In which I have gurus

Well, shouldn't we all? I can't remember off the top of my head if it was Plato or some other ancient wheezy Greek who said the unexamined life was not worth living, but it's entirely true. What is the point if we don't occasionally check in with ourselves and figure out if we're better than we were the year before? Shouldn't we be evolving, climbing upward in a sort of spiral path taking us higher toward our goals and expectations? Certainly, but it's difficult to get there alone, and frankly, I will take help wherever I can find it.

For years I've read self-help--a genre name I despise, BTW. Personal growth is almost as unspeakable, but it is marginally better. We won't even breathe the words "personal empowerment"...Anyway, I've assembled a group of people who are much wiser than I am, and whose words have very often caused what I call a tectonic plate shift in my thinking, when I read something so meaningful and so powerful I can feel the earth shifting under me and I know I will never be quite the same again.

*Alexandra Stoddard. Her earlier books straddled the line between home decor and decorating the spirit, with some excellent advice about adding luxury into your daily life wherever you can. As her writing style and subject matter evolved, she has tackled some more serious issues, always with grace. She is the only writer to whom I have ever written a reader letter, and I received an astonishingly lovely handwritten letter from her husband by way of reply as she was on a deadline. I have also found innumerable other writers because of her habit of scattering her books with margin quotes.

*Florence Scovel Shinn. The single most empowering (euw, that word again) book I have ever read is Shinn's The Game of Life and How to Play It. I purchased it as part of a four-book, single volume set and devoured it. Shinn was an artist and metaphysician who wrote during the 1920s, preaching abundance thinking long before The Secret. I still don't quite know how to express the massive shift that occurred in my thinking when I read this book, but the phrase "What would Florence do?" has become a regular one in our house.

*SARK. For fun, for colorful inspiration, for feeling like a kid again.

*Isabel Allende. Conversations with Isabel Allende is one of the most riveting books I have ever read. It's a series of interviews with her, and because she never answers the same question the same way, it's extremely revealing. She has the soul of a storyteller, even when answering the most mundane queries about the writing life.

*Sarah Ban Breathnach. With that peculiar synchronicity that sometimes happens between books and readers, each of her books has come at a time when I needed to hear its message. When I reread passages, I am always struck by how vastly different they are. Romancing the Ordinary is by far my favorite, although Simple Abundance utterly changed my life. The latter was a road map for me, the former was a poem.

And you? Who have your gurus been?

In which I am musing on gentlemen

Thanks to the Sartorialist. Scroll down to the entry titled A Graceful Man, A Gentleman. It's a lovely bit of philosophy on being a gentleman. I am a very lucky girl--I live with two extremely fine gentlemen who are very careful to show their graceful ways on a daily basis. What about up and coming gentlemen, I wonder? Are boys being taught to be gracious and thoughtful these days?

In which we still have a dream

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and it is a day worth remembering because there is still work to do and there is still a dream to make real. Dr. King delivered his speech in front of the Lincoln Memorial on August 28, 1963. It was a beautiful, deftly-rendered piece of rhetoric that still resonates today. Here is an excerpt--one that still has the power to move mountains and change hearts:

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

In which we ponder courage

I've been thinking about courage lately--and authenticity, which requires courage. As it so often happens, pondering something calls to the universe and suddenly you're inundated with messages. (Is it a fresh inundation, I wonder? Or is it that you are simply now attuned to things that were there all along?) Anyway, in Thursday's comments section, Journey--a frequent commenter here whose remarks are thoughtful and wise--posted this about a concept called "butterfly courage":

As a caterpillar, the butterfly blends in with its surroundings and isn't noticeable ... then as she grows into her next stage, she builds itself a coccoon (sp), surrounding herself with a thick wall to keep out all the danger ... but then she realizes how confining and limiting those walls are (how they also keep out the good and wonderful) and struggles to break them down, one piece (one brick) at a time ... and emerges, a beautiful butterfly, stronger than ever before because of the struggle ... who is, by the way, more noticeable than she's ever been before, and thus more out-in-the-open to predators and those that would tear her down or apart ... and yet, still she takes the chance and Flies.

Marianne Williamson once said that when she first began her career everyone was very supportive and "atta girl." But when her popularity took off and she came to the attention of the public in a wonderful way, some of the very same people began a "who does she think she is?" kind of program.

Butterfly Courage: the courage to be as beautiful as you are.

I am reposting it because I wanted to make sure everyone saw it, particularly the last line. The courage to be as beautiful as you are. THAT is a powerful idea. It takes guts to live up to your full potential. I have often observed that the minute you raise your head up to be better than average, there is somebody waiting to lop it off. It's like we're moving along--or perhaps mooooooving along--in bovine contentment, placidly munching our way from one field to the next, without ever looking up to see the horizon. Well, here's a note for all of us: if you cannot see the horizon, you cannot get there.

And who wants to be stuck in a field of cowpats with a herd of people who are just like you? Wouldn't it make for a lovely world if everybody were doing their own thing, living authentically, being THEIR best, and not worrying about what other folks were up to? Then we could appreciate one another for our differences and our achievements instead of feeling threatened by them.

But that isn't our world, alas. There are too many people who suffer from the fatal taint of insecurity, withering their own spirits and poisoning the well of creativity for everybody else. These are people who will never reach their own potential and cannot stand to see anybody else reach theirs. Sad, terminal, pitiable, but to be avoided at all costs. Life is either far too long or far too short to live it at the behest of others. Whatever aspirations you have--and look at that word, aspiration. It is related to inspiration, words that link breath and hope, perhaps the two most primitive and essential components of life--and do not be dissuaded by anyone.

Time to trot out my favorite quote, written by Marianne Williamson and used by Nelson Mandela in his inaugural speech:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

So, how will you shine your light?

In which I am pondering

As I told you yesterday, I had a power glitch on Friday and lost some work. (Thank heaven it was revision work and not something completely fresh or I would still be howling.) Anyway, as you know, I've been doing some thinking about personal growth issues, being positive, rejecting stress, yada yada. And then I had my minor catastrophe, which I was not at all surprised by. (It is a truth universally acknowledged, at least by me, that as soon as I undertake to refine myself a wee bit, something comes along to say, "Hey, giving serenity a try? Let's see how it's working for you.")

And it was a struggle to get past it. First off, when I lose work, I get completely enraged in ways that only Bruce Banner would understand. The fact that I could have done one or two things to mitigate the losses beforehand and DIDN'T only made me more inclined to throw breakables. I didn't, but oh, how I longed to.

The second most challenging part is that when people know you're working on self-improvement (a phrase I loathe, but it's late and the original turn of phrase eludes me), is that everyone expects you to snap right out of it. Honestly, I felt a lot more like snapping heads off, but I did figure out a plan of action. Here's what I needed:

1. A sympathetic ear. Sometimes you just need to have someone pat your head and say, "Yes, that was the most catastrophic thing EVER to happen to anyone". And then you can rise above it and be noble and say, "Well, not really, but thank you for understanding".

2. A breather. As it happened, I didn't have much time to work on fixing the losses before I had to leave the house for a doctor's appointment. I came thiiiiiiis close to canceling, but unless I am carrying the ebola virus, I just can't bring myself to cancel a doctor's appointment on short notice. So I went, and getting away from the problem for a little while actually helped.

3. Assessment of the situation with a clear head. Once I was able to see through the red mist of rage, I figured out that the schedule I had for finishing the revisions was unrealistic, particularly after I lost half a day. So, I reworked the schedule by eliminating something I did not actually need to do. Et voila, something completely workable and humane.

4. Playtime. I know. It seems counter-intuitive, but before I settled back in to work, I took a few minutes off. I grabbed a novel, brewed a cup of Irish tea the size of my own head, and settled into the couch for a quarter of an hour of guilt-free reading. I put on my most comfortable and ludicrous pajamas to make me smile, and then went back to my study to get to work.

5. A support system. My parents, who really ought to be given medals of some sort, swung into action, and told me not to worry about picking the girlchild up from school or fixing dinner. They fed me and freed me up to finish the recovery of the work I'd lost.

So, was it a perfect day? Not by a long shot. But it ended up being a productive one, in unexpected ways.

In which I have deep friends

A few days ago on my thread about rejecting stress, my friend Kristy left a very astute comment: "I cannot be everything to everyone." I wanted to make sure everybody saw that because it is a truth that will set you free. You can even say it out loud to make sure it really registers. I CANNOT BE EVERYTHING TO EVERYONE. What a load off our minds, no? If we can't be everything to everyone, that means we don't even have to try. It's unattainable, like trying to scale Everest in a bikini. Not going to happen. In fact, it's downright silly to even contemplate.

But we do want meaningful lives, don't we? Of course we do. And that's why setting priorities is essential. Note, the phrase is "setting" priorities. Setting implies deliberation, thoughtfulness, precision. You can't let priorities happen to you, which is exactly what occurs when you don't examine your life and simply allow things to happen to you. Live is an action verb for a reason. It requires both attention and intention to get it right, to craft the sort of existence you want for yourself.

I know we tend to think in terms of spring cleaning, but I always find the end of the year is the best time to toss out the old to make way for the new, both in terms of possessions and thought patterns. Habits can be weeded out, not with silly New Year's resolutions, but with deliberate practice and quiet conviction. Take inventory of what you have in your life and compare it to the life you want. How far off are you? This can be a tremendous wake-up call to appreciate the life you have or to get going on creating the life you want. You may be much further away from your goals than you think or you may be just about to put a toe on the finish line to goals you've always wanted to achieve. Either way, clear thinking, resolve, and determination will get you there. It's like using a GPS, you have to first know where you want to end up before anyone can tell you how to get there.

So where do you want to be? And since you--as Kristy wisely pointed out--cannot be everything to everyone, who does that free you up to be?

In which I no longer believe in "stress"

Disclaimer: in this post I'm not talking about folks dealing with serious troubles, depression, grief, etc. I am referring to the garden-variety issues we encounter on a daily basis and how we seem to have "whine, moan, and complain" as a default setting these days.

I am not involved with stress anymore. Nope, I'm done. I'm breaking up with stress and no, we can't be friends. Over the past several years--and in particular the last few months--I've done quite a bit of reading about metaphysical things, specifically how worrying and talking about something can create it. (In the South, we call this "talking something up". People swear my friend Pippa has actually killed folks simply by discussing their deaths, but that may be stretching it a bit far.)

Anyway, I started pondering the other day how everybody always says they're doing fine and nobody ever means it. If you scratch the surface, the troubles pour out and it always ends with, "I'm just so stressed." And it finally occurred to me, no, we're not stressed. WE'RE LIVING. The car trouble, the doctors' appointments, the bouts of ill health, the annoying boss, the deadlines and demands are not stressors, they are things that happen. It's how we view them that makes them so.

Example: my husband's schedule occasionally gets crazy. His usual forty-hour work week becomes The Thing That Would Not Die and he starts putting in fourteen-hour days. Now, this is completely normal for his job and it doesn't last forever, but it does come around regular as clockwork. He is always courteous about reminding me that one of those times is about to hit, but with the last one I finally realized those work avalanches are engulfing because I expect them to be. And so does he. He looked at me a few weeks ago and said, "It's fixing to get crazy at work" because we're from Texas and we use "fixing" as a helping verb a LOT. And I said, "No, it's not getting crazy at work because this IS your work." I don't think it is coincidence that this period of long days was easier than previous ones. I expected it to be easier and it was.

So I have started applying that principle to other things and stress is the most far-reaching. We wear stress like a badge of honor these days, as if being stressed means we're busy and productive and virtuous. Sometimes, you know, it just means we're too stupid to say no to things we don't really want to do. And sometimes it means we're too shortsighted to see that this is just the view from here. To-ing and fro-ing is part of the human experience, at least in the 21st century. Ours is the generation that cannot survive without our smartphones and our packed schedules, but I think it's time for a revolution, a slacker revolution.

I'm proposing this, that we slow down, that we stop going and doing and focus on being. That we downsize our lives and focus on what really matters instead of the sound and the fury. That we stop saying we're stressed and start accepting that we're just living. Don't get me wrong, my grandmother's generation didn't talk about stress, but I don't think they were much better off. I knew a fair number of women her age who suffered in silence and went off to smother their feelings and pop "nerve pills" rather than express an opinion or make a demand. I think there has to be a middle road, one where we don't make ourselves crazy nor do we let anybody else have the privilege. So I at least will be watching what I say because what I say I create and I'd rather create some contentment. In fact, I think that will be my new word of choice because all the things that could stress me--taking care of house, family, work, dog--are all things I have CHOSEN to have in my life, things that bring me great happiness. From now on, I'm not stressed. I am content.

In which I'm musing on a truth

I have made no secret of my girl crush on Kimberly Wilson--she's just adorable, and I love how she combines her entrepreneurial endeavors with her spirituality and frosts it all with a big dollop of pink sugar icing. Recently I ran across a quote on her blog that speaks volumes to me in the way that only an immutable truth can do:

"i've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” - maya angelou

Today I'm thinking about my friend Kim. Her energy is warm and embracing, and just being around her makes you feel like you've been hugged. And I'm wondering, who makes YOU feel good?