I'll start living when this is over...

I've been struggling today with how to not forget I have only four weeks until the Big Day, and how to continue living in the meantime.  Living in the moment is pretty effective when you just have to "do", but less so when you have to plan what to "do" so when the right moment arrives you are "doing" the right thing for that moment. 

So I'm living way too much in my head, spending way too much time thinking of work when I can't actually work, and working way too much.This may be one of those times when you just have to put your head down and keep trudging on.  Taking a 4 credit history class in a six week session was one of those times for me.  Knowing exactly when something will end is the only thing that keeps you going.  Have you had one of those times? 

How not to create a personal manifesto

I've long been fascinated by words to live by, manifestos, organizing principles -- that magical list that, once written, refined and codified -- would lead to happiness, fulfillment, satisfaction.  Dang, there's another list.

I was recently offered the opportunity to share my personal manifesto, which led to an intensive round of research and thinking and wanting to talk about it with people who had little interest. Manifesto Item #1:  Don't think and talk about things too much.

Now even I recognize that "too much" is a very subjective term, and seems to denigrate thinking and talking.  It goes further than I want to go.  But refining the concept of Item #1 just leads to more of the same behavior.  Item #2:  Beware of circular traps. 

I recently developed a list of six seven principles for my personal manifesto, and realized something right away.  This list is a reflection of how I feel today, and would have been different a week ago, or a year ago, and will probably be different tomorrow.  I'm constantly writing profound insights into one journal or another that are totally cryptic and meaningless today.  One is even just a date with the words "never forget."  Item #3:  Things change.

And going back to Item #1, how can I share my manifesto with others without violating my principles?  Is the act of sharing such a list helpful or just hopeful?  Back when I used to study and practice fictional character development, I learned you need to "show, not tell."  So people should be able to recognize my principles by my actions, not by some list.  Whew.  That's harsh.

I like the people I like and I like them a lot.  I love the people I love and I love them a lot.  And I feed that like and love by sharing with them, and asking them to share with me.  Which leads to the question -- where is the sweet spot in Item #1?  What does "just enough" look like?  What I've only realized recently is that it is very different in each and every relationship.  Which leads me to the question -- how do I achieve authenticity (being my best, true self) within so many different kinds of relationships?  All of these questions, of course, lead me back to Item #1.  It appears I have unresolvable issues with #1, so I'm dumping it.

Today's version got easier to write when I discovered I only had to talk to myself, not offer something that would work for the whole world.  I learned this by reading the first statement.  I guess that's the test for how "good" your personal principles are -- can you turn to them for guidance when you're in a tough spot? 

Today's Manifesto: 
Remember whose life you're living. 
You can have almost anything, but you can't have everything. Choose.*
When you start to panic, give yourself wise, mature, unconditional love.
Either do something about it or shut up about it.
Do it now.
Be honest with yourself, but be kind to yourself.
Never forget your intention**.  When you forget your intention, notice.  When you remember, start again.


*This is revised from one of the old maxims I used to employ to bore my children during long car trips.  It's shorter and more forceful now, less gentle, more realistic.  Exactly what I need today. 

**I have a lot to say about intention, which I intend to do, but for now I'm defining it as what you mean to do in any given situation or relationship, bundled up with how you wish to do it.

Empty Time

Since I'm not getting much done in the way of original content, I thought I'd share good things I'm reading.

http://marthabeck.com/2012/02/making-time-for-nothing/

Four months

Nearly four months since my last post.  I'm trying to figure out what I might have done in that time.  What I was doing.  Working, I guess.  A lot.  A trip up north, the holidays.  I find it easier to list all the things I think I might have done, would like to have done, but for some reason, didn't.  There is no story arc to the last four months, no trajectory.  No raison d'être.  If it would be helpful, here is the pronunciation:  ʁɛzɔ̃ d‿ɛːtʁ  

So let's go back to the little black box and Irma.

At about 10 o'clock, Irma found herself sitting in the little wing chair in the corner of the living room, the chair no one ever sat in, the one upholstered with hot pink peonies on a beige background.  She was thinking about buttons and coffee stains and little gold stars and feeling disoriented.  Her left leg kept bouncing, even when she reminded herself to stop.  She hadn't had that problem since she was ten years old.  Sit still, Irma. 

next

Irma picked up one of the stars, noticing that it reminded her of the pattern of her first kitchen curtains.  There were 4.2 reasons why she didn't really want to be reminded of that.  Before she could stop herself, she brushed her hand over the bush, poking her hands several times on the thorns, and all the stars fell to the ground.

Week Three

Irma pulled aside the curtain on the front door, peeked out, then stepped outside to check the weather.  No point in getting dressed until you knew about the weather.  Fifty-three degrees.  Partly sunny.  Okay.  Turning to go back inside, her attention was caught by the holly bush at the bottom of the front steps.  It was sprinkled here and there with shiny gold stars, about the size of a dime.  Moving closer, she poked at one, and it fluttered to a lower branch. 

Dear Jon Stewart,

I'm start to think you already have your hands plenty full dealing with all those people in Washington.  Man o Man!  How can they say such crazy stuff and get away with it?  I make just once teensy comment about the size of you know who's butt and only three other people hear it, and suddenly I'm off the Paint the Sunday School Room Committee and Lori Proctor, who has absolutely zero taste in paint, is in!  It just doesn't seem right.  It's okay, though, I'm not sure I fit in as well with those folks as my mom would like. 

So anyway, I'm still watching the show if I'm home and I'm still up, but I'm starting to see that the sort of problems I wanted you to solve are just not that big of a deal.  Except you might actually get somewhere with my ideas, unlike those people with the dull suits.

More

After the kitchen tidy-up, Irma checked the mouse trap under the sink--nothing.  She noticed the knob on the cupboard door was loose again, so she tightened up the screw.  On her way out of the kitchen, still pondering that coffee stain, her bare left foot stepped on something flat and cold.  A coin? she wondered.  No.  A button.  A red four-hole button.  Curiouser and curiouser.

Becca's Box

Rebecca has given me a gift that is essentially a writing challenge, a way to keep at it.  I am required to share one of my daily efforts each week.  Here goes:

Irma made some noodles for the soup she planned for dinner, then spent an hour cleaning the kitchen.  There was a stain on the counter she found particularly disturbing, a faint brown ring that she was sure must be coffee, yet she didn't remember even having coffee recently, let alone spilling it. 

I admit it's a weak effort.  But this is about practice.

Dear Jon Stewart,

So my boyfriend Justin (who is this close to being my ex boyfriend Justin) says I'm a clueless idiot to actually think you're going to do anything about the stuff I've been suggesting.  Actually, he says he doesn't even think you or anyone else even reads my letters.   

So it would help a lot with Justin, my boss and my mom, if you could just say like, hey Cindi, I'm getting your letters, but I can't do anything about them right now.  Or wink maybe.  Then I'd know. 

I'm really starting to wish I hadn't told them.  But I'm watching your show every night now.  Just in case.

All the best!

Cindi,
from you know where!

And Another Thing

Dear Jon Stewart,

I’ve been watching your show, well okay, just twice, but I also asked my boss, who never misses, to see if you’ve mentioned that left turn thing I wrote you about, and so far nothing.  But probably you do your stuff in advance, and you just need time to fit it in.  Except the stuff seems pretty recent, like today even, so maybe it’s just been a busy time.

I’ve got another one, and maybe since you haven’t talked about the left turn thing, you could just tack this on. 

It’s about grocery carts.  You know what I’m going to say.  Well maybe not, you probably live in New York City or something, and do they even have grocery carts in New York City?  Seems like there wouldn’t be room.

But here, or over in Evansville where I mostly shop, there is a big problem with people not putting their carts in the cart corral, even though the sign says you should.  Some signs even say you HAVE to.  I mean with the wind and everything, and sometimes the best parking spots being wrecked because there’s a gosh darned cart in the middle of it.  If it were just you and me, to be honest, I wouldn’t say gosh darned, I’d say the other thing, but you never know.  People just get so pissy about stuff like that.

So.  If you could just tell people, if they are going to take the cart outside, then they should put it away.  They don’t want their car getting dinged up, do they?  They don’t want the best spots plugged up with loose carts, do they?  Geez.

Thanks again,

Cindi

Boonville, IN

Purpose in Life

Dear Jon Stewart,

I figure you are the right guy to help me with this, because a lot of people listen to you.  Well, my boss listens to you, and he’s the kind of guy who listens to stuff a lot of other people listen to.

The problem is this.  Could you tell people who are first in line at the left turn green arrow that their only purpose in life is to watch the green arrow light, and go when it turns green?  I mean, it’s fine if they take a second or two to make sure no dickhead is running the red light.  But otherwise, they are not to take their eyes off that light, and then just go for Christ’s sake?

Thanks.  I mean, it just isn’t fair for them to sit there doing whatever else they’re doing, like finding a better radio station or checking their teeth for poppy seeds or whatever, then notice the left turn arrow is yellow, THEN they go, but nobody else gets to.  You see what I mean?

So if you could just mention this, I’m sure it help.  For some people.  For other people, there is just no cure for stupid.

Thanks a bunch,

Cindi

Boonville, IN