“After a certain point, it is necessary to let
go of all outside help and focus in on our own strength and resourcefulness.
What we seek, seeks us.”
—Anonymous
The Christmas tree was just the beginning. Let me share a
few more of Prudy’s recent exploits. There are only a few surfaces left that
are safe from her depridations—and that will probably change as she gets older:
the top of refrigerator (where we have to keep Scout’s food when she’s not
actually eating it), the top of the armoire in my office (where I put fresh
flowers if I have them) and so far, our dresser in the bedroom. (I’m pretty
sure she could jump up on it—she just hasn’t seen any need to do so yet.) Everywhere she goes, havoc! She loves to lie
on my desk while I’m working, and her favorite way to get there is to run into
the office, jump onto my rocking chair and spring onto the desk. With the
following results:
She also decides it’s time to play around 11 p.m. and frequently has to be locked into
the office for the night. She doesn’t seem to mind this—I hear her rolling her
ball around in there, and she doesn’t start crying to get out until morning.
However, she takes that time to explore the shelves and knock things over. I’ve
found many of the little odds and ends I keep on my desk on the floor in front
of it when I let her out in the morning. I use a docking station with my laptop
so I have a better keyboard and monitor, and Prudy likes to jump on the shelf
below my desk that holds my laptop, shutting the lid and turning it off,
usually when I’m right in the middle of typing a sentence.
So far she’s not an especially naughty girl (knock on wood)
and I know it’s only a matter of time before she’s a full-grown cat whose main
activity is sleeping. I’m enjoying her loving nature, playfulness and curiosity
while trying to stay one step ahead of her possible destructiveness (the silk
flower arrangement from the dining room table now lives on top of the china
cabinet, for example). For once, I’m not wishing away this stage, but appreciating
it, pausing many times a day to play with her or pet her. (And I save my
documents frequently!)
Often we (I) look forward too much, neglecting the present
for the future, believing that it will somehow be better than right now. I look
back at my life and see how fast it’s going, and how much time I wasted wishing
I would grow up, wishing I had a husband and family, wishing my child would
grow up…you see the pattern. I’m learning that appreciating the right now not
only improves my experience of the present, but builds a store of warm memories,
and hopefully, a happy future.
How do you appreciate the present?
 |
| Photo courtesy Alfred Borchard |
Here’s a lovely poem about snow falling on San
Antonio by Mo H. Saidi, an obstetrician and writer
who, in addition to his medical training, has a Master’s degree in English and
Literature from Harvard. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]
The Night of the Snowfall
The Night of the Snowfall
Snow falls gently in the Hill Country
covering the meadows and the valleys.
The sluggish streaks of smoke climb quietly
from the roofs but fail to reach the lazy clouds.
On Alamo Plaza
and under the flood of lights, the flakes float
like frozen moths and glow like fireflies.
They drop on the blades of dormant grass.
They alight on the cobblestones and live awhile
in silence, they dissolve before dawn.
The wet limestone walls of the mission
glow proudly after the night of snowfall.
Lately I’ve been living with someone who has nothing good to
say about me, who takes every opportunity to put me down and tell me I’m not
good enough. In fact, she’s kind of a witch.
She’s my inner critic.
When I put pen to paper, she’s right there with “helpful”
comments about how boring and bland my words are, and her most cutting
criticism is that I have nothing to say. This criticism becomes a
self-fulfilling prophecy and suddenly I don’t
have anything to say. No words come. I sit staring at my blank page, bereft of
ideas, frustrated that my writing time is slipping away with nothing to show
for itself.
My inner critic has nothing constructive to say. She (my
inner critic is a she) only tries to shut me down. Nothing I do is ever good
enough, and I am not even close to
being “good enough.” If she has good intentions, she’s going about it all
wrong.
You don’t have to be a writer, artist or “creative” person
to suffer from an inner critic. You may have one who trashes your appearance, athletic
ability, intelligence, childrearing, housekeeping, or level of hospitality.
When an area of life is important to you, you may find you have a small—or
large—inner voice criticizing you. Your inner critic may try to keep you from
doing what you want, or it may lash out when you’ve been human and made an
error.
Frankly, I’m tired of my inner critic’s B.S. I don’t need
any inner voices tearing me down. If she has nothing helpful to say, she can
just shut up. I don’t let real people talk to me like that—why do I let her get
away with it? Here are four things I’m doing to shut up my inner critic:
- Notice what she’s saying. Is there any truth at all or is it just generalized, unconstructive criticism? Occasionally, there may be a kernel of truth in what she says, but more often she makes big, sweeping statements that simply aren’t accurate. (I’m really not the most boring person in the world, for example.)
- Pretend I’ve overheard her criticizing someone else. Do I believe her, or would I argue with her, defending the other person?
- Talk back to her. Question her. Say, “Who cares what you think!” Tell her to shut up. Someone who speaks to me the way she does deserves little or no consideration for her feelings. One article I read suggested naming her, then telling her to shut up by name.
- Draw or paint a picture of her, then tape her mouth shut. I got this idea from Laure Ferlita—read her post “What Does Your Inner Critic Look Like?!” here.
 |
| My inner critic doesn't like how I've drawn her... |
I hope you don’t have such a vicious voice living inside
your head, but if you do, try one or more of the above techniques to silence
her. You don’t have to put up with that!
Do you have an inner critic? How do you silence him or her?
In Flourish: A Visionary New Understanding of Happiness and Well-being, Martin Seligman, a psychologist and one of the
pioneers in the field of positive psychology, builds on (and explains the
weaknesses of) his work on “authentic happiness theory,” refining it into what
he calls well-being theory. Seligman
writes, “I used to think that the topic of positive psychology was happiness,
that the gold standard for measuring happiness was life satisfaction, and that
the goal of positive psychology was to increase life satisfaction. I now think
that the topic of positive psychology is well-being, that the gold standard for
measuring well-being is flourishing, and that the goal of positive psychology
is to increase flourishing.”
In Flourish,
Seligman adds two more elements (Relationships and Achievement) to the three
elements already named in authentic happiness theory (remember them by using
the mnemonic PERMA):
- Positive emotion (of which happiness and life satisfaction are all aspects)
- Engagement (flow)
- Relationships
- Meaning
- Achievement
Each of these elements contributes to well-being without
defining it. Some are measured
subjectively and others are measured objectively. Seligman added these
additional dimensions because he feels that “life satisfaction holds too privileged
a place in the measure of happiness” because “how much life satisfaction people
report is itself determined by how good we feel
at the very moment we are asked the question.” Many people who lack a natural
cheerfulness may have more engagement and meaning in their lives than those who
are more outwardly “happy.”
Flourish is an
interesting book, and though it’s more theory than practical application, it
does contain some interactive exercises (I mentioned one of them here). The
book also contains a bit of history of positive psychology and Seligman’s
career, as well as a defense of positive psychology against critics.
What I took from the book was the idea that well-being was a
broader, richer concept than simple “happiness,” and that you can have
well-being without constantly feeling cheerful or “happy.” I don’t believe it’s
possible—or even desirable—to feel happy all the time. I do, however, feel that
pursing the elements of PERMA will help you build a more deeply satisfying—and,
yes, happier—life.
“What you think ‘the
real world’ is is composed directly of the stuff you see and read. If you
choose to read awful things, you’re going to think you live in an awful world.”
—Leonie
Dawson
“Everything
natural—every flower, tree, and animal—has important lessons to teach us if we
would only stop, look, and listen.”—Eckhart Tolle
I’ve had various pets nearly all my life. Aside from their
cuteness and cuddleability, pets can be expert teachers of life lessons (and if
you doubt me, check out the delightful book Guardians of Being). Currently, I have one elderly dog, a “teenage” kitten, and a
middle-aged horse. They’ve taught me many, many things (including don’t wear
any clothes to the barn you’re not prepared to ruin, and no, the kitchen counter is not tall enough to keep food away from either the kitten OR the dog…).
Here are a few of my favorite life lessons from my pets:
From Prudy:
There is a time for play and a time for cuddling. Know your
priorities and stick to them.
The world is to be explored.
Like everyone until they prove unlikable.
Assume everyone likes you until proven otherwise.
From Scout:
Do everything joyfully: get up in the morning, go to bed at
night, eat, announce your presence to the world.
Sleep when you’re tired, even if something interesting is
going on elsewhere.
Don’t put up with bull$&@, but only do as much as you
have to to get it to stop—don’t overreact.
From Tank:
You can make huge progress by taking many small steps.
Relationship is more important—and ultimately more
satisfying—than tricks or blind obedience.
Hold out for your favorite treats. Spit out the ones you
don’t like. Don’t waste time (or calories) on them.
Don’t let the turkeys get you down.
Animals live in the moment. They don’t worry about what might
happen tomorrow, or what the dog next door has, or what the horses in the next
paddock might be saying behind their backs. Seems like some pretty valuable
wisdom to me.
Have you learned any life lessons from an unusual source?
Welcome back to Field Trip Friday! This installment takes us
to one of my new favorite central Florida
locations: Bok Tower
Gardens Lake
Wales Bok Tower
Most visitors to central Florida
have heard of Busch Gardens Disney World —but probably not Bok
Tower Gardens Bok Tower
As lovely as the gardens are, the most striking and unusual
feature of Bok Tower
Gardens Singing Tower
Bok, who immigrated with his family from the Netherlands
when he was six years old, presented the gardens to the American people in 1929
in gratitude for the opportunities he had been given. He did his best to live
up to the advice given to him by his grandmother: “Make you the world a bit
better or more beautiful because you have lived in it.” I’m now curious about
Mr. Bok, and would like to read his autobiography.
You can read more about Bok
Tower Gardens Bok Tower Gardens America
Pinewood Estate
Pinewood Estate was built in the early 1930s for Charles Austin
Buck, a Bethlehem Steel vice president. The 20-room Mediterranean-style mansion
has a barrel-tile roof, beautifully carved doors and woodwork, and is situated
to provide a natural flow from house to garden. (Buck was an amateur
horticulturist and had the gardens laid out first, and the home positioned
later.) I don’t know if it was just the holiday decorations, but I thought the
home had a warm and friendly feeling, in contrast to the mansions in Newport, RI .
Each room was decorated for the holidays by volunteers and
sponsored designers, and you could vote for your favorite room at the end of
the self-guided tour. Volunteers and a historian were available to answer questions.
My favorite room:
In 1970, Edward Bok’s daughter-in-law, Nellie Lee Holt Bok,
led an effort to acquire Pinewood Estate (then called “El Retiro”) for Bok
Tower Gardens
 |
| The back of house |
The last thing we did before heading home was visit the
“Window By the Pond,” a small wooden building with a large window overlooking a
Florida bog setting. We sat
quietly watching birds feasting on the seed left for them, an anhinga drying
its wings, and one intrepid squirrel who jumped over the water to where the
seed was placed.
Every time we take a field trip, we wonder why we don’t do
it more often. Yes, it takes a bit more effort to find someplace of interest
and get ourselves there than it does to meet at Panera for lunch, but it’s
always worth the effort to fill the well. (And if you’re wondering about the
sketches, as usual, mine is unfinished—and lucky to even be started. I forgot
to bring paint, and had to borrow from Laure! But I did take a reference photo
and plan to finish soon. Really!)
Back to the Classics
Reading from the Mountain, Playing Mystery Bingo and Back to the Classics
January 08, 2014
It’s reading challenge time again. In 2014, I’m signing up
for two challenges, ones I’ve done before, and using a third challenge as
inspiration: the Back to the Classics Challenge. Reading is practically my favorite thing, and
I’ve decided to use that to gently step outside my usual comfort zone.
I’m returning to Bev’s (My Reader’s Block) Mount TBR Challenge in 2014, but stepping it up to the Mt.
Vancouver
Vintage mysteries are my favorite, possibly because I grew
up reading Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, and Erle Stanley Gardner, and this
will be my third vintage mystery challenge. This year, I’m playing Vintage Mystery Bingo, also hosted by Bev. I’m doing the Golden level, and might
consider the Silver level as well if I find myself reading enough books from
that era without putting strain on the other two challenges. I’ve already
finished Georgette Heyer’s A Blunt
Instrument and have started Sheila Pim’s Creeping Venom. This will be by far my easiest challenge—these
books are the equivalent of eating cookies: delicious and comforting.
And finally, I’m using the Back to the Classics Challenge,
hosted by Karen at Books and Chocolate, as inspiration for reading more
classics. (I’m not officially signing up because I’m not planning to write a
blog post about each classic that I read—I’m just going to use the categories
as guidelines.) I’ve wanted to read more classic literature but haven’t been
able to discipline myself to do so, even though “classic” doesn’t have to mean
difficult, long or boring. (Pride and
Prejudice is a classic and one of my all-time favorite books, for example).
This challenge seems within my reach, with six required books, and four more
optional choices. Of course, I have a number of unread classics on my TBR
shelves to choose from. (Thank you to Danielle at A Work in Progress for
linking to Karen’s challenge.)
It’s likely I’m biting off more than I can chew—but it’s a
new year and everything seems possible! Even putting a dent in my (almost
literal) mountain of unread books. (See the sidebar left for a link to my 2014 reading challenge log.)
Will you join any reading challenges in 2014?
Sometimes an idea just keeps presenting itself to me until I
have to pay attention. In this case, the idea is noticing and recording things that make me happy.
First, I read about something called the “What-Went-Well Exercise” (also called
“Three Blessings”), in Martin Seligman’s book, Flourish. He writes, “Every night for the next week, set aside ten
minutes before you go to sleep. Write
down three things that went well today and why they went well. You may use
a journal or your computer to write about the events, but it is important that
you have a physical record of what you wrote. The three things need not be
earthshaking in importance…but they can be important.” (Seligman also encourages
recording why the event happened, but I find that more problematic—many of my
happy events, like “I rode Tank today” or even “I finished everything on my
to-do list today,” don’t seem to have a “why” beyond “I just did it.” Maybe I’m
missing something?)
Next, I heard about the
100 Happy Days Challenge. Every day submit a picture of what made you happy
to a social media site such as Instagram, Facebook or Twitter, with the public
hashtag #100HappyDays. If you don’t want to do this publicly, you can come up
with your own hashtag that you share only with those you want to see your
photos, or you can send your photos to myhappyday(at)100happydays.com. (Of
course, you don’t need to share your photos with anyone, but it helps keep you
on track and “honest” if you do.)
According to the challenge organizers, “People successfully
completing the challenge claimed to:
- Start noticing what makes them happy every day;
- Be in a better mood every day;
- Start receiving more compliments from other people;
- Realize how lucky they are to have the life they have;
- Become more optimistic;
- Fall in love during the challenge.”
Doesn’t that sound great? For more information, or to sign
up for the challenge, click here.
My third exposure to this idea came from Dani Dipirro at
Positively Present: The Jar of Happy
Things. During all of 2013, she wrote down favorite moments on bright
scraps of paper, storing them in a jar (she had so many she had to buy a second
jar!). I love the visual of the jar filling up with happy moments, and the idea
of being able to read through a year’s worth of them all at once. Her post,
titled “Five Benefits of Noting Happy Moments,” is worth a read.
Why do any of these things? My reasons include, first, awareness
in the present moment of all that is good and happy in my life. I have the
habit of allowing myself to worry about what is not going right—or what bad
things might happen in the future—instead of appreciating the good things (and
there are plenty of them) right now.
Second, actually recording happy moments should help me remember
them in the future if and when bad things happen.
Third, what you focus on expands. My hope is that by
focusing on the happy moments, I will have more of them!
I’ve been doing the “What Went Right” exercise most nights
since I first read about it, and I’m quite tempted to join the #100HappyDays
Challenge—I love the idea of a photographic record of happiness! What about
you? How do you keep track of the happy moments in your life?
Welcome back! I hope the holiday season was all you wanted
it to be, and that you’re ready and rarin’ to start a new year—I know I am. But
first, a look back at the year that was. I saw this fun meme on Belle’s blog
(you can see other versions here and here). By looking at the first line of
each month’s first post, I can see what themes and experiences carried through my
blogging year. By clicking on the month, you can go to the original post. Here goes:
January: “Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in
fear, but around in awareness.”—James Thurber
February: Some weeks, just getting to Friday feels like an
accomplishment. (Still true. This post marked the first installment of
Field Trip Friday.)
March: Habits—good ones—can be our best friends.
April: Putting bed pillows onto the grass to freshen, it’s a
pretty humble subject for a poem, but look how Kentucky poet,
Frank Steele, deftly uses a sun-warmed pillow to bring back the comfort and
security of childhood. (This was Ted Kooser’s introduction to the poem “Part of
a Legacy.”)
May: Nearly all of us spend too much of our lives thinking
about what has happened, or worrying about what's coming next. (Another Kooser
poem introduction, this time for “The Peace of Wild Things.”)
June: Whew. (I sometimes subscribe to the less-is-more
school of writing! This was the first sentence of a piece about my son’s high
school graduation.)
July: Some time ago, I was reading one of those magazines
that try to help you simplify your life, and I came across an article touting
the benefits of exercising during “downtimes.”
August: With days growing longer—and hotter—and the kids
about to be out of school, I find myself remembering sweet summers of my
childhood, when I ran wild and free at my grandma’s house in Cottonwood,
California.
October: “The heart is not a machine.” (The first sentence
of a quote from Christina Rosalie’s A
Field Guide to Now.)
November: Perhaps this happens to you? (I wrote about the
energizing effect travel has on me.)
December: You’ve heard of Black Friday, Small Business
Saturday, Cyber Monday—how about Giving Tuesday?
I was kind of all over the place last year, wasn’t I? (As the
blog, so the life, perhaps?) My blog is a place for me to play and experiment,
to connect with other like-minded souls, and to practice a more personal style
of writing than I have been used to in my previous career. I love writing it
and try to make it interesting and helpful, not just a place for me to let off
steam, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Here’s to a new year of simple
pleasures and everyday adventures.
If you’re a blogger, look back at your blog posts from 2013.
What do they tell you about your blogging year? You could also do this if you
keep a journal: what is the first sentence of the first entry from each month? Would
it be possible to sum up each month in a single sentence?
