“Still, what I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled – to cast aside the weight of facts and maybe even to float a little above this difficult world. I want to believe I am looking into the white fire of a great mystery. I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing – that the light is everything – that it is more than the sum of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.”
-Mary Oliver, House of Light
Britt-Marie is someone who has lived her entire life for others. Now it’s time to figure out who she is. This book is literally laugh-out-loud funny and unexpectedly unique. Its charming story is full of well-drawn characters and refreshing lessons about humanity. I absolutely loved it!
At a certain age almost all the questions a person asks him or herself are really just about one thing: how should you live your life? If a human being closes her eyes hard enough and for long enough, she can remember pretty well everything that has made her happy. The fragrance of her mother’s skin at the age of five and how they fled giggling into a porch to get out of a sudden downpour. The cold tip of her father’s nose against her cheek. The consolation of the rough paw of a soft toy that she has refused to let them wash. The sound of waves stealing in over rocks during their last seaside holiday. Applause in a theater. Her sister’s hair, afterwards, carelessly waving in the breeze as they’re walking down the street. And apart from that? When has she been happy? A few moments. The jangling of keys in the door. The beating of Kent’s heart against the palms of her hands while he lay sleeping. Children’s laughter. The feel of the wind on her balcony. Fragrant tulips. True love. The first kiss. A few moments. A human being, any human being at all, has so perishingly few chances to stay right there, to let go of time and fall into the moment. And to love someone without measure. Explode with passion. A few times when we are children, maybe, for those of us who are allowed to be. But after that, how many breaths are we allowed to take beyond the confines of ourselves? How many pure emotions make us cheer out loud, without a sense of shame? How many chances do we get to be blessed by amnesia? All passion is childish. It’s banal and naive. It’s nothing we learn; it’s instinctive, and so it overwhelms us. Overturns us. It bears us away in a flood. All other emotions belong to the earth, but passion inhabits the universe. That is the reason why passion is worth something, not for what it gives us but for what it demands that we risk. Our dignity. The puzzlement of others and their condescending, shaking heads.
I always enjoy being transported to a completely different place and time. This was a suggested read on my Kindle when I finished I Always Loved You Buchanan did such a great job with this book. So much of it is based on fact… 1870s Paris, Degas’ paintings, and a notorious trial of the age. Living in squalor, the 3 sisters in this story have to fend for themselves, working long hours and putting their success in the hands of the Paris Opera. All three sisters had my heart from the beginning. Recommend.
We are the daughters of sewing maids and fruit peddlers, charwomen and laundresses, dressed up and painted to look like something we are not. All the years of practicing, the sweat and toil, the muscles aching at the end of the day, it comes down to learning trickery—to leap with the lightness that lets the theatergoers think of us as queens of the Opéra stage instead of scamps with cracking knees and heaving ribs and ever-bleeding toes. Sometimes I wonder, though, if for the very best ballet girls, the trickery is not a little bit real, if a girl born into squalor cannot find true grace in the ballet.
Barry Gordon, a physicist as well as a feng shui practitioner, says “Every thing, even the sticky front door that doesn’t open all the way, has meaning. Every thing, every action is intentional, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious. Feng shui brings the unconscious in our environment back into consciousness. That brings the beliefs and feelings back into consciousness. Then we have choice and can create our universe consciously.”
Everyone, regardless of culture or creed, has employed some system of thoughtful placement with regard to their living environment and furnishings. Proper feng shui is purposefully arranging the stuff around you to gain positive results.
Everything that happens in life can be boiled down and placed into nine categories, or life situations. These categories are spatially represented by areas in your living quarters. The nine areas, once again, are (1) Prosperity, (2) Fame and Reputation, (3) Relationships and Love, (4) Creativity and Children, (5) Helpful People and Travel, (6) Career, (7) Skills and Knowledge, (8) Family, and (9) Health and Other.
I have to admit that my house doesn’t conform (at all) to the arrangement Carter writes about, so I gave up about halfway through. You can also arrange each individual room to adhere to the layout, and I may go back and do that.
What’s the number one thing that gets in the way of us being kind to ourselves? Our expectations of ourselves, and those high standards we’re always striving for.
Spoken like someone who’s held herself to unrealistic standards and ended up full of stress, anxiety and depression, this little guidebook urges “strivers” to become more self-aware. Exeter “found that to feel happy, content and fulfilled, I needed three things to be present: Passions: things that got me out of bed in the morning with a smile on my face. Priorities: knowing what actually mattered most to me, and then making the conscious decision to focus hard on those and let go of the rest. Productivity: the ability to get things started and finished.
It simply means we accept having finite resources (time, energy, support, patience) available to us at any given moment in time.
This book has three main sections: Burnout, Overwhelm and Hamster on a Wheel. Each section talks about how we end up feeling that way, and how we can use Passions, Priorities and Productivity to live in the sweet spot of our life. Missing passion? Burnout. Lack of priorities leads to Overwhelm. Lack of Productivity feels like a hamster on a wheel. I particularly liked her questions and tips for identifying your Passions, most common causes of Overwhelm, and how best to narrow our focus. Recommend for a smart, quick jolt of common-sense advice that works.
44 pages of pure emotional beauty and pain. The stark contrast of life with a new baby compared to the generic harshness of everyday life, the pain and natural movement of childbirth, bedrest and it’s meditative wonder and sorrow. Schwartz’ words are charged with raw emotion. Her poetry tells of constant change and raw supplication to the waves of daily life. Highly recommend.
Leslie is one of my friends, and I read her book of poetry when it came out a few months ago. But… she has since gifted me with a signed copy so I’d love to give my original copy to one of you. Leave a comment to enter… or, even better, tell me what you’re reading lately!
WHY would I spend so much time and energy on beautifying my home? I must love doing it. I have been complaining that it’s taken over absolutely everything, but that is because of the way I’ve dived into 20 projects at once, in true Naomi style.
Just like we aspire to a healthy body, a healthy home represents that same balance of energy. Our homes are extensions of us. I want my home to accurately reflect our loves and interests, as well as feel comfortable for us. Some rooms in our house, especially the bedroom and living room, were stuck in the early-married days. Our home redos all started because we want to live in a place that accurately reflects us.
At first, we planned to move to a new home or buy a lot and build exactly what we want. (Mr. B turned to me the other day and said how glad he is that we didn’t go the build-it-yourself route. If the few home projects I’m doing are too much, imagine… But actually, I wonder. We wouldn’t be living there amidst the chaos!) For whatever reason, we came to our senses and decided to humbly enjoy what we already have.
Any clutter or mess bothers me, and part of my huge effort these past couple of months has been to seriously question the systems we have in place. Rather than organize what I have, I’ve decided to, for the most part, get it out of here. For example, we have 2 full dresser drawers of electronic mess that has been with us as long as I can remember… cables and chargers and wires. I got Mr. B to narrow that down to one small bin that I’ve labeled and put on a closet shelf. Our linen closet was the same: we had sheets for bed sizes we don’t own!
I think all of these decisions are a form of self-care. It is taking me a long time because you can’t sift through years of accumulation in 5 minutes. Even when I went through the house a couple years ago, holding objects in my hand to see if they brought me joy, I still ended up with hidden clutter, things I felt we should keep just in case. That bread machine that took up half its cabinet (finally given away), the computer box (recycled), the office wardrobe (donated finally).
It’s hugely healing to have empty space. Every wall doesn’t need art. Every shelf doesn’t need to be full.
Of course, the part I like is the finished look. These pillows came from 4 different places but I like how they blend together. The mix of softness and texture pleases me to no end.
What drives me crazy is living with the unfinished projects.
The missing walls, the old furniture donations that haven’t yet been picked up, the returns that would take me a full day to take back.
Of course, I’m writing this when I’m not feeling my best, so I am not thinking clearly, I realize. Plus, this is a time in my cycle when I want to be alone, not surrounded by painters in several rooms, wallpaper guys playing their loud music, and contractors loudly cutting drywall and tile.
But I am pushing through because I can see how it’s going to be done fairly soon and it’s going to look so nice. We are going to enjoy our home for years to come.
How to be a slacker: a guide for perfectionists and overachievers
I’ve got a stomach virus that sent me straight to bed. You’ve most likely experienced this so I’ll spare you the details. What is interesting to me is that it is quite literally keeping me to my promise of doing no house projects this weekend. I told Mr. B I would rest and enjoy myself… no running errands, no taking boxes to the recycling bin, not even dropping the old picture frames at Goodwill… all things that I am desperate to do. (In fact, I almost exhausted myself putting those boxes IN my car that I had to take them right OUT, muttering, “who am I kidding?”) I can’t even put in a load of laundry.
I guess it’s a lesson I need to learn. In theory, letting some things sit undone is fine. But why is it that it physically bothers me even to see it? I am never able to “get to it when I get to it.” Hmm.
I was reading the post linked above that I wrote 2 years ago and loving all your comments, and I realized I am no better now than I was then at figuring out my values and priorities and living from there.
I’ll be thinking about it from my bed…
Friends, I apologize for the lack of content this week. Here’s what I’ve been up to. Feels like a full-time job! And no, I’m not doing it myself.
Scene: The family car.
Me: “Why are all the flags at half-mast?”
Mr. B: “Ah, you didn’t see the news yet.”
SG piping up from the back seat: “What are you guys talking about?”
Do you tell them anything???
I’ve read many articles about this on parenting blogs lately because there has been such a plethora of events of disgusting hatred and violence. I like this one best. The thing is, I want my own child to feel that the world is safe and relatively predictable. I want her to sleep well at night and learn and have fun during the day. Maybe that’s not “reality,” but I’m ok protecting her childhood for as long as I can.
As we watched fireworks on July 4, I found myself telling SG why we celebrate. I told her how we have the opportunity to do anything and be anyone in America. How we celebrate diversity and are a melting pot of unique people and cultures that add up to a rich blend of strengths and stories. I told her that our country is often a respite for others who are not able to practice their religion where they came from. I told her about immigrants looking for a better life here because they can earn a living and care for their family. I spouted off all the ideals of America and everything I wish were true.
Ah, America. Our less-than-ideal country that we insist on celebrating with fireworks and turkey dinners. The place where anyone can purchase insane weaponry to use against their fellow citizens. Where we can’t make personal decisions about our own body without street protest from random strangers. Where the 2 top presidential candidates are hated and the entire race is a farce. Where one human being turns against another because of their beliefs, their skin color, their religion… those very same demographics our country was established to celebrate. Where you don’t know if the next violence will occur at your neighborhood Walmart, a movie theatre, your kids’ school, or on the very same road you’re driving on.
I hope such violence is the exception because I believe in the ideals of our country, though I am discouraged and disappointed and the first to spout off sarcastic comments about our materialism, greed, and short-sightedness. I plan to continue to gloss over such hatred and lack of unity in my discussions with my daughter. Maybe when she’s older, we will talk about it. Maybe not.
