in life was to crush the egos and careers of as many young teachers as she could. Why? I do not know. She liked it better if they'd crumble and leave before the end of the year. In fact, the year I taught under her, two other young teachers who had joined the staff with me, were drummed out of the profession altogether.

As each week progressed, I grew to hate her. Really hate her. As I gave into this anger, my health went from bad to worse. I gained 60 pounds in six months. I caught every flu and virus and cold going around. One day, I even had a seizure. After six months of this treatment, my body and mind were at the breaking point. Then, she called me into her office to deliver her final evaluation.

No certification. The evaluation was scathing. It didn't matter how much I'd done, or how hard I'd worked. It simply didn't count. I felt the weight of her pewter-coloured eyes upon me, as I read through the document. Something inside said she wanted to see me crack. I couldn't. I wouldn't. A calm came over me. I picked up the pen. And, signed the paper. I quietly thanked her. And, walked out the door.

That night the calm remained. All of a sudden, none of it mattered any more. She had my certification, but she couldn't have me. Or, my career. I still had to finish the year though - three more months. From that place of total emotional resignation, a thought came to me. In order to survive her, I needed to feel love for her - not hate.

How could this be? Suddenly, I was the same cynical teenager peeling potatoes back in my Mom's kitchen. Bullshit! How can you feel love for someone who wants to destroy you? How? Yet, I couldn't shake that calm and certain feeling. Just be positive. Let go of the negativity.

I had nothing to lose. The next day, I held my head high, smiled and was pleasant. At first, I felt like an academy award-winning actress. I was scared. Part of me bristled at doing this. Trying to conjure up positive thoughts about her was like looking for a diamond ring in a pig-pen. I'd play games with my mind. "Find something positive about her today - even if it's just what she's wearing, or the way she keeps discipline in the hall." Anything. Little by little, it started to work. My heart started to soften. It didn't mean I let my guard down. It just meant I didn't let the justifiable anger I had consume me.

After about a month, something strange began happening. My health started to improve. I still was under considerable stress. She had yet to determine whether I'd get a job the next year or not. But, the positivity seemed to have melted the stress surrounding those worries. What's more, Morgan who never, ever fell ill - who prided herself on her health - who used to make comments about the time other staff members took off - found herself really sick. At first, she developed a severe cold. That cold then grew into a sinus infection. One day, she stumbled into the staff-room moaning, "I've never been this sick. Nothing seems to be working." I expressed genuine concern for her. And, believe it or not, I actually felt it. It wasn't until later that evening something profound dawned on me.

Once I'd decided to embrace a positive and loving attitude toward her, it was like an invisible shield enveloped me. While I was giving into feeling angry and negative, it was like I had been feeding her, strengthening her. When I counter-acted her negativity with positive and loving thoughts, it weakened her influence on me. I went from powerless to powerful just by surrendering - letting go of my anger and changing my attitude. And remember, anger is just fear dressed up in a gorilla-suit! Embracing love had empowered me. I made it through the remainder of the year, and went to another school, where I received my certification and a stellar evaluation.

I realized an incredible lesson. If you hate your oppressor you make him stronger, and ultimately that hate will destroy you too. Even if your anger is 150% justified, the more you hang on to it, the more it hurts you. That is the same lesson taught by Ghandi and Martin Luther King. We are all capable of the same composure and wisdom as these great men. They transcended fear to accomplish amazing things. We are just as capable of putting the principles of non-violence and loving kindness into practice in small and quiet ways in our own everyday lives.

Now, how does that apply when you're facing inner demons? Your Greatest Fears? Perhaps, you're even suffering from a severe physical or mental impairment? It's pretty tough to grasp at anything positive when you can't even move off the couch or dress or feed yourself. I faced this very dilemma a month ago. My brain chemicals had let me down - again - robbing me of the ability even to write. Normally, when I'm down, I can try to write my way out. This time, my brain just couldn't function. For a while, I gave into negative thoughts. This has been a long, hard battle. I feared I'd never get better. Anger consumed me. I hated my brain - my body - everything. "Why? Why was this happening again? Now? And to me?" What helped was a little humour.

In his book, Shambhala - The Sacred Path of the Warrior, Chogyan Trungpa, the highly regarded Buddhist writer and teacher, defines humour the following way, "Humour here does not mean telling jokes or being comical or criticizing others and laughing at them. A genuine sense of humour is having a light touch: not beating reality into the ground but appreciating reality with a light touch." He goes on to say, "The way you comb your hair, the way you dress, the way you wash your dishes - all of those activities are an extension of sanity, they are a way of connecting with reality." (3)

What I had to do was gently appreciate the small things in my life at that moment - hanging on to the parts of my world which were an extension of my sanity - my reality. My little dog, Kelsey, who like Jess before him, stayed beside me on the couch or in bed. I didn't have the energy or imagination to feed myself, but I managed to fill his bowls with water and food. A small way of connecting with reality. The touch of my daughter's hand in mine - another connection. Some music she put on for me. Yet, another. And, most importantly, a phrase I kept saying over and over, "Depression is not me. I am not this depression." Seeing even the smallest rays of positivity around you in the midst of whatever crisis you find yourself in, is like clinging onto a valuable life-preserver.

My favourite Buddhist Master, Yoda, says, "Beware of the dark side. Anger . . . Fear . . . Aggression . . . The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight." (4) If you give in to your negative feelings, you will soon trade all your umbrellas in for rain clouds. Hang on. Go inside. The loving voice which lives inside all of us will guide you to reach for one positive thing to cherish. Once you find one, look for another. Then, another. Each little loving and positive aspect of your life will neutralize some of the negative. A smile might not be your umbrella, but a gentle and loving attitude, especially with yourself, is a step in the right direction.

- Catherine Dale (spring 2002)


(1) see "Let a Smile be Your Umbrella," at the Lyrics Search Engine website (http://search.lyrics.astraweb.com/?word=let+a+smile+be+your+umbrella)

(2) see Sammy Fain at the Song Writers Hall of Fame Website (http:/songwritershalloffame.org/exhibit-home-page.asp?exhibitId=50)

(3) Chogyam Trungpa, Shambhala - The Scared Path of the Warrior, (Bantam Books, NewYork, 1984) pp. 11-12

(4) see Star Wars Quotes at (www.someguy.com/quotes/starwars.html)