The shifts in thinking and tools for an abndant life in the book 30 Perfect Days are not new, but they work. Writing is an extension of the spoken word, as Alexandra Johnson expressed in her book Leaving a Trace, a way of having a narrative life that has more layers. In her sequel to The Artist’s Way, Walking in this World, Cameron stresses walking for spiritual sustenance and warding off bad thoughts. Yoga, like journaling and walking, clears the mind and brings consciousness to the present; it also reminds us that we are enough. The beach glass in my pocket, like a necklace, a rabbit’s foot, or a verse, reminds me of where I want to go. Writing down a list of absolutes, rules to live by, help us stay on the right path for living our best life. And when I attended a yoga retreat soon after my book was done, I created a vision board where the journey ended with these words:: “With optimism and visionary ideas, inventors, activists and yoga practitioners are reimaging the future of life on Earth—and making it happen.” The vision board was yet another tool for an excellent, if not perfect, life. Your challenge, if you choose it, is to ask, as Mary Oliver asks in her most famous poem, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” This is THE question we need to ask as we work with the tools and adjust our attitudes about Life.
Tag Archives | journey
Log Post 28, Week 28: Finding Abundance
Wayne Dyer is quoted as saying “Doing what you love is the cornerstone of having abundance in your life.” At the heart of an excellent life is recognizing its abundance. Taking an art class feels lavish and expansive. It makes me feel like I’m living abundantly. When I was working on the Artist’s Way chapter on abundance, I bought flowers for my desk at work. I paid attention to how the outside light came into the Terminal Tower. I felt like writing Morning Pages was a stolen moment before the family woke up. I gave myself permission to spend time on myself. Here I am at the end of 30 days and trying to figure out how I can get my Mom to journal, but my mission may not be her mission. Remember humility? Remember agape? I pull back from that idea, and try to listen to what she needs, but I ask you, as I’ve asked workshop participants, “If you could live four other lives, what would they be like? What’s the through line, the common thread that causes them to be your choices? How can you live your life more abundantly? Maybe you’ve already arrived at the life you always dreamed of.
Log Post 26, Week 26, Humble Pie
As the cities of America erupt, just as they did when I was a child in 1968, I understand the struggle of many, but not the destructive behavior of others or the hate behind their actions. Nelson Mandela said, “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances freedom of others.” That leads to what I wrote about on Day 26: humility is a virtue because it allows us to see into the souls of others. When I arrived home from Lakeside, my daughter said I would never offer up an apology for bad behavior—the idea that my daughter sees me differently than I do, as a self-centered uncompromising person made me look deep to see if that’s true–some of what she accused me of IS true. That was right after I had a sobering thought on the way home from Lakeside that as far as what I’m writing and how much: No one’s watching. And I was fretting about it, worried about making a mistake or not being good enough when no one cares what I’m doing, not really but me. So I’m just a humble warrior who needs to focus on being there for people, whether it’s paying attention to my what-would-Jesus-do behavior or writing well. With great humbleness, I examine my behavior and who I am and help others be free to write and live well. I hope I’m living in a way that would make Mandela proud–with great respect for others and less focus on my achievements.
Log Post 25, Week 25: Being Expansive
For those who follow me: I’ve been off track with my posts. Back to Mondays. I’m happy to report that my new book Daffodils and Fireflies is now available, and I am reviewing the final proofs of Canal Country Wineries. But this weekend, as I write this on Saturday, I’m in the same place I was on Day 25 of my 30-Perfect Days Project: at Lakeside, Ohio’s Chautauqua on Lake Erie. The Chautauqua movement was always about being expansive, and when they began, in the middle of Queen Victoria’s reign, the artists and writers and philosophers and abolitionists were intoxicated by expansiveness. At Lakeside, and especially during my Word Lovers Retreats, people exude expansiveness. The tribe of Word Lovers writers are looking at expanding, putting it out there, acknowledging the intoxication we all feel when we put words on paper. And we need the encouragement of each other, as well as the universe, and perhaps a muse, like mine, my more mature self, the woman with the flowing long hair and gossamer scarves who appears beside me, beckons to reveal layers of treasures and the untethered freedom of a bird, meandering on the garden path. With her, I am childlike.
Log Post 24, Week 24: Tuning in to Possibility
On Day 24, I quoted Golda Meir who said we need to trust ourselves and create the kind of self we would be happy with the rest of our lives. Wow. Are you doing that. I think it’s difficult to appreciate ourselves, and for that reason, we can’t trust ourselves. Maybe it’s time to inventory our gifts, positive traits, and accomplishments so we can objectively begin to rework ourselves. The concept of recreating myself seems counter-intuitive to being authentic and letting go. I love the metaphor of a river, and how we move along in the current of life, sometimes hitting the bank or getting stuck on a rock, of being pushed down into the depths and rising to the surface, of flowing along in a meandering way, with our lives being transformed by trusting the journey. Creating ourselves but being authentic can be welded into this: accept what life has to offer and respond from a place within us that is fine with change. We don’t have to actively force a change but shift our attitude ever so slightly, hardly making a ripple on the surface of the water, but deepening what’s in the depths.