Love and Time

Once upon a time there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love.

One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love. Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing Love in a grand boat. Love said, “Richness, can you take me with you?” Richness answered, “No, I can’t. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you.”

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. “Vanity, please help me!” “I can’t help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat,” Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, “Sadness, let me go with you.” “Oh….Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself.”

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly there was a voice, “Come, Love, I will take you.” It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going.

When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder, Love asked Knowledge, another elder, “Who helped me?” “It was Time,” Knowledge answered. “Time?” asked Love. “But why did Time help me?” Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered…

“Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is.”

Merry Christmas.

Life is No Brief Candle

I re-read Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw this past weekend, and in my notes was this beautiful quote by Shaw himself. Happy Labor Day Monday, let’s move to Spooky Season, shall we?

This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; to be thoroughly worn out before being thrown on the scrap heap.

Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.

I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole world and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live.

I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.

Thoughts on Purpose

Yes, I’m going to plagiarize again. Gimme a break, my semester is starting, and I’m up to my neck in clerical tasks. So here is a lovely quote from the late Mr. Wayne Dyer:

Somewhere, buried deep within each of us, is a call to purpose. It’s not always rational, not always clearly delineated, and sometimes even seemingly absurd, but the knowing is there. There’s a silent something within that intends you to express yourself. That something in your soul telling you to listen and connect through love, kindness, and receptivity to the power of intention. That silent inner knowing will never leave you alone. You may try to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, but in honest, alone moments of contemplative communion with yourself, you sense the emptiness, waiting for you to fill it with your music. It wants you to take the risks involved, and to ignore your ego and the egos of others who tell you that an easier, safer, or more secure path is best for you.

Ironically, it’s not necessarily about performing a specific task or being in a certain occupation or living in a specific location. It’s about sharing yourself in a creative, loving way using the skills and interests that are inherently part of you. It can involve any activity: dancing, writing, healing, gardening, cooking, parenting, teaching, composing, singing, surfing- whatever. There’s no limit to this list. But everything on this list can be done to pump up your ego or to serve others.

Satisfying your ego ultimately means being unfulfilled and questioning your purpose. This is because your Source is egoless, and you’re attempting to connect to your Source, where your purpose originates. If the activities on the list are in service to others, you feel the bliss of purposeful living, while paradoxically attracting more of what you’d like to have in your life.

Sigh. Miss you.

5 Ugly Truths

Thank you to Mark Manson, the current reigning king of not giving a f***, for these five truths that he says are hard to hear:

  1.  At some point we must all admit the inevitable: life is short, not all of our dreams can come true, so we should carefully pick and choose what we have the best shot at and then commit.

2. We try things. Some of them go well. Some of them don’t. The point is to stick with the ones that go well and move on, not get upset about every little thing that didn’t go our way.

3. What we don’t realize is that there is a fine art of non-fuck-giving. People aren’t born not giving a fuck. Not giving a fuck must be honed over years of deliberate practice.

4. Finding meaning and purpose is not a five-day spa retreat. It’s a fucking hike through mud and shit with golf-ball sized hail pelting you in the face. And you have to love it. You have to laugh about it. To show the world your gleaming bruises and scars and say, “I stood for THIS.”

5. No one is going to stand up at your funeral and say, “He fucked like a wildebeest and had the best golf swing I’ve ever seen.” Life is about loving people, not impressing them.

And if #5 describes you even slightly, call me. Lol

Price

Busy week. Enjoy this piece from Price Pritchett:

Don’t live a life with a lukewarm heart.

Passion is a very important part of the process. It fires the soul and fills the spirit, energizing your heart and mind on your way to a higher plane of performance. Passion keeps you going when you’re hit with problems and uncertainty.

Passion must be fueled, and you feed that flame with visions of a dream that is dramatic. The emotional intensity inside must burn hot enough to protect you against the chilling effects of doubt, uncertainty, criticism, and failure. Only deep desire can generate such heat.

For you to care this intensely, of course, there must be something worth caring about- something remarkable, special, and precious enough to light the fire in your heart.

This means you must loosen the limits on your thinking, and give yourself permission to pursue what you want most. The climate is right only when you are passionately drawn to a particular goal.

So let your deepest desires direct your aim. Set your sights far above the “reasonable” target. The power of purpose is profound only if you have a desire that stirs the heart.

The inner drive must be strong enough to carry you past the point of wishful thinking. The dream must consume you, control you, drive you to action, disallowing half-hearted effort in the pursuit.

Let your heart take charge of your body.

As a Man Thinketh

I followed happiness to make her mine,

Past towering oak and swinging ivy vine.

She fled, I chased, o’er slanting hill and dale,

O’er fields and meadows, in the purpling vale.

Pursuing rapidly o’er dashing stream,

I scaled the dizzy cliffs where the eagles scream;

I traversed swiftly every land and sea,

But always happiness eluded me.

Exhausted, fainting, I pursued no more,

But sank to rest upon a barren shore.

One came and asked for food, and one for alms;

I placed the bread and gold in bony palms;

One came for sympathy, and one for rest;

I shared with every needy one my best;

When lo! sweet Happiness, with form divine,

Stood by me, whispering softly, “I am thine.”

These beautiful lines of Burleigh’s express the secret of all abounding happiness. Sacrifice the personal and transient, and you rise at once into the impersonal and permanent. Give up that narrow cramped self that seeks to render all things subservient to its own petty interests, and you will enter into the company of the angels, into the very heart and essence of universal love. Forget yourself entirely in the sorrows of others and in ministering to others, and divine happiness will emancipate you from all sorrow and suffering.

As a Man Thinketh, James Allen

Soft Edges

When you reach

your edge, soften.

Soften until you

slip through the

constraints and

can create a new

rhythm, a new

route, a new

release. Water is

soft yet powerful.

Reach your edge,

and soften.

-Victoria Erickson

So yesterday I left the gym and went right to the local mechanic to drop my son’s Jeep off to get its bells and whistles checked out while he’s away. I was there by 9:00 a.m. on the dot, and I pulled into a great spot right in front. I planned to walk home from the shop after I turned in the key, so I was distracted and thinking about what I needed to grab out of his Jeep.

I walked toward the office and did one last mental check to make sure I had what I needed. Phone, earbuds, hat, extra layer. I took a quick look back at his Jeep when suddenly I stopped in the middle of the street.

I didn’t have his Jeep. I was in my Audi. It was immediately apparent to me that I was trying to drop my son’s Jeep off for servicing without the Jeep actually being in the vicinity (mechanics have told me in confidence that this is a very difficult way to service a vehicle). I backed away slowly, back towards my car, as the stupidity of what I had almost done (well, DID do) sunk in. I hoped that no one in the office had seen me pull up, and I prayed that they were not watching me drive away. I drove home and returned with his Jeep ten minutes later with no one the wiser.

Well, until now.

A couple of weeks ago I was rushing to the Cherry Hill mall to get this one specific thing that I could only get in this one specific store. I had driven over an hour in bad traffic for this one thing, so I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around. Upon arrival I moved quickly and purposefully through the parking lot, and as I stepped towards the electronic door, my brain just assumed it would open for me as quickly as it always did.

As my nose and face met unyielding glass in a rather forceful introduction, it occurred to me that perhaps it was not an electronic door. Perhaps, I thought, it was a manual door. You know, the push-pull kind. Ah, of course, I thought. The young couple behind me who witnessed the spectacle asked me if I was alright, and I thanked them and watched them try very hard to keep straight faces. I felt gratified knowing they would probably be laughing for the rest of the day.

I keep thinking it’s going to show up on Instagram at some point.

I’ve also been having problems with automatic soap dispensers, faucets, and paper towel dispensers. There are so many different rules. Touch them on top, touch them on the bottom, don’t touch them at all. Push lever, pull lever, move lever sideways. Tap it once for cold, tap it twice for hot, tap it in the inverse order. Hold your hands two inches underneath, no, make that three inches, no, closer than that, you dummy.

Then just when you think you have the hang of the automatic kind, the old-fashioned ones appear in restrooms again, the kind that you actually need to physically manipulate. You wave your hands ineffectively in front of it to coax a paper towel out only to have the person in back of you inform you that you have to push the lever. You stand drooling stupidly in front of these contraptions remembering that there was a time in your life that you probably knew how to work them, but that those days are long gone.  

Lately I have found myself standing in front of strange sinks literally frozen with indecision and knowing full well that I lack the curriculum vitae necessary to extricate soap and water from it. When facing an unfamiliar faucet or dispenser, I give myself a pep talk:

You can do this. You’re a grown woman. You’ve borne three children, you possess five post-graduate degrees, you have had a great career. You are independent and successful and capable. You is kind you is smart you is important. Go in with no fear. Never let it see you sweat. Just just just….DO IT!

I take a deep breath and go in slowly. No rush. I even try to hum a little, so that it appears I am so casual with what is about to transpire that no matter the outcome, it will not affect my day. I reach towards the edge of the faucet, and I soften. And the water flows.

Because softening has been working for me.

I definitely had a point to this post when I thought of it last week, but all I know now is I’ve been rushing around too much. Trying too hard. When things are hectic,  my brain gets overloaded. And although they are funny stories (and honestly, it’s really a normal day for me, ask anyone. And let me know if you want to hang out, you’ll never suffer a dull moment), it’s important for me to know that when I forget to soften, things go haywire.

Sometimes we try too hard. When we relax, water flows, doors open. We must take our time in the climb,

So here’s to life and soft edges.