I felt like a kid in a candy store.
Arriving to help my friend pack up her office in preparation for a move, I encountered two rooms with wall to wall book cases. This was my idea of heaven. My conversational skills receded as my head tilted to browse hundreds of titles lining the shelves. So much knowledge! My curiosity and delight threatened to take over.
I got a hold of myself. After all, I had a job to do.
I was there to corral a fellow book lover into letting go of a lifetime of really cool books. To release a multitude of journals, notebooks, and workshop notes. Ouch. That’s the thing about downsizing. You can’t take it with you. Well, you can take 10 tightly packed bankers boxes. A treasure trove of delight awaiting a new home.
As books were being offered to me, I realized the book addict in me was being tempted.
I got my head clear and activated my purpose for being there. It wasn’t so I could “shop.” After two days of organizing, packing, tossing, and donating books, one room was clear. With a plan and a sprinkle of hope that one day those other shelves would be emptied, I headed home.
Taking only 3 books with me. Wait, I meant 4.
With one being mailed to me. Okay, 5. And 3 photos of books I have to order. And 8 books to pass on. A few things for Soul Sanctuary. One new journal for some special person. And a really cool workshop handout. That’s it. Scout’s honor.
Here’s the skinny on those 3 books.
I put the yoga book away. Very interesting, but I thought I’d wait ’til I returned to practicing yoga. The Egyptian Goddess? I peeked, but I’m not so keen on diving in yet. That will take some attention. I have a pile on my shelf where she went.
Why put off exploring this beneficial wisdom?
I discovered the answer by reading the third book cover to cover.
Light bathing on my deck the following afternoon, surrounded by birdsong and breeze, I devoured this small gem. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but I did grab this book because of its title.
The War of Art.
Cleverness intrigues me. And it was a small book.
It was a good thing the sun was shining on my comfort and curiosity. Because the author, screenwriter Steven Pressfield, calls it like it is. He offers a map to bring creativity into form. Taking your art – painting, writing, musical composition, entrepreneurial pursuits, or [put your art here] – and bringing it out of the realm of idea into material reality.
He challenges the artist to create consistently and with a diligence I’ve never achieved. And now I know why.
Pressfield distinguishes a profession, such as me being a psychologist and a mother, from a professional approach to creating art.
Even reading a few pages about what this means is enough to offer a mindset intervention. Yet, perhaps not quite sufficient for changing a life long pattern of being an amateur artist.
The magic word in this book? Resistance.
Page after page. Example after example, he describes the resistance which lies within each of us. Ready to strike with a healthy dose of self sabotage, distraction, doubt or any of those internal obstacles which inhibit success.
Resistance crashes dreams. Sometimes before they get lift.
After a while, I stopped reading as an “artist” and saw the influence of resistance across so many areas of my life.
This tiny book was a lovely wake up call. Kind of like an artistic bitch slap.
It stings a bit, but it’s a good sting if your creativity longs to express more fully.
Just when my cheeks were red and sore, I got to the good part of his map. I’d hate to spoil the end of any book. Let’s just say any artist who mentions resistance, resilience, and creativity along with angels and the muse has got my full attention.
I’m still a book lover. Piles tend to manifest in my home as if out of thin air.
They are artistically arranged in every room, bringing me great pleasure and a nugget of wisdom any time I wander into the open page. I guess that makes me a “professional” book lover and seeker of knowledge.
As for the artist in me. Well, she’s still an amateur.
An amateur who is appreciating the artistry and creative capacity of my inner resistance. I’ve got a lot to unpack and toss here. Downsizing my resistance so I can upsize my professional engagement of the muse. Sounds like a map I can follow.
Moral of this story? Good things happen when you clean your room.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Are you prone to procrastination? A recent study from Bishop’s University in Canada suggests that procrastinators may have higher levels of stress (no duh). And a potential for lower levels of self-compassion. Ok, that makes sense. Increasing self-compassion helps you recognize the downside of procrastination (and other kinds of “resistance”) without getting lost in negative rumination and emotions. Increasing self-compassion may help you decrease stress, disrupt negative self-view, and support positive behavioral change.Sounds like a map you can follow.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
ia Sophia has arrived. This “Way of Wisdom” offers an invitation to step upon a Living Spiral Path and discover a new understanding of what it means to embody the Mystical Feminine.
For the past fifteen years I have lived and taught within the Mystical Feminine. I have sat within many circles and immersions with women as we explored how to practically and powerfully engage Feminine wisdom in everyday life.
When my daughter was in eighth grade, she and her Girl Scout troop were beginning to explore ideas for their individual Silver Award projects.
Around our dinner table, we tossed around possibilities. Nothing landed. Nothing stirred real interest. So we encouraged her to do what we have always trusted. Stay open. Listen. Pay attention to what people are talking about in the world.
Driving into Soul Sanctuary last weekend, I noticed the trees were engaged in a wild dance.
I should have paid closer attention as I got out of the car, because the wind nearly took me with it. Walking to the door, I had to lean in and brace myself for a moment just to stay upright. The cold whipped through my clothes and found every uncovered space, sharing its bone-numbing chill.
We recently had a big snow in my neck of the woods.
Everyone was hunkered down. The fridge was full, chicken soup was bubbling on the stove, and my book pile sat patiently on the coffee table. As the snow covered the neighborhood and the plows dumped fresh mounds over our carefully shoveled walk, we took turns peeking outside.
As a kid, snowstorms were pure joy.
“I think we need to be friends.”
Those were the first words out of my mouth when I introduced myself to Rev. Hilda Covington. We’d just finished a county meeting of nonprofit mental health and social service agencies. She was the presenter that month. We almost didn’t meet because Hilda arrived an hour and a half late to a two-hour meeting.
Life has a rhythm. It speeds up and slows down according to mysterious forces.
Your personal rhythm dances with the celestial bodies, seasons of the year, developmental phases, and the pulse of your Soulful evolutionary process. Living in harmony with these rhythms is in many ways hard to understand as it is a complicated and deeply personal process. Your rhythm dances with everyone’s rhythm in the grand Cosmic Dance.
