I  am an unapologetic Janis Ian fan.  I have a number of her records on vinyl from their original release date.  I sing “Seventeen” in the shower.  I have her CDs, paid for some iTunes downloads, and follow  her on Facebook.

Unsurprising, then, that I should find inspiration in her lyrics:

“I’m still in love — but I don’t care to let you know…./

Something’s there, that doesn’t show — /

But when you’re near — silly habits mean a lot. .  .” The singer laments silly habits, some remembered, some forgotten:  “I used to say I love you/but when day I forgot/silly habits mean a lot.”

In the word of complaining, I’m finding that “silly habits” have always annoyed me.  In restaurants, the woman at the next table slurps her soup.  A judge bangs his pen on the bench when I’m asking questions to which I want him to attend. My son throws bottle caps on the floor of his bedroom. Someone in my building parks their handicapped-accessible van smack dab in the middle of a space allocated for two vehicles.  I grind my teeth.

Even considering my resolve, I still can mention some of these to the offending party.  I tell my son that I do not like it when he throws bottle caps on the floor.  I realize that I’ve just voiced what could be considered a complaint, but I done so  in a way that allows him to disregard what I’ve said or perceive my need for tidiness even in his room, and pick the caps up and throw them away.  I smile and turn toward the hallway, exiting before he makes a choice.

I feel that I’ve made some progress.  I didn’t key the poor parker; I didn’t glare at the slurping patron.

I think about times in the past (two months ago?).  I might have made a smart remark from my smug well-mannered seat; I might have left a snarky note on the windshield; I might have judged my son and voiced that judgment in nasty phrasing, or cast a long, baleful look at the judge who would have then  spent the next five minutes fuming and missed my client’s testimony anyway.  I’m suddenly able to see other choices.  I find myself feeling more peaceful, more able to tolerate the humanity, more aware that we are mirrors, reflecting back what stands in front of us.

I decide that I want my reflection to wear a smile.  Smiling becomes a silly habit.