If you’ve ever bought a new car, a certain breed of dog, or an unusual pair of shoes, you know that the act of obtaining it brings your attention to just how many others are ruining its uniqueness. Suddenly, Shar-Peis come out of the sidewalk and you see your teal Mitsubishi Eclipse around every turn. And though this awareness may make us feel ordinary and deflate our ego, we can use this little phenomenon to our advantage.
Attracting that which we give attention to isn’t all bad, if we learn how to use it.
I was recently reintroduced to “morning pages.” I first learned of them in Julia Cameron’s book, the Artist’s Way–which now has a pretty nifty Web site. And for awhile, in my twenties, I’d put pencil to paper every morning and write whatever came to mind … until I forgot the meaning behind the practice and quit. It’s not about writing something brilliant, useful, or even legible. The pages, she says, are a way to better understand ourselves.
These two questions plopped on the page today:
“If you had all the time in the world what would you do?”
“If you had a limited amount of time in the world what would you do?”
Your answer to these may give you insight as to what in your life needs to be changed–what can you include or omit to enhance your existence.
I know this has been the site’s longest hiatus (a week, egad!) since 2011 rolled in, but I promise we haven’t abandoned you. Moving, apparently, once you’ve acquired a U-Haul worth of stuff, takes time. Several times this past week I found myself reminiscing about my youth, when I could fit everything I owned in a 1980 Toyota truck, including my motorcycle. Changing scenery, jobs, habits, boyfriends, whatever, was easier then. But regardless the size of the moving truck we can’t let it intimidate us into staying parked.
We know when it’s time to make a change, yet often ignore that wisdom, denying that something once so superb could be anything less. We may resist admitting that Café Sintra is no longer our favorite after telling the staff three visits in a row that our crepes were cold. We may buy flower pots and place them on the deck to detract from the tarp covering the building defects below. Deception is often easier to swallow, initially, than truth–even if it is coated in Polyethylene.
But at some point we either have to decide to park ourselves in the driveway of disappointment or do something different. Sadly, many opt for the cracked asphalt of disappointment. So what’s it take to get your giddy-up? A driving force, of course.
Think of it this way … the U-Haul will sit in your driveway all day, every day, no matter the cost. But when driven by [click to continue…]
Some of us learned from the best (thanks mom) on how to devalue ourselves and dive into the pit of “I’m not good enough,” or cute enough, or rich enough, or whatever enough. The reasons why, or the frequency in which we end up here, are irrelevant. What is relevant is the solution. “Yes!” you may say. [...]
