WordSisters

Category: Personal Growth

  • Everything That Rises Must Converge

    Everything That Rises Must Converge

    405My experience as a Loft Mentor Series speaker.

    It had been going on for some time before I noticed. My daughter was choosing an adult out of the people milling about at the Loft Literary Center after the Mentor Series Reading, taking him or her by the hand, and leading the person to open floor space. Once there she generated a dance routine for the adult to follow. After their two-minute routine was complete, she released the adult back into the gathering and chose a new person. Each person learned and performed a never-done-before dance routine. My son followed along videotaping each jig.

    Who is this girl? And what magnetism does she possess that adult men and women will willingly leave the fold (and food) to dance with her? Even Jerald Walker and Mark Anthony Rolo, acclaimed authors and mentors, followed her as did many others.
    All I could do was stare and see if anyone needed saving. They didn’t. They were enjoying the girl.

    At three-years old, this girl could not talk intelligibly. Part 3 of my memoir, House of Fire, speaks to this. Thank God for the goat, it begins. During one of our camping trips, both my partner Jody and I thought that the other person had the girl. When I understood that neither one of us did all I could think was, The girl can’t tell anyone her name, where she lives, or who her moms are. We sprinted back to the the animal pens, which was the last place we saw her. She and the white double-bearded goat stood in companionable silence, the goat chewing her cud, the little girl waiting for her mothers to return.

    The girl was diagnosed with articulation disorder and on two occasions we were asked by the school district to have her tested for autism. Jody and I refused. We were afraid she’d be mislabeled.

    I mentioned this to a fellow mentee on Friday night, told her that I was in awe of the girl. She said that the girl just needed the right fertilizer and that Jody and I provided it for her.

    I think she’s right.

    I thought about myself. How my life’s work has been to be visible, to stand and speak my truth.

    All this love, this fertilizer, brought the very best out of the girl and me on Friday night, the night of my Loft mentorship reading.

    I recalled a quote,

    “Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge.” Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

    Yellow tulips flowers. (3)[1]I did the only thing that I could do when we got home. I presented the girl with a bouquet of tulips that I was given. After all, she gave quite a performance.

  • Revising My 10-Point Plan for Happiness (a.k.a. the Lure of Possibility)

    More than 30 years ago, a good friend and I regularly launched what we mockingly called our “10-Point Plan for Happiness.” Our plans always included these steps: Quit going to the bars so much, especially during the week. Stop dating losers. Work out more. No more French fries/potato chips/chocolate or whatever indulgence was tempting us that week. Oh yeah, and save more money. But over the years, I’ve shortened up the list.

    Even as my friend and I made those resolutions, we knew we were likely to backslide.

    But there’s something very appealing about setting goals and having a plan—it helped me feel in control of my life. Setting goals is the means to accomplishing something and the counterpoint to daydreaming, but never doing. If I just follow these simple steps, I can make my life better—who wouldn’t want that?

    Butterfly

    Believing change is possible is ingrained in the American psyche. The lure of possibility is undeniable. If you’re fat and out of shape you can be transformed, especially if you win a chance to be on The Biggest Loser. If you’re clueless about clothes and your personal appearance, Stacy and Clinton can reform you on What Not to Wear. If you’re a philandering politician, you can humble yourself, ask your spouse and voters to forgive you and after some time has passed, you can be re-elected like U.S. representative Mark Sanford (ex-governor of South Carolina).

    I believe real change is possible, but it isn’t fast or easy—it takes a lot more effort than making lists as I did in my 20’s or a going on a whirlwind clothes-buying spree. The people I’ve known who have reinvented themselves worked hard at it for years.

    Sometimes my life feels like it’s one big Continuous Quality Improvement project. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that the changes I need to undertake are refinements, not sweeping transformations. So I try to be a better writer, and I tinker with how to squeeze in more time for projects I enjoy, travel, family, friends, and fun. That focus has made my life richer and more fulfilled.

    I no longer believe that I’m capable of making major improvements to myself . . . or that I even need to. That’s not smug self-satisfaction, but another way of saying I’m learning to accept my flaws. I’ll keep trying to think before I speak. I’ll also try not to offer advice unless asked. However, I know I’m going to backslide sometimes, and even though I’ll fall short on those goals (and others), I’m still basically OK.

    If the goal is happiness, perfection is not required  . . . or even useful. So my current Plan for Happiness has a mere three points:

    1. Be kinder to myself— accept and forgive my shortcomings.
    2. Continue to focus on being healthy (food, exercise, stress management), but don’t fret too much about any of those items.
    3. Continue to spend more time doing what I love, less on what I don’t.

    What works for you?

  • Another Reason to Love Reading

    Ever since I learned how to read, I have loved books. Through novels, I’ve traveled to medieval Europe, ancient Israel, Ireland in the early 1900’s, Appalachia in the 1930’s, New England in the mid-1800’s and many other times and places. Books have given me a glimpse into life on a Native American reservation, what it might mean to be a Chinese courtesan or a Japanese American during WWII, to grow up black in America 200 years ago or now, to live on a tea plantation in India or be a first-generation Indian American.

    P1030718

    I have long believed that reading literature has given me gifts of insight and empathy. Obviously, reading about a culture is not the same as living in it, but now there’s evidence that reading literature helps people develop empathy and the skills that psychologists call “theory of mind”—the ability to intuitively understand and predict other people’s feelings, beliefs, and intentions.

    In a recent article in the Star Tribune, Robert M. Sapolsky, a professor of neuroscience at Stanford University and the author of “A Primate’s Memoir,” describes research about how theory of the mind develops, “Subjects who read literary fiction, which for purposes of this study meant fiction that had won or been nominated for an important literary prize, performed significantly better in all those domains—exactly the type of skills associated with theory of mind—than subjects who read other things  or nothing at all.” He characterized “other things” as nonfiction magazine articles or popular fiction.

    So next time someone tries to characterize my desire to read literary novels as “not really doing anything,” I can smugly (but very empathetically) think, “I’m improving my intuitive skills and exercising my abilities to understand other people’s thoughts and experiences!”