From This Day On

Looking back over the past year, looking forward to the year to come. Realizing that, in fact, all that exists is this day, this moment.

So, if I have a New Year’s resolution, it is this: to do my best to make each moment count; to live each moment, to the extent possible, in furtherance of my personal mission and vision, as I perceive and understand them today – each day. (In recent months, I have spent a lot of time “soul searching” – my mission and vision statements have evolved. I’m still working on the wording, but the essence has been distilled.)

We all have a personal mission – whether we know it or not. Just as in business, we benefit from being able to articulate our true purpose. It helps us to focus. It reminds us of our core values. It guides our actions and choices. It clarifies.

Personal mission statements are often incomplete: mere career statements composed to fit our current job-seeking situation. A blurb on our resumés about what we want to accomplish, who we want to become in a particular area over the next one to three years, intended to catch the eye of a prospective employer.

But, our mission isn’t just a statement about what we do or what we want to achieve. It shouldn’t be confused with our “elevator speech.” Our personal mission statement is about our core values, goals, and actions; our commitment, and our contribution to others. (Think “missionary”.) What do you stand for? What are you going to contribute to the world? What are the opportunities or needs that you exist to address? What are you doing to address these needs? What principles or beliefs guide your actions, your work?

If we contemplate our personal mission in terms of our potential contributions, our lives become increasingly about the gifts we share, the gifts we give. Within this frame, we are more likely to pursue and find moments of joy and passion, while bringing goodness, beauty, laughter and light into our lives and the world.

Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.

- Lewis Carroll

How strange is the lot of us mortals. Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But, without deeper reflection, one knows from daily life that one exists for other people.

- Albert Einstein

There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit itself into the big jigsaw puzzle.

- Deepak Chopra

Gifts of the Magi

Maybe it’s just the season – a time for introspection and reflection, hope and resolutions. Maybe it’s the fact that this past year has been so difficult in so many ways. Maybe it’s because I feel so blessed in spite of the trials. Maybe it’s a sign of growth – maybe I’ve actually made another step toward self-actualization.

Something has happened – is happening. I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few months distilling my thoughts, feelings, values, core beliefs – and I’ve recovered, re-discovered my SELF. My sense of purpose – my true purpose, my mission and my vision are becoming clear – like my vision after cataract surgery!

Ironically, if I had successfully achieved my goal two years ago – and had retired – I wouldn’t be in this place now. I might’ve been in a good place, but (I kinda’ hate to admit this) my plan wasn’t THE plan. I believe from the center of my being that my path is yet unfolding before me; I’m not done. And, I think I will be able to do all this and all that – my work and my life are more closely aligned than I can ever recall.

I want you to be everything that’s you, deep at the center of your being.

- Confucius

Your work is to discover your work, and then with all your heart to give yourself to it.
- Buddha

A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.
- Albert Camus

One way or another, we all have to find what best fosters the flowering of our humanity in this contemporary life, and dedicate ourselves to that.
- Joseph Campbell

Laying the Foundation

My 8-month old grandson is growing by leaps and bounds. I now understand where the expression "bouncing" baby boy came from. Each day he reveals a new skill, a new expression, a new sense of awareness and curiosity, a new connection with his surroundings.

He's becoming more human everyday. And, I see his own unique "self" evolving. Fortunately, he is surrounded by people who love him - his mother and grandparents, cousins and great-aunt. He shares smiles and laughs freely and often. He shows determination, and is encouraged, applauded, for his accomplishments.

I am aware that our earliest interactions and relationships are the foundation upon which we build our self-esteem. Before we have any grasp of the language, our sense of self is shaped - if we are loved, we are lovable. If the people who love us, express their love and respect for each other, then we feel secure. The values of our most significant others embue their actions, and we begin to "learn" values through our observations and interactions.

This is a foundation that is sometimes difficult to unearth after we become adults. What has made us who we are? After years of growing, learning and changing - our intellect and our memory fail to connect or recall the experiences we had before words controlled our thoughts.

All grown-ups were children first. (But few remember it.)

--The Little Prince

Me, Myself & I

Throughout our lives, we wear a lot of different hats. We’re all defined by our roles, our jobs, and our relationships. We are perceived differently by the various people in our lives, based on the specific dynamics of our interaction with them. I am a wife, mother, grandmother, counselor, friend, sister, cousin, minister, business owner, co-worker, supervisor, employee . . . Well, you get the picture.

In truth, we are, all of us, multi-faceted gems. And the whole is more than just the sum of the parts! But, how many people ever know us truly, in our totality? How many of us even know our own complete, true selves?

[I once met a woman who introduced herself as, “I’m so-and-so’s wife.” No name, just her role. I asked what I should call her, and she seemed confused by the question.]

We evolve and grow, using our roles as the medium by which we come to see ourselves wholly. The difficulty is that, with each role, there come expectations – standards and rules by which we are judged. Am I a “good” wife? A “good” friend? We measure ourselves, our performance, our success, against these external yardsticks. How many of us get stuck in the predefined social persona associated with a single role? When we do, we lose sight of our personal values, our whole selves, our true purpose.

Or we feel conflicted because we don’t “measure up.” Little wonder that we occasionally feel “burnt-out,” “frustrated,” “abandoned,” “desperate.” We sense that “something’s missing.” We become depressed, dissatisfied, disillusioned. These feelings, or lack thereof, are symptomatic of the compartmentalization of our lives, and the isolation and separation of our “physical” from our “spiritual” selves. We lose sight of our whole self.

With joy and thanksgiving I say: I may be different things to different people, but I am constantly my SELF. And I am a work in progress.

To be nobody-but-yourself – in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.

e.e. cummings

The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

Joseph Campbell

Facing the Inevitable

Last week, I was on the Loyola University campus and was amazed at how young the students are. Goodness sakes, I'm old enough to be their grandmother. Was it really THAT long ago that I walked the quad?

The thing is that even though I am comfortable telling people my age, I guess sometimes I forget - or my inner self goes into denial. The number just doesn't mean anything. I don't feel so very different than I did 30 or 40 years ago. . .

I don’t remember getting old. It must have happened quite suddenly - overnight, while I slept, I suspect. I never saw it coming, and my best friends never told me. I wonder if my parents and grandparents had the same difficulty reconciling themselves with passing time.

I recall my father telling me once of seeing a young man jogging down the street, and thinking to himself that it looked to be quite an enjoyable exercise. So, he tried it, but found he had forgotten how to run. Papa was 86 years old.

It's okay - I know I’m old; I've been receiving offers from AARP for years now. And, I must be old because my girls are over 30 themselves - though I remember them still as I tied their hair with ribbons, and we shopped for Easter dresses. Somehow, I think, that my memories - always fresh, always evoking the feelings of one bygone moment or another - are responsible for my confused state.

Sensory memories, like acid flashbacks, are vivid and emotionally charged. Transporting me through time and space, rekindling life’s sparks. . . Like the smell of raspberries - sun ripened, just picked - and I am suddenly the carefree four year old, with stained fingers, on my Grandfather's midwestern farm.

Or, something in the stillness of a summer’s morning - that hints of the day it will be, but isn’t yet - and my father tells a younger me that there’s still time for one more set of tennis.

A melody or song recalls a dance, though my partner’s gone. The words and rhythms, nonetheless, conjure spirits of lost young loves.

The sweet dampness of mossy loam - as a nascent woman-child, I bring blankets and books, and lie face down in dappled shade, studying life and lifeforms under familiar boughs.

Or, I could be the co-ed I just passed when I hear the patter of rain on the roof. But I’m cutting class, sitting instead with a friend in his flat, drinking wine, talking of life, and love, and sophomoric philosophy.

Precious moments preserved in delicious, sensuous vignettes. And, I have 40 more years to look forward to. . .

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
Albert Camus

Other Voices . . .

Sometimes Life has a way of interrupting. Just stops you in your tracks. You're going along - quite nicely, thank you - with a vision of where you're heading. and out of the blue . . . SMACK!

In absence of any thoughts or words of my own . . .

Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.

Winnie the Pooh

Time flies when you're having fun. I just realized it's been 30 years since my life-changing decision to move to New Orleans. I thought it was just a temporary thing - going to UNO for a degree in Urban Studies. I thought I'd be able to keep one foot on the platform, while the other foot was on the train. But, no. It turned out to be a difficult, painful move as I left my boyfriend, other friends, my job and my dog.

Nevertheless, I was smitten by the city that has stolen so many hearts. I waxed romantic in August 1979 with this -

New Home New Orleans

Sunset in neon
chased by a
full fluorescent moon
-summer night in the City.

A cricket-chorus hums
through power lines,
pierced by the siren’s
nightingale song
-life lines in the City.

The City sighs
moist breath
against my skin.
Night’s darkness
encircles my eyes
-night owl in the City.

Oil colors on black velvet
fade to daylight grey
‘til One Shell Square
burns off the morning haze
-life times in the City.

For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes.
Dag Hammarskjold