This is an invitation. At this auspicious time of year, what would you like to promise yourself to boldly and resolutely do? I invite you to make that decision public here in the comments some time before the end of Friday. And I will do the same.
The more specific the goal, the better. Example: to get the whole house organized vs. to spend a minimum of two hours a week cleaning out closets and shelves, until they're in the desired condition. See how a specific might get more done?
What's important about going public? The person who does this is more likely to accomplish the goal. Also, she or he gains allies and resources that way. Things fall into place better when all the world and planets can see how they might help out.
I hope you'll post here your own bold pledge to yourself.
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Monday, December 29, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Have Fun!
Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Happy New Year!
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Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The War of Art
I just started listening in my car to an audio version of the book The War of Art (a clever spin on Sun Tzu's classic Art of War) So far I've only heard the first disc, and I've listened to it twice!! though I just got it yesterday!!
Such good stuff. This is the second great resource I've come upon in recent weeks, the other being The Courage to Teach.
The War of Art is (so far)about resistance-- resisting sitting down to write, or standing up to paint, and more. The author Steven Pressfield views all reluctance to do the best right thing as resistance, a force like gravity that we simply need to acknowledge and persevere in spite of. The way I'm saying it sounds dreadfully pious and unappealing. But hearing it on this audio really has me excited.
The metaphor of one large thing that mindlessly sits on my efforts to get off of the sofa works startlingly well for me. I always knew something was there, Jello-like, trying to stop me. I didn't connect it with the same force that says: I'll check my email instead of working on my novel.
Pressfield says the resistance tends to strike when we approach getting down to work on art, a spiritual practice, any health improvement, or strengthening abdominal muscles.
He says --and, oh, I agree -- that the big R can take a wickedly beguiling variety of forms including lawyerly logic. And whatever form it is: "resistance always lies...is always full of shit."
(Thanks to Thomas Griggs for letting me know about this book/CD.)
BTW, Pressfield writes bestsellers, frequently about warfare (also The Legend of Bagger Vance) I'd say, in his case, resistance doesn't stand a chance.
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Such good stuff. This is the second great resource I've come upon in recent weeks, the other being The Courage to Teach.
The War of Art is (so far)about resistance-- resisting sitting down to write, or standing up to paint, and more. The author Steven Pressfield views all reluctance to do the best right thing as resistance, a force like gravity that we simply need to acknowledge and persevere in spite of. The way I'm saying it sounds dreadfully pious and unappealing. But hearing it on this audio really has me excited.
The metaphor of one large thing that mindlessly sits on my efforts to get off of the sofa works startlingly well for me. I always knew something was there, Jello-like, trying to stop me. I didn't connect it with the same force that says: I'll check my email instead of working on my novel.
Pressfield says the resistance tends to strike when we approach getting down to work on art, a spiritual practice, any health improvement, or strengthening abdominal muscles.
He says --and, oh, I agree -- that the big R can take a wickedly beguiling variety of forms including lawyerly logic. And whatever form it is: "resistance always lies...is always full of shit."
(Thanks to Thomas Griggs for letting me know about this book/CD.)
BTW, Pressfield writes bestsellers, frequently about warfare (also The Legend of Bagger Vance) I'd say, in his case, resistance doesn't stand a chance.
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Monday, December 22, 2008
One Maybe-Stupid Way to Write with Ease
Though I've had a lot to say here about holiday prep, the fact is I've done what prep I've done in about 12 minutes and otherwise have been working like a coal miner on client projects, mainly one very large one.
Saturday I took the first full day off from any writing/editing for quite a while. Sunday I had a little trouble getting cranked up again. And I realized that I'd forgotten what the initial crank-up felt like: a bit of resistance, easily overcome, but still I felt it....Once again a demonstration that touching "the work" every day, if only for a few minutes, can solve one kind of problem (though, I admit, it may cause others. For one thing,it's the 22nd of December, and I don't seem to have gotten all my Christmas cards out.)
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Saturday I took the first full day off from any writing/editing for quite a while. Sunday I had a little trouble getting cranked up again. And I realized that I'd forgotten what the initial crank-up felt like: a bit of resistance, easily overcome, but still I felt it....Once again a demonstration that touching "the work" every day, if only for a few minutes, can solve one kind of problem (though, I admit, it may cause others. For one thing,it's the 22nd of December, and I don't seem to have gotten all my Christmas cards out.)
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Friday, December 19, 2008
Hit the Ball, You-All
Mamie, who contributed yesterday's Goethe quote, has found us another bit of get-up-and-go inspiration:
"Be bold. If you're going to make an error, make a doozey, and don't be afraid to hit the ball."
Billie Jean King
As matter of fact, Goethe said something similar: "A clever man commits no minor blunders." (from Brainyquote.com)
It's the "sin boldly" principle, an idea that has always stuck in my head. It has a refreshing clarity.
And "hit the ball?" Well, that brings back my days as head junior varsity cheerleader at Wilmington, NC's New Hanover High School, the home of the Wildcats. One of our ever-useful cheers was: "Hit the ball, you-all! Hit the ball!" Clap. Clap. Clap. Which is pretty much what Billie Jean King, Goethe, Mamie, and I are saying.
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"Be bold. If you're going to make an error, make a doozey, and don't be afraid to hit the ball."
Billie Jean King
As matter of fact, Goethe said something similar: "A clever man commits no minor blunders." (from Brainyquote.com)
It's the "sin boldly" principle, an idea that has always stuck in my head. It has a refreshing clarity.
And "hit the ball?" Well, that brings back my days as head junior varsity cheerleader at Wilmington, NC's New Hanover High School, the home of the Wildcats. One of our ever-useful cheers was: "Hit the ball, you-all! Hit the ball!" Clap. Clap. Clap. Which is pretty much what Billie Jean King, Goethe, Mamie, and I are saying.
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Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Nervous Goethe?
Mamie, a most-welcome regular bold participant here, has sent us a quote: "Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it."
- Goethe
I've read this before, but as I told her, am always glad to be reminded. I also had the thought: Wonder if Goethe was actually a nervous procrastinator.
It's universally known that we all teach (or rattle on about) what we personally need to learn.
I'll bet Goethe was trying to convince himself. I'm going to check around and find out. Thoughts of any Goethe-ists on this would be most welcome.
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- Goethe
I've read this before, but as I told her, am always glad to be reminded. I also had the thought: Wonder if Goethe was actually a nervous procrastinator.
It's universally known that we all teach (or rattle on about) what we personally need to learn.
I'll bet Goethe was trying to convince himself. I'm going to check around and find out. Thoughts of any Goethe-ists on this would be most welcome.
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Be the Gift
I once heard a woman say in the flurry of "doing" Christmas that she'd decided one afternoon to "be the gift." Often a phrase like this means giving a gift of time: changing someone's lightbulbs or hanging out with them or some such.
But this woman was thinking of it differently. And she was on her way to the mall at the time. So she proceeded to be especially nice to every clerk or cashier she met, every shopper she bumped against. The whole experience was lighter, easier; and she had a wonderful time. Don't you love that? I thought it quite bold.
Another way of thinking about this approach, which I ran across in a sermon: "A Quaker friend of mine used to say to me, 'I will hold you in the light.'”
Of course the whole busy business also applies to Hannukah celebrations and others at this time of year. I've also seen the experience referred to as "doing December." Whatever the occasion, "being the gift" can work.
I watch people like my office partner who celebrates both Christmas and Hannukah (interfaith marriage) and once did a symbolic candle-lighting ceremony on the fold-down tray table on a flight to France (where they were to spend a year) with her family including brand-new baby. Now that's multi-tasking. Or multi-enjoying. She's one who is good at being the gift.
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But this woman was thinking of it differently. And she was on her way to the mall at the time. So she proceeded to be especially nice to every clerk or cashier she met, every shopper she bumped against. The whole experience was lighter, easier; and she had a wonderful time. Don't you love that? I thought it quite bold.
Another way of thinking about this approach, which I ran across in a sermon: "A Quaker friend of mine used to say to me, 'I will hold you in the light.'”
Of course the whole busy business also applies to Hannukah celebrations and others at this time of year. I've also seen the experience referred to as "doing December." Whatever the occasion, "being the gift" can work.
I watch people like my office partner who celebrates both Christmas and Hannukah (interfaith marriage) and once did a symbolic candle-lighting ceremony on the fold-down tray table on a flight to France (where they were to spend a year) with her family including brand-new baby. Now that's multi-tasking. Or multi-enjoying. She's one who is good at being the gift.
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Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The Twelve -- or Maybe Two -- Stages of Christmas
Got past the day of holiday agitation. Now it just feels like I'm happily and confidently in the process of landing a small plane, for maybe the second or third time, never mind that this is my 59th Christmas.
I take things too damn seriously. And I doubt if that's going to change a lot. Or if it does it won't be through my straining to make it so. So for the moment I guess I'll just taxi in as is, and then fly off again somewhere else, no doubt to the quiet complexity and soothing pleasures of January.
Bold doesn't have to be simple and slapdash. I'm sure of that.
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I take things too damn seriously. And I doubt if that's going to change a lot. Or if it does it won't be through my straining to make it so. So for the moment I guess I'll just taxi in as is, and then fly off again somewhere else, no doubt to the quiet complexity and soothing pleasures of January.
Bold doesn't have to be simple and slapdash. I'm sure of that.
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Monday, December 15, 2008
More on Teaching Courage
A few days back, I was excited at finding out about a book called The Courage to Teach, by Parker Palmer. Reason: though my classes seem to go well, I always feel a fear of teaching return afterwards. That's so weirdly specific: like being scared of heights only three or seven stories high. And I don't understand the fear's ability to grow back every time I get rid of it.
But anyway, I got hold of the book, started reading and it's everything I'd hope it would be. What it did for me, essentially, is to encourage my teaching in my own way and not worrying about what's supposed to work best. You'd think that would be perfectly obvious, especially for an artist-type. And, in fact, I've pretty much always done it my way, but then worried that people weren't getting what they needed. Apparntly I needed encouragement to keep on doing what I've been doing and simply relax about it.
Here are two quotes I especially like: "External tools of power have occasional utility in teaching, but they are no substitute for authority, the authority that comes from the teacher's inner life....Authority is granted to people who are perceived as authoring their own words, their own actions, their own lives, rather than playing a scripted role at great remove from their own hearts."
And: "Behind their fearful silence, our students want to find their voices, speak their voices, have their voices heard. A good teacher is one who can listen to those voices even before they are spoken--so that someday they can speak with truth and confidence."
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But anyway, I got hold of the book, started reading and it's everything I'd hope it would be. What it did for me, essentially, is to encourage my teaching in my own way and not worrying about what's supposed to work best. You'd think that would be perfectly obvious, especially for an artist-type. And, in fact, I've pretty much always done it my way, but then worried that people weren't getting what they needed. Apparntly I needed encouragement to keep on doing what I've been doing and simply relax about it.
Here are two quotes I especially like: "External tools of power have occasional utility in teaching, but they are no substitute for authority, the authority that comes from the teacher's inner life....Authority is granted to people who are perceived as authoring their own words, their own actions, their own lives, rather than playing a scripted role at great remove from their own hearts."
And: "Behind their fearful silence, our students want to find their voices, speak their voices, have their voices heard. A good teacher is one who can listen to those voices even before they are spoken--so that someday they can speak with truth and confidence."
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Sunday, December 14, 2008
Write Fast
I'M A BIG BELIEVER IN WORKING QUICKLY, BECAUSE I THINK IT'S HARDER-THOUGH NOT IMPOSSIBLE-TO BE PRETENTIOUS WHEN YOU'RE MOVING REALLY FAST.
—Moviemaker Steven Soderbergh
From Interview magazine website
I once got bogged down in the middle of my first novel Revelation. I decided that on the following day, if I could get 7 pages of any quality cranked out, I would then take the rest of the day off for nothing but leisure. No more work, no errands. I figured I might get it done in 7 hours.
The following day I wrote 7 pages in an hour and 45 minutes and they were better than anything I'd written in weeks. The book really came to life again.
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—Moviemaker Steven Soderbergh
From Interview magazine website
I once got bogged down in the middle of my first novel Revelation. I decided that on the following day, if I could get 7 pages of any quality cranked out, I would then take the rest of the day off for nothing but leisure. No more work, no errands. I figured I might get it done in 7 hours.
The following day I wrote 7 pages in an hour and 45 minutes and they were better than anything I'd written in weeks. The book really came to life again.
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Friday, December 12, 2008
What Roy Blount Wants for Christmas
Roy Blount, Jr., that jolly old elf, is current King Pen of the Authors Guild, and just sent this out to the membership. I think it's a great idea.
"We don't want bookstores to die. Authors need them, and so do neighborhoods. So let's mount a book-buying splurge. Get your friends together, go to your local bookstore and have a book-buying party. Buy the rest of your Christmas presents, but that's just for starters.
Clear out the mysteries,
wrap up the histories,
beam up the science fiction!
Round up the westerns,
go crazy for self-help,
say yes to the university press books!
Get a load of those coffee-table books,
fatten up on slim volumes of verse,
and take a chance on romance!
There will be birthdays in the next twelve months; books keep well; they're easy to wrap: buy those books now. Buy replacements for any books looking raggedy on your shelves. Stockpile children's books as gifts for friends who look like they may eventually give birth. Hold off on the flat-screen TV and the GPS (they'll be cheaper after Christmas) and buy many, many books. Then tell the grateful booksellers, who by this time will be hanging onto your legs begging you to stay and live with their cat in the stockroom: 'Got to move on, folks. Got some books to write now.'"
(Okay, you're not an old elf, Roy, but jolly good funny.)
If you happen to be a Durhamite, you might choose to party at The Regulator, or in Raleigh at Quail Ridge Books & Music.
(Note: the line breaks and boldfacing are all mine.)
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"We don't want bookstores to die. Authors need them, and so do neighborhoods. So let's mount a book-buying splurge. Get your friends together, go to your local bookstore and have a book-buying party. Buy the rest of your Christmas presents, but that's just for starters.
Clear out the mysteries,
wrap up the histories,
beam up the science fiction!
Round up the westerns,
go crazy for self-help,
say yes to the university press books!
Get a load of those coffee-table books,
fatten up on slim volumes of verse,
and take a chance on romance!
There will be birthdays in the next twelve months; books keep well; they're easy to wrap: buy those books now. Buy replacements for any books looking raggedy on your shelves. Stockpile children's books as gifts for friends who look like they may eventually give birth. Hold off on the flat-screen TV and the GPS (they'll be cheaper after Christmas) and buy many, many books. Then tell the grateful booksellers, who by this time will be hanging onto your legs begging you to stay and live with their cat in the stockroom: 'Got to move on, folks. Got some books to write now.'"
(Okay, you're not an old elf, Roy, but jolly good funny.)
If you happen to be a Durhamite, you might choose to party at The Regulator, or in Raleigh at Quail Ridge Books & Music.
(Note: the line breaks and boldfacing are all mine.)
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Thursday, December 11, 2008
Santa Claus Hat, Artcar, Goat Meat
In the oatmeal-and-Internet cafe where I am taking my breakfast this morning, a man sits one table ahead of me in a rather elegant serious-looking Santa Claus hat.
He's about thirty, lean, dark and grizzled. The pile of napkins and tea detritus in front of him indicate he has been here for a while, by himself. He is otherwise dressed in a hiply outdoorsy way: layered T-shirts and a down vest.
What worries me is that it took me about ten minutes to notice that the guy has on a Claus cap. I wonder if I'm in a fog and not noticing much and how much of the time this is the case.
And I wonder why he decided to throw on red velvet and faux ermine this morning.
*Is it just the sort of thing he naturally does: it's who he is.
*Is he a late-blooming sociology grad student monitoring reactions (don't think so, he blinks a little too much)
*Did he do it as one of his personal experiments with overthrowing convention
*Or because he is full of the Christmas spirit
*Or because he feels rakish and daring with that fur band around his ears, showercap style
*Did he do it to meet people (an older man in a knit cap, chatty and opinionated, has just sat down at the next table and engaged him in conversation. They shake hands. They both look happy and relieved.
*Is it a signal I haven't heard about?
I suppose someone might have asked the same questions about why I painted morning glories on my car. Answer: I'd always had an irrational craving that way and didn't examine it too closely. And, it didn't feel eccentric, it felt normal, with a twist of delight.
The two guys across from me are both visual artists, I now hear. The older one, black, garrulous, is articulate. The younger white stubble-faced one listens and says, "Holy crap, man!"
What I'm searching for, I think, is what distinguishes an odd gesture that's a natural extension of oneself in a particular moment, from a what-was-I-thinking move.
Did I mention that my beloved husband surprised me with 80 pounds of goat meat for our 25th anniversary on Monday? (I don't cook, don't eat much meat, tried goat once in 1978 and found it so-so.)
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He's about thirty, lean, dark and grizzled. The pile of napkins and tea detritus in front of him indicate he has been here for a while, by himself. He is otherwise dressed in a hiply outdoorsy way: layered T-shirts and a down vest.
What worries me is that it took me about ten minutes to notice that the guy has on a Claus cap. I wonder if I'm in a fog and not noticing much and how much of the time this is the case.
And I wonder why he decided to throw on red velvet and faux ermine this morning.
*Is it just the sort of thing he naturally does: it's who he is.
*Is he a late-blooming sociology grad student monitoring reactions (don't think so, he blinks a little too much)
*Did he do it as one of his personal experiments with overthrowing convention
*Or because he is full of the Christmas spirit
*Or because he feels rakish and daring with that fur band around his ears, showercap style
*Did he do it to meet people (an older man in a knit cap, chatty and opinionated, has just sat down at the next table and engaged him in conversation. They shake hands. They both look happy and relieved.
*Is it a signal I haven't heard about?
I suppose someone might have asked the same questions about why I painted morning glories on my car. Answer: I'd always had an irrational craving that way and didn't examine it too closely. And, it didn't feel eccentric, it felt normal, with a twist of delight.
The two guys across from me are both visual artists, I now hear. The older one, black, garrulous, is articulate. The younger white stubble-faced one listens and says, "Holy crap, man!"
What I'm searching for, I think, is what distinguishes an odd gesture that's a natural extension of oneself in a particular moment, from a what-was-I-thinking move.
Did I mention that my beloved husband surprised me with 80 pounds of goat meat for our 25th anniversary on Monday? (I don't cook, don't eat much meat, tried goat once in 1978 and found it so-so.)
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Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Oprah and Her Weight (and mine)
Oprah has been open about her weight for years. Hard not to be when you're as visible as she is.
But yesterday's bold admission included the actual number of pounds she now weighs. There's something about giving the number that takes more courage, I think. It's not like rescuing children from a burning building, of course; on the other hand, at the level of risk where most of us operate most of the time, I think it's a gut move.
I wonder if she has ever tried Overeaters Anonymous. Back in my twenties, I found them very helpful. I was a bit underweight and doing binge-then-Tab-and-cabbage. Not real healthy. That was before the days when anybody had heard of an eating disorder outside of a medical book or an occasional story of anorexia. I saw one line in a column in a Cosmo that told me about OA. That was all it took. Just a few meetings and the 12-step system taught me some key pieces of good self-management for the weight-wacky.
Maybe Oprah shaved a few pounds off the number she mentioned. I would find that forgivable.
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But yesterday's bold admission included the actual number of pounds she now weighs. There's something about giving the number that takes more courage, I think. It's not like rescuing children from a burning building, of course; on the other hand, at the level of risk where most of us operate most of the time, I think it's a gut move.
I wonder if she has ever tried Overeaters Anonymous. Back in my twenties, I found them very helpful. I was a bit underweight and doing binge-then-Tab-and-cabbage. Not real healthy. That was before the days when anybody had heard of an eating disorder outside of a medical book or an occasional story of anorexia. I saw one line in a column in a Cosmo that told me about OA. That was all it took. Just a few meetings and the 12-step system taught me some key pieces of good self-management for the weight-wacky.
Maybe Oprah shaved a few pounds off the number she mentioned. I would find that forgivable.
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The Prickly Pain of Uncertainty
One of the gutsiest things I know of is to be able to tolerate uncertainty or ambiguity: do I go or stay? is the biopsy going to show trouble? will I win the Nobel? is he going nuts or just being mean? am I on next week's layoff list? And on and on like that.
A good deal of life is made up of that stuff. And a lot of the time it's important to be able to stay in an uncertain state long enough to make good decisions. By contrast: I remember once in my single years when I felt I'd be relieved for a romance to be over so I could stop fearing the end of it. So I hurried that process along.
Some things that help me in these fretful wobbly periods:
*meditating and exercising
*getting deep into work or some other trance-inducing activity
*telling myself I'll stop thinking about possible outcomes or choices until Tuesday of next week and then I'll get back to it
*doing some research on the question
*check items off a to-do list, whether or not they're relevant
*take any relevant action that might help
*whining to friend
*blog!
Things that don't help:
*overeating
*not eating
*scraping at my skin and other twitchy habits
*making big decisions that could wait
*websurfing
*getting into arguments that could wait
It doesn't take a big issue like a biopsy to trigger the limbo state. I remember my need to decide at the start of ninth grade about whether to sign up for French III. Mon Dieu! People have married and produced children with less obsessing.
I assume that when some little uncertainty goes big as French III did, that there's often a larger one underneath. Something like fear of death, fear of failure, fear of being a ninth grade dork, simply looking for a place to land. Could be the best thing is just to let it land and then sit it out.
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A good deal of life is made up of that stuff. And a lot of the time it's important to be able to stay in an uncertain state long enough to make good decisions. By contrast: I remember once in my single years when I felt I'd be relieved for a romance to be over so I could stop fearing the end of it. So I hurried that process along.
Some things that help me in these fretful wobbly periods:
*meditating and exercising
*getting deep into work or some other trance-inducing activity
*telling myself I'll stop thinking about possible outcomes or choices until Tuesday of next week and then I'll get back to it
*doing some research on the question
*check items off a to-do list, whether or not they're relevant
*take any relevant action that might help
*whining to friend
*blog!
Things that don't help:
*overeating
*not eating
*scraping at my skin and other twitchy habits
*making big decisions that could wait
*websurfing
*getting into arguments that could wait
It doesn't take a big issue like a biopsy to trigger the limbo state. I remember my need to decide at the start of ninth grade about whether to sign up for French III. Mon Dieu! People have married and produced children with less obsessing.
I assume that when some little uncertainty goes big as French III did, that there's often a larger one underneath. Something like fear of death, fear of failure, fear of being a ninth grade dork, simply looking for a place to land. Could be the best thing is just to let it land and then sit it out.
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Monday, December 08, 2008
A Necessary Step for Holiday Prep?
The holidays are getting to me today -- in a not-good way. Decisions must be made! And preparations! I just did a web search of seafood restaurants serving on Christmas Day. Don't know that that's the solution, but maybe.
I could view it as a holiday tradition to have one sinking spell. Just expect it and allow time for it. Then back to jingle bells.
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I could view it as a holiday tradition to have one sinking spell. Just expect it and allow time for it. Then back to jingle bells.
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Sunday, December 07, 2008
Chocolate With Tam at the Umstead
An unexpectedly uplifting experience yesterday:
I went to "tea" with five friends, as the guest of one of us, photographer Karen Tam. We were celebrating a combo of birthdays and Christmas. Tam took us to the Umstead, a still-newish hotel at Research Triangle Park that has been years in the making. It's extremely well-appointed and it's expensive.
So we dressed up. That alone can feel ennobling, if you spend a fair amount of times in jeans and Uggs before a computer screen.
And then, here's what really got me. Every detail there was so well done that it made me feel like doing everything better. It's a remarkable experience to be somewhere, however briefly, where everything is done as well as humanly possible.
The armchairs, the proximity to the fireplace, the pastries, the hot chocolate, the way we were treated -- wow! And the thing is, it wasn't even all perfect at first crack. The first round of hot chocolate wasn't hot. Ardis, who is bolder than I, mentioned this. The lukewarm chocolate was whisked away and a woman in an elegant black suit came out and apologized and we were then elevated to the rank of visiting queens. (It's always inspiring to see someone turn a glitch into an opportunity for an even better performance.)
I came away feeling more full of purpose, more capable, and (amazing in combo with the other two) more relaxed.
This is the way outings and vacations are supposed to work, and this one was only three hours.
Me and the buds had good time talking too. We do this three times a year; some of us have been friends for 39 years, others only about 35. We shrieked less than usual and were very grown-up in keeping with the fancy setting. Though we did each wear one of Jan's 1940s hats with feathers and veils.
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I went to "tea" with five friends, as the guest of one of us, photographer Karen Tam. We were celebrating a combo of birthdays and Christmas. Tam took us to the Umstead, a still-newish hotel at Research Triangle Park that has been years in the making. It's extremely well-appointed and it's expensive.
So we dressed up. That alone can feel ennobling, if you spend a fair amount of times in jeans and Uggs before a computer screen.
And then, here's what really got me. Every detail there was so well done that it made me feel like doing everything better. It's a remarkable experience to be somewhere, however briefly, where everything is done as well as humanly possible.
The armchairs, the proximity to the fireplace, the pastries, the hot chocolate, the way we were treated -- wow! And the thing is, it wasn't even all perfect at first crack. The first round of hot chocolate wasn't hot. Ardis, who is bolder than I, mentioned this. The lukewarm chocolate was whisked away and a woman in an elegant black suit came out and apologized and we were then elevated to the rank of visiting queens. (It's always inspiring to see someone turn a glitch into an opportunity for an even better performance.)
I came away feeling more full of purpose, more capable, and (amazing in combo with the other two) more relaxed.
This is the way outings and vacations are supposed to work, and this one was only three hours.
Me and the buds had good time talking too. We do this three times a year; some of us have been friends for 39 years, others only about 35. We shrieked less than usual and were very grown-up in keeping with the fancy setting. Though we did each wear one of Jan's 1940s hats with feathers and veils.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Dressing Up, Costume, and Being Eccentric
Being a self-employed writer isn't conducive to what used to be called dressing for success.
Even though I have an office away from home, I could get away with going to work in my purple fleece Couch Sack if I were sufficiently what-used-to-be-called laid back.
Today, however, I went hog-wild in the other direction and put on a pencil skirt and heels and a semi-fancy shirt. Mon Dieu! It changes my view of myself and the world. I feel much more grownup (this is important at 59) and to-be-taken-seriously.
What may have inspired me to do this: last night I watched the first half hour of Grey Gardens, the documentary on Jackie O's poor relations, when they were revealed in the mid-70s to be living weird reclusive past-obsessed lives in their wretchedly decaying old house full of cats in the Hamptons. These two women, Big Edie and Little Edie, mother and daughter, both born beautiful and still wildly theatrical, brought back to me my childhood mantra: I will not be eccentric.
Having that running through my head regularly as a wee kid should have been a sign.
In recent years, however, I've mostly abandoned that resolve, and pretty much do and dress as I please. And I haven't gotten too weird.
Last night, though, I was sobered. Seeing the state of their house -- when I'm a so-so-minus housekeeper and spend much time alone with husband and king-size dogs in our very messy house in deep mossy shade-- made me think about my old childhood resolve.
But the truth is that, having relaxed, I haven't turned into a camp icon. The truth hasn't turned out to be so bad. Even so, I'm turned out like a hip CEO today. The old fears seem to always leave their traces.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Even though I have an office away from home, I could get away with going to work in my purple fleece Couch Sack if I were sufficiently what-used-to-be-called laid back.
Today, however, I went hog-wild in the other direction and put on a pencil skirt and heels and a semi-fancy shirt. Mon Dieu! It changes my view of myself and the world. I feel much more grownup (this is important at 59) and to-be-taken-seriously.
What may have inspired me to do this: last night I watched the first half hour of Grey Gardens, the documentary on Jackie O's poor relations, when they were revealed in the mid-70s to be living weird reclusive past-obsessed lives in their wretchedly decaying old house full of cats in the Hamptons. These two women, Big Edie and Little Edie, mother and daughter, both born beautiful and still wildly theatrical, brought back to me my childhood mantra: I will not be eccentric.
Having that running through my head regularly as a wee kid should have been a sign.
In recent years, however, I've mostly abandoned that resolve, and pretty much do and dress as I please. And I haven't gotten too weird.
Last night, though, I was sobered. Seeing the state of their house -- when I'm a so-so-minus housekeeper and spend much time alone with husband and king-size dogs in our very messy house in deep mossy shade-- made me think about my old childhood resolve.
But the truth is that, having relaxed, I haven't turned into a camp icon. The truth hasn't turned out to be so bad. Even so, I'm turned out like a hip CEO today. The old fears seem to always leave their traces.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
The Courage to Teach
How did I not know about this guy: Parker J. Palmer?
I've just discovered his book The Courage to Teach--only now after all the wrestles I've had with this very matter. Where was he my first day of teaching at Duke when, as I later learned, the students and I had received different starting times for the class and I thought for the first fifteen minutes that all but two early birds had dropped out already?
This book has been out for 11 years, and going by Amazon ranking, appears to be quite in demand still. Well, Parker Palmer, Peggy Payne is on her way (to read you.)
For others: Palmer is located at his Center for Courage & Renewal. Or see his 3 minute video about getting over the feeling of powerlessness and seizing your "Rosa Parks moment in life."
His other books include:
To Know As We Are Known: A Spirituality of Education
Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation
A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life
And more...
Note of interest: he spent 11 years living in a Quaker community.
Where I finally ran across his work was an old O magazine.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
I've just discovered his book The Courage to Teach--only now after all the wrestles I've had with this very matter. Where was he my first day of teaching at Duke when, as I later learned, the students and I had received different starting times for the class and I thought for the first fifteen minutes that all but two early birds had dropped out already?
This book has been out for 11 years, and going by Amazon ranking, appears to be quite in demand still. Well, Parker Palmer, Peggy Payne is on her way (to read you.)
For others: Palmer is located at his Center for Courage & Renewal. Or see his 3 minute video about getting over the feeling of powerlessness and seizing your "Rosa Parks moment in life."
His other books include:
To Know As We Are Known: A Spirituality of Education
Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation
A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life
And more...
Note of interest: he spent 11 years living in a Quaker community.
Where I finally ran across his work was an old O magazine.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Pink Courage
The magazine Pink has a highly specialized set of blogs on its website. Aimed at women, but there's wisdom here for anyone. Note: Wake Up Inspired, and The Courage Expert. Also blogs on such subjects as Romance, Style, PR and Copywriting.
Manage Yourself is currently exploring a particularly interesting question: "How do I know when I'm limiting myself?" I think I am. And I think it has to do with the vestiges of a sort of rebelliousness: writing just a tiny bit "difficult," as a sort of playing hard to get.
Anyway, Pink has some good resources for the courage and boldness and creativity seeker.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
Manage Yourself is currently exploring a particularly interesting question: "How do I know when I'm limiting myself?" I think I am. And I think it has to do with the vestiges of a sort of rebelliousness: writing just a tiny bit "difficult," as a sort of playing hard to get.
Anyway, Pink has some good resources for the courage and boldness and creativity seeker.
If you like this post, please bookmark it on del.icio.us, share it on StumbleUpon, vote for it on Digg. Thanks so much.
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