When you genuinely help someone, you feel better about yourself.
Generosity of spirit actually pays pretty good dividends.
Not so many words, but much thought about this topic, of late.
PS For those of you who have been asking … Poor Camilla died yesterday. She went peacefully, with no distress. She had a whole extra month of life, out scratching in the dirt, eating worms, enjoying the spring sunshine. Our yard seems quiet without her friendly chicken face. She was such a funny bird – if I called her, she would race to me, as fast as her fat, poultry waddle would allow her to come. I will miss her.
I recently became acquainted with Call The Midwife, a PBS show set in 1947 based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth, a young nurse and midwife in London's East End. The episodes are both intrguing and horrifying, as one gets to see life in that era – in all its simplicity and lack of advances. We are utterly fortunate to live in a time where medicine has progressed so far and technology affords us a quality of life that people then couldn't even begin to imagine.
Yet – and I don't think this is just the producers ficticious imaginings – there was a different timbre of relationships then. A commitment to service of humanity, loyalty to one another, a trust in both God and country. I wonder too if the constant losses of both life and fortune somehow grounded people. It seems those same deprivations also broke them. Maybe the past was not better or worse … perhaps it was both better and worse.
One thing is for certain – the series is so intriguing to me, because it is based in reality. This was someone's life. No one made this up – she actually lived it.
The paths we choose, whether more or less traveled; our choices make our lives. And our lives make that difference; at least we each desperately hope for as much. Perhaps 50 years from now, someone will be creating entertainment from our stories, imagining that we were remarkable.
It is easy to be intentional, when you know where you're going. However, when you lose your destination, or even just general direction, then a viable "what next" becomes difficult.
I believe all people, even the most focused lose their way occasionally.
In mountaineering, if you become lost, you return to the last place that you were oriented in.
I have had a terrible cold and in addition, some transitions; these have contributed to my silence. Rather than just speak for words' sake, I have been waiting until I had an idea of even what might be spoken.
Here it is:
We all get lost. And when you are lost – when I am lost – the safest thing to do is hold steady until the direction becomes clear once more.
I saw this picture today, and loved the both / and quality of it. Without much commentary, I am asking: what in my life is more than it appears to be on the surface?
I am enjoying a free e book I received centered on story – what elements one must have in order to "work" – it takes me straight back to my high school english classes … 11th grade, I think.
While I was reading some of my serious writing attempts kept drifting into my view – I found myself comparing them to these stated essential elements to see if they portions measured up. The author spoke of how he was continually looking for this structure in movies and commercials, especially if he got bored, looking for what was missed or where it got off track. I felt a pang of sadness: where does he find the mental energy to always be aware of the elements of the story, and therefore be able to dissect where the advertisement went bad?
I need to add that the previous day, I visited a friend's home to look at her pottery shed, which she had generously offered to let me use if I wished. While there, my heart exploded with ideas; I cannot wait to try messing around and creating something. I borrowed a book on handmade tiles and felt a wistful whisper of the untapped creativity within me and was humbled by the enormous talent of people out there.
Add to this two complicated new skills I am endeavoring to learn and friendships that are languishing for lack of engagement.
Meanwhile, I have a dirty kitchen floor (whole house really), a section of tile that is waiting for grouting, enormous amounts of organic matter that requires raking up before the new shoots of Spring arrive, some animals that need vaccinating, and there is absolutely nothing to eat in the house, except a huge pitcher full of black beans that I am soaking. Sigh.
When I was a young person, I heard the term: Renaissance Woman (or Man) … a person who's experience spans a significant number of subjects. I liked that notion. Yet, as I grow older, it becomes increasingly difficult to live out. Mastery takes time and energy. And, as we all know, both are finite.
I have a wonderful children's book entitled The Three Questions. It is an adaptation of Tolstoy. When is the best time to do things? Who is the most important one? What is the right thing to do? You can see why I appreciate this story!
It is difficult to go within and honestly appraise yourself as 'not enough'. Not in a self-depreciating, low self-esteem way, but in a realistic understanding-of-our-limitedness way. I cannot practice my cello, reach out to others, cook several meals, finish my floor, take care of my animals, write my amazing publishable book all at the same time. I must choose. And saying 'yes' to one means its a 'no' to five others.
What is so maddening about this is within these three kinds of activities – ones that maintain what you have (clean the kitchen floor), develop what you are working on (practicing the cello), or creating something new (make the ceramic tiles) – each has its own rewards and limitations.
Maintainance must happen at some level, or all of life falls apart, but there's nothing to show for it and it must happen repeatedly (cooking, cleaning, etc) , so it is totally demotivating.
Skill acquisition is slow and also really feels like there is no real visible gain, until years down the road … so it is difficult to stay motivated.
Creation takes the most energy and is the most difficult to carve out and protect in terms of time. It is the most satisfying, yet it demands exclusivity (at least for me) for that time frame … and again, all my world around me crumbles … and still the friendships starve for lack of input.
And this doesn't even address the more noble things like philanthropy and service of others, which is also important to me.
You can see why I became sad …
I had a friend once tell me, "Miriam, you do not have to live out every dream today."
