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.
My basement is already filling with toys and gifts for the SisterHood families. This is the TWENTY THIRD year of the SisterHood Holiday Gift Drive and I realize that it now has a momentum of it’s own. We’ve served anywhere from 250 to all 450 during these years.
It’s uncomfortable feeling the darkness within the belly, leaking into the day. The waking to news that frightens, angers, and confuses you. This world gone astray.
It was a day of exquisite Fall beauty, poignant pain, and inspiring hope. We stood among 600 people gathered at a local park for the 9th annual Out of the Darkness Walk. Many groups carrying photos of lovely humans or wearing t-shirts honoring those they lost to suicide.
I pulled into a crowded Target parking lot on a windy, sunny afternoon.nI’ve been doing a bunch of errands and had plenty of direct experience with busy roadways, impatient drivers, and crowded parking lots.
The Art of Becoming 6 week Journey offers an invitation to step outside the boundaries of your life as you know it. To go on a pilgrimage to the unknown. Within a circle of sisters.
I’m at home in the redwoods of California. My whole being knows this to be true. Until 10 months ago, I was not aware that such a place existed for me.
