Propitious

The word for today is PROPITIOUS. I like the way the word sounds. It sounds like something my grandmother would say--either a traditional Yiddishism or one of her potty-mouth variations.

Phonetically, PROPITIOUS (the second syllable is pronounced pish) makes me think of the saying--he didn't even have a pot to piss in or the disgust with which my grandmother might have responded to news of somebody else's supposed accomplishment--pish, who does he think he is anyway.

PROPITIOUS means that something is a good sign or omen; it describes something advantageous or helpful. When I told my father how much I like working for the Census, he said, it sure was PROPITIOUS that I saw the sign for the test. That's the way we speak in my family. My relatives use big words like PROPITIOUS even though they don't believe in signs or omens.

I have often talked about being raised not to believe in anything, being raised without faith. It's not quite accurate to say I was raised not to believe in anything. I was raised to believe in the value of hard work, honesty, and a pure heart (even when it was hard to have one). I was raised to believe in the value of loyalty and intelligence. I was raised to have a spine of strong integrity. I was also raised to believe that it was good to be like the people who raised me--even though I wasn't.

I was raised to be a professional. My ancestors had been bakers, bookbinders, tailors, factory workers. Wasn't it better to work with one's mind than one's hands? Wasn't it better to have a skill, such as being a doctor, lawyer, accountant or engineer, that would bring social recognition and financial security.

After spending the vast majority of my life learning from books or working in an office in front of a computer--I can't do it anymore. I realized that for the last year and a half I've worked outside, with the mailmen and women, the UPS and FedEx deliverers, the utility and construction workers, the lawn and garden service people. Sometimes it's cold and I feel a chill in my bones, sometimes it's windy and tears fall from eyes, sometimes I need to find a coffee shop so I can run in and use the bathroom, but I don't have that awful restlessness, that caged in feeling I had all those years when I worked in an office.

Meeting my friend Becky on the street a few years ago was PROPITIOUS. She hired me as a dogwalker, and now I board dogs at my house as a side business. Seeing the sign for the Census test at the Evanston Civic Center was PROPITIOUS, because I may have found something in which I can think ( just a little) and be outside and talk to people all at the same time.

When all is said and done--though I do not know where I belong, though I take part neither in a Passover seder or an Easter dinner, I do have faith. I have faith that PROPITIOUS things will happen in my life. Like meeting the job coach who dared me to start this blog. Now that was very PROPITIOUS!