Things NOT To Worry About…Advice From F. Scott Fitzgerald

Exam results day transports us all straight back to that moment where we picked up our own results.

It’s a strange day, one full of different emotions – mostly anxiety and worry.

Which reminded me of this wise list of things to worry, not worry, and think about.

In 1933 F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote this letter to his 11 year old daughter who was away at camp. I think that it really puts things in perspective, no matter what your age or your current worries.

La Paix, Rodgers’ Forge
Towson, Maryland

August 8, 1933

Dear Pie:

I feel very strongly about you doing duty. Would you give me a little more documentation about your reading in French? I am glad you are happy — but I never believe much in happiness. I never believe in misery either. Those are things you see on the stage or the screen or the printed pages, they never really happen to you in life.

All I believe in in life is the rewards for virtue (according to your talents) and the punishments for not fulfilling your duties, which are doubly costly.

Things to worry about:

Worry about courage
Worry about Cleanliness
Worry about efficiency
Worry about horsemanship
Worry about…

Things not to worry about:

Don’t worry about popular opinion
Don’t worry about dolls Continue reading “Things NOT To Worry About…Advice From F. Scott Fitzgerald”

A snapshot of the past…

A box of old letters and photos

I’m fascinated by boxes of letters, photographs of people I don’t know and the scribblings of other people’s diaries. I have no idea why, I’m just attracted to them, like a moth to a flame.

But there’s also a sadness when I see these things.

Today we went to an auction house, just to have a nose and a poke around. One lot was a draw full to bursting of letters, newspaper clippings and random photos. I was in love. I spent at least 45 minutes rooting through this tiny little box, trying to get a picture of what these people were all about.

Then it struck me. All these memories and little snippets of history are sat in a cold, draughty, auction space separated from the families to which they belong.

The other thing I stumbled across was a book which was given to the recipient in 1936 by her grandmother. It was a beautiful, old book that had various photographs of the family inside. I wanted to know more.

Does anyone else get sucked in to other people’s memories? Just what is it about the every day life of strangers that’s so fascinating?

More finds…
More auction finds

More auction finds