A Small, Joyful Retreat
{Photo taken by Pixie Campbell}
We have two lucky winners of Mary Anne Radmacher’s latest book Live With Intention: Rediscovering What We Deeply Know from her guest post last week: Jennifer B. and Tracy! Thank you to everyone who participated in the conversation and thank you Mary Anne!!
Today’s agenda: A walk along the beach, a small stack of books, a visit with a friend, a deep and healing sleep.
“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
Rumi
Little Clues
Now begins a time of openness ~ a time to let myself wander a wee bit aimlessly, build my confidence in the kitchen, travel, write, and see what comes up. Now that I don’t have a book deadline to fixate on, there is more room to notice those little bits of my day that stand out and rise above the others, the ones I continue to think about long after they’ve whisked past me. In keeping my senses open to all of these little treasures, I am also able to recognize the interconnectedness of all of them ~ how cooking dinner for my husband is related to training Tilda. How indulging in a little post-book deadline shopping spree ~ which I wrote about over at Rock Red Shoes ~ is related to my work as a writer, and my next book in particular.
After spending almost an hour with me, helping me find a few new goodies I’m mad about, the saleswoman asked what I did. I explained I was an artist and a writer, and that I had just submitted the final manuscript for my latest book the day before. She asked what the book was about, and I gave her what is fast becoming my “elevator pitch”:
It is about different aspects of creating a meaningful life, and how when you do that for yourself it is the best thing you can do for the world.
This woman was young, and gorgeous, and working in a hip LA boutique, and when she heard my description her shoulders dropped down a bit, she paused, looked at me, and said, “I need to read that book right now.” This all happened in an instant ~ in an imperceptible flash of time that no one else around us noticed in the midst of shopping bags unfolding, tissue paper crinkling, and plastic hangers being stacked together. Beyond the row of sparkling jewelry that sat in front of the cash register, in front of a display of fat, overpriced candles all lined up like little colorful soldiers, I felt this woman’s deep longing for that unexplainable something we humans always seem to be in search of. We didn’t talk much more about it, but I continued to think about the way her face softened in that moment.
There is so much available to us ~ in bookstores, churches, e-courses, websites, lectures, workshops, and documentary films ~ offering doorways, pathways, highways, and bi-ways towards fulfillment. So much as to be incomprehensible. But still, the idea of something that might be able to offer a tiny shred of inspiration or guidance fills people with a unique kind of wonder and longing. I got a similar reaction last night during dinner with friends ~ as soon as they heard the description of my book it was, “We will be buying four copies ~ one for us and for every member of our family,” said with an ever so slightly more serious tone than what was said before and after. These are tiny moments, with subtle changes in posture and voice, and I am recording all of them ~ little clues as to how I might be able to share what I’ve created in the gentlest, most open-hearted way possible, reminders that the work I’m doing is needed. Little nuggets of inspiration I will collect and carry with me until the time comes to lay them all out like tarot cards and see what they have to say when I am holding the book in my hands.
“Creativity in your work comes from your mind. The idea of work being creative is that the mind can connect with the sharpness or the inspiration within any situation. There is always something acute and precise happening in a situation, which can lead you to other possibilities. It is seeing that every step contains possibilities of furthering whatever your process is.” ~Chogyam Trungpa
Celebrate Seeing the Door to Change
I am excited and honored to introduce today’s Guest Blogger ~ Mary Anne Radmacher. I have written about her on numerous occasions, most notably on a Five Things entry devoted entirely to her inspirational goodness. I sometimes have to pinch myself over the fact that I’ve developed connections with women who inspired me for years before we met. Meeting and getting to know Mary Anne has been one of the greatest joys I’ve experienced in this regard, as she is a woman who lives – day in and day out – according to her values, beliefs, and ideals.
Mary Anne’s latest book is Live With Intention: Rediscovering What We Deeply Know, and if you haven’t seen it yet, enter a comment for today’s post for a chance to win one of two copies available for a Give Away. All comments entered through this Friday, February 25th will be in the drawing, and two winners will be announced next Monday.
And now ~ drum roll please ~ the magnificent Mary Anne Radmacher…
Many of us march through life announcing we want control, don’t take well to change, and don’t like surprises. This is a formula for continual struggle. The soil of struggle is the playground for change. And if you’ve ever seen a single flower blooming in a crack it has pushed through cement—or a wildflower blossoming in the snow—then you know life is full of surprises. A promotion. Children losing their lives before their parents. A gift delivered unexpectedly. An unkind word. Surprises are like licorice: they come in many different colors.
I celebrate seeing the door to change. Seeing the opportunity helps me be less resistant to it. Viewing myself as a perennial student informs me that I have so much to learn. I used to listen to anyone saying almost anything, nodding my head and asserting, “I know. I know.” I was seeking the stamp of approval for already knowing what they were trying to tell me. I have come to recognize the value of not knowing. Of listening to words and wondering, even if they are familiar, if I can hear something new in their lyrics. I am breathless, too, at the door of change swinging open and hitting me on the nose. I keep my eyes on that door—so I can happily walk toward it and help it open.
Major-league Wonderful
{Photo taken in Copenhagen last year.}
It has been sent ~ the first “final” draft of my manuscript:
10 Chapters, each with an average of 9 rounds of revisions
8 Stories
4 Blog excerpts
20 Contributors
239 images
32,000+ words
There is still much editing, designing, tweaking, and adjusting to be done, but today: I will celebrate.
Today’s date has been in my brain ever since this incredible opportunity was offered to me at the end of last summer. Now that it has arrived, and I have done my job, I feel inspired to do nothing more than go downstairs, finish my laundry, and get the ingredients I need for tonight’s dinner. Sounds mundane, I know, but that is what I have been craving ~ that simplicity, those quiet tasks. And in my heart, in that part of me that makes me weepy as I write this, I am beyond grateful ~ absolutely beyond grateful.
With so much gratitude filling every inch, crack and crevice of this moment, this day, I will once again turn to Hafiz, who I have been sharing all over the place these past few days. I never fail to find exactly what I am looking for when I open the pages of The Gift, and today is no exception.
You’re It
God
Disguised
As a myriad of things and
Playing a game
Of tag
Has kissed you and said,
“You’re it -
I mean, you’re really IT!”
Now
It does not matter
What you believe or feel
For something wonderful,
Major-league Wonderful
Is someday going
To
Happen.
Final Steps
I am almost there ~ almost ready to send everything in, lock, stock, and barrel. A few more items on my checklist and then on Tuesday, February 22nd, not a day early or a day late, everything will be sent to my editor. I won’t say “whew” yet, but believe me, after I’ve dropped off the UPS Overnight envelope I most certainly will. After I posted my last entry, which chronicled the zillion distractions that pulled me in as many directions during the first part of last week, I got focused, and Thursday and Friday were all about the book.
I need to keep that focus intact, but wanted to at least share another one of my favorites from my favorite ~ Hafiz. I’ll be back in action here on Wednesday, and have two very exciting guest bloggers lined up this week. In the meantime, I’ve written a story for Tracey Clark’s I Am Enough project, and tomorrow my February post at Gypsy Girl’s Guide will be up.
Courteous to the Ant
God
Blooms
From the shoulder
Of the Elephant
Who becomes
Courteous
To
The
Ant.
~Hafiz
Life of a Writer
Lest you harbor the illusion that I am spending this final week before my book deadline in a sparkling flow of devoted work that occurs with no distractions or deviations, I’m writing today to shed light on this, my final days before the book is due.
Monday, T minus eight days
Start the day by getting the house back in order after a big family dinner Sunday night and the departure of our weekend house guest.
Dishes, laundry, re-arranging, and all around tidying up.
Get to work on the book in the afternoon, finish another round of edits on all nine completed chapters, and start chapter ten.
Fix dinner, clean up, read, go to bed.
Tuesday, T minus seven days
Get woken up by my husband’s coughing (an ongoing back and forth issue in our household lately) in the middle of the night.
Decide to simply “go with it” and not resist the fact that I was wide awake. Put this time to incredibly good use by looking up old boyfriends on Facebook.
Go back to bed. Toss and turn until my husband’s alarm goes off, earlier than usual for a flight to the east coast.
Get up, drive him to the airport.
Return to find my home in the process of being taken over by scaffolding, the result of our hair-brained decision to re-paint the house. Walk inside to the high-pitched buzzing of power sanders and pressure washers going full blast all over our house.
Decide today is the day! To catch up on Etsy orders, run five errands, drag my easel back into my studio, iron, put away the laundry I started Monday, repair the back of a piece of framed artwork Tilda decided was tasty, clear out the guest bedroom closet, and start to re-assemble my giant bulletin board with inspiring images. Oh, and have an hour+ long Skype chat and two phone calls.
Crawl into to bed, and think about the fact that I’ve basically been awake since 2:30am, yet somehow never hit a wall of exhaustion. Watch episodes of Modern Family on Hulu and think about Ed O’Neill saying hello to Tilda outside our neighborhood grocery store (really!)
Notice anything missing from my day?
Oh right ~ that would be the book.
Wednesday ~ T minus six days
Get woken up by the Tilda Bear, roused from an incredibly deep sleep that likely would have gone on for at least two more hours.
Wonder how many responses I would get for a blog post offering a free puppy.
Pull myself out of bed, grab a blanket, and curl up on the floor while Tilda romps around, happy she got me up. Decide to give it up when she steps on my head.
Spend the morning catching up on emails, bills, and filing.
Also work on paperwork for upcoming trip to China. Steps needed to be taken: Print credit card authorization form, sign it, scan it. Scan driver’s license, passport, and front and back of credit card. Try emailing all images to travel agent at once, but server won’t allow it, so send each of the scans one at a time. Print out Chinese Visa application. Fill it out. Fill out online Chinese Visa application application (yes I meant to type that twice), print out, and get it ready to send to Visa Express with both forms, my passport and a 2″ x 2″ photo.
Send flight itinerary to travel agent, as well as full legal name.
During this time previously mentioned power sanders are being used right outside my window. High-pitched. Buzzing. Good times.
After some time, suddenly realize Tilda is nowhere to be seen. Walk out of my studio to find her chewing vigorously next to a bagel-sized half circle chewed out of the edge of our rug.
Wonder how many responses I would get for a blog post offering a free puppy.
Eat lunch. Take a shower. Play with Tilda.
Work! On the book!
Take Tilda for a walk.
Work! On the book!
Feel more inspired to go to bed than fix dinner. Write blog post while Tilda fusses and whines and begs for attention.
Husband returns. All is right with the world.
{To be continued…}
Every Step
{Photo taken in Tokyo last month.}
“Creativity in your work comes from your mind. The idea of work being creative is that the mind can connect with the sharpness or the inspiration within any situation. There is always something acute and precise happening in a situation, which can lead you to other possibilities. That quality of mind connecting with the potential could be called imagination, I suppose, but it’s not dreamy imagination; it’s practical imagination. It is seeing that every step contains possibilities of furthering whatever your process is. That includes your contribution and the whole environment around that particular job. There is room to learn, room to develop.”
~ Chogyam Trungpa, Work Sex Money: Real Life on the Path of Mindfulness
The Promise
{Photo taken by Pixie Campbell}
I am heading into the last week before I turn in my book, savoring this time to go through one more round of revisions, edits, and a bird’s eye view of the whole thing. I don’t feel frantic, crazed, super super busy, or up against a wall. I feel good. Good as in solid, on schedule, comfortable with what I’ve created, unsure about what the editing process will be like, curious to know how I’ll feel once the goods have been delivered and I’m a free agent. The book will come back to me a few more times before it is sent off to be printed, but not until a couple of months after I deliver my manuscript.
I made a commitment from the first day I began writing the book to never ever sit down to work on it from a place of stress, anxiety, or fear. Anytime I began to freak out about my deadlines (believe me, I had my moments), wonder if what I was writing wasn’t just a big pile of mumbo jumbo, or got wound up over something entirely unrelated to my book but that I decided would somehow derail it, I refused to work on my book. I stayed away from my computer and chapter print outs until I could sit down calmly, peacefully, and able to give it my full attention.
I cannot stress enough how well this worked. That one commitment ~ to work on the book if and only if my heart, mind, and body were free of any kind of angst whatsoever ~ set the stage for the entire process, and it served me well in those moments when I worried I wouldn’t be able to pull this off. Incredibly well. Because with that commitment came something equally as important ~ trust in the process and in myself. If I stuck to my original promise, that meant I had no choice but to trust the process of the book. It meant that when I spent an afternoon doing something other than write the book, it was with a deep trust that whatever I was doing was not taking anything away from the book, but in its own way supporting it. This promise that I made to myself was the soft pile of leaves that I could always jump into and fall back on during any moments of frustration, worry, or panic. No matter what was sending my mind into a tailspin, I had somewhere to go ~ I had that very first promise, the promise I made the day I began working on the book, and never lost sight of, not even for a moment.
“Our promises become the anchor in a storm. The point toward which we travel while keeping our eyes fixed on the horizon line, not the bumps in the road in front of us.” ~Mary Anne Radmacher
Engagement
{Art day with my family, taken last December.}
I’m not exactly sure what inspired me to shift my approach to living mindfully, creatively, and spiritually a little while back. Perhaps it was the Tilda invasion, which threw my routines into such a tizzy that I’m still not quite back on solid ground, or maybe there was something in particular about my deepening awareness and release of the pressure I have put on myself to be Superwoman. Maybe the layers I shed last fall had a unique quality to them, which opened my eyes to a different way of approaching my day to day life. Or if not entirely different, perhaps a purer expression of what I had already been putting into practice.
What has happened over the past many months ~ and as I write this I can say it absolutely started around the time Tilda joined our family ~ is that my engagement with my daily life has become more deeply centered around my home, my marriage, and our family. This has been an ongoing process for many years, so it is easy to see that the flowers that have only recently begun to bloom sprang from seeds planted long ago. And while it seems like a strange, absurdly obvious thing to state ~ that my daily life is centered around my home, marriage, etc. (duh!), what I am really trying to say is that instead of feeling like I have to express, give, and even prove my goodness, worth, creativity, and positive intentions in specific, compartmentalized ways, I’m learning that all I need to do is live my life according to these values and engage fully in every part of of my life. Which means I don’t try to rush through my errands so that I can get back to my “real work” ~ which, for a long time, I defined as work that was seen and appreciated by the greatest number of people, thereby giving it the most validation. The problem was, this raised the question: “According to whose standard was this so-called validation?”
Once I began to more consciously consider every part of my daily life as contributing to my “most important” work, I began to see everything differently. I saw that picking lemons from the tree in my front yard was rooted to the exact same tree as my work as a writer; I recognized that taking good care of my family was the same thing as taking care of the world. There was no question that the trip I took yesterday to spend an afternoon with a friend was absolutely, positively contributing to my book ~ the book that is due in less than two weeks. Everything is connected ~ all steps are taken on the same path.
Don’t get me wrong ~ I still have my moments, moments when I fantasize about the house burning down (after rescuing Tilda, family photos, and my hard drive, of course) and being able to “start over” with as little as possible. I still sometimes imagine how magnificently free and easy my life could be if I only had myself to answer to and care for. There are days when wake up cranky and resent the never-ending piles of dishes, laundry, and dog poo. I have days when I want nothing more than to shut the world OFF. But when the tension eases and I allow these feelings to move through me, I make my way back to that place of engagement ~ with all of it, every bit of it, every ounce.
Every once in a while I feel downright fearful of the calm this has created in my life ~ does this mean I’ve lost my mojo? Does this mean I don’t care enough, am not driven enough, and will therefore not be inspiring enough? Am I living my life to the fullest if I am not putting myself out in the world in as many ways as possible, taking advantage of every opportunity that comes to me? But when I sit still with those questions, and observe them as quietly as I can, the answers are always the same ~ no, no, and no. My mojo hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it has expanded to the point of bursting. It has infiltrated more of my life than ever before, and settled beautifully into a deep, consistent pulse that feeds my soul and therefore feeds the world.
“If you regard yourself as a person on the spiritual path, then whatever you do is part of the path, an expression of the path.” ~Chogyam Trungpa
The Smallest Action
“…the smallest action or everyday activity can be either an expression of simplicity and wakefulness or a source of chaos, pain, and confusion.”
~ From the introduction to Work Sex Money: Real Life on the Path of Mindfulness by Chogyam Trungpa, which I’ve just started reading
