Intersecting Dreams and Business

Once I knew a teacher who had a dream to open a European-style deli, which she eventually did. The decor was perfect. The food was wonderful. What she hadn't taken into account was what her role would be in that dream. While the deli was everything she'd imagined, standing on her feet making sandwiches all day wasn't. And she hadn't anticipated just how much she would be tied to the restaurant. In many ways, her teaching gig afforded a much better lifestyle.

For years, I wrote novels. My goal was to create the feeling you get when you watch a 1940's movie. Something like Casablanca or Desk Set. Not too cerebral or clever...just little slices of how romantic love can transform ordinary lives. And while the quality of writing got me an audience with a couple of top agents and editors, the business portion had me denied. It wasn't the product they needed to put on the shelf. You know, the thing that filled the hole in their offerings.

It occurs to me that dreams and business have a twitchy relationship. Sometimes art and commercially-viable rocket to unprecidented success and sometimes very talented artists spend their lives in angst because they don't get to do what they love full time. Are there other options? Something between being a rock star and playing for free for friends in your living room?

This photo was taken by b.campbell65. It might surprise you after looking through the photographs to find out Bruce isn't a professional photographer. He is actually an attorney. (And as far as I know, not living in angst because he isn't pursuing photography full time.)

What if sometimes it is okay simply to have depth? To have vocations and avocations that aren't aligned. One of the most gifted musicians I know manages a storage complex. My most talented poet friend is a preschool teacher. If any of them transformed their art into a business, their day-jobs would suffer for lack of them.

Ever wonder if Thomas Kincade still enjoys painting? That strikes me every time I pass his showroom in a mall...

A Beautiful Audacious Idea...

Maybe it is all of the election hype, but my thoughts for the past week have centered on a single phrase: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..."

Sometimes, a group of people with a beautiful, audacious idea will express something that resonates as inexorably true. And what begins as heresy to those in power stirs the hearts of others.

Philadelphia, the Underground Railroad, Normandy, the Berlin Wall, Tiananmen Square, Not for Sale... The most worthwhile endeavors in the world have to do with freedom.

So to the heretics, the abolitionists, the radicals and the freedom fighters...carry on. The beautiful, audacious idea still needs to be told.

A Bird by Bird Day...

Ever have so many competing priorities that you think your head might explode? Yesterday when a good friend called to ask for a favor it hit me that I'm there. (It was an easy favor, but I've been too gacked for that to matter.)

John and I sat down and figured out what I could and could not offload (thank you, John), then I spent today having a "Bird by Bird" day. (If you've read Anne Lamott's book by the title, you know the reference. Her brother was sitting at the table crying because he'd waited too long to do his science report on birds. Her father's advice was, "Just take it bird by bird son. Bird by bird.")

So one by one, I've gone through my e-mails. Forwarding, answering, acting... I'm also about half way through creating my presentation for next week's conference. (Which is taking forever because there is too much content. Hard to decide what is in and what is out.)

Whenever my computer hung up--seems to do that a lot lately--I did dishes and laundry. I also got to visit with Chase--who was in town this weekend--after he got back from church and a flag football game with friends; took a break to go to a picnic (egg on spoons race included) and as an added bonus, a friend of mine from high school uploaded some hilarious photos to Facebook. (I've added one of me circa 1981 to this post!)

I was also interviewed for an article in Reader's Digest today. (Will keep you posted on that one when it comes out.)

This evening I pack for Houston tomorrow, and hopefully get the presentation to the 75% mark.

Bird by bird, baby. Bird by bird.

A lesson in trust from Kayla...

We have two sugar gliders in our family. Kazoo--who we purchased at a flea market (not recommended)--and Kayla--who we discovered through a rescue organization called Hope for Gliders.

Because we raised Kazoo from a baby, he instinctually trusts us; however, Kayla--who was brought to Hope for Gliders through an animal seizure by the police--didn't trust humans at all. It took a lot of time working with her to get her to not bite us and any movement she doesn't understand still earns us a set of tiny little teeth sunk into our fingers.

It has been an interesting contrast to me to watch Kazoo--who will glide to me from across the room if I extend my hand and snuggles me rubbing his head into my neck--with Kayla who holds back, never glides, and is incredibly cautious.

There is no reason for her to be afraid of me. After all, I have only done good for her...given her treats, let her explore/play, rubbed her belly...but she misses out on a lot of what Kazoo receives simply because she doesn't fully trust me.

And so I began thinking, how many times is God's relationship with us a lot like my relationship with Kayla? After all, I know a lot of people who don't trust God. (Many times that "lot of people" includes me.) Are we attributing things to Him that aren't even His? Like all of the rotten stuff on the evening news...(His fault for not intervening?)...and for every bad thing that has happened to us personally...and for all of the times we are afraid we aren't worthy of love? (There is so much "sinners in the hands of an angry God" dogma permeating Protestant thinking in the US.) Doesn't God sometimes get attributed with things that haven't even happened? Bad stuff that "could" happen that we unintentionally anticipate?

The Bible uses phrases like...."the Lord is good." "God is love." "In Him there is no darkness at all." Yet sometimes we look at the stuff all around us and doubt that. After all, there is true evil in the world. What if like Kayla, we attribute the evil to the one trying to do good for us. To the one who loves us?

Spiritually, I think it is much better to be Kazoo. After all it looks like so much fun to glide with arms stretched out. Not an easy transition...trusting God to love us and letting go of fear...but definitely one worth pursuit.

A Magical Day

John and I took the day off to celebrate 21 years of marriage today. We drove to Palestine, Texas to take a ride on one of the last remaining steam engines.

A road trip full of conversation and 40's music, colored leaves, a crisp coolness in the air, the rainbow created by the steam from the train, a stop at the most random antique store ever, picking up Chase in Ft. Worth, and an incredibly perfect gift from John...

A most magical day.

A Random Shout Out

Cathy H gives a shout out to Ron's girlfriend (whose name I don't even know).

However I do know this...

1) She wears lots of khaki, black and white--which works for her.
2) She does NOT live in Mississippi.
3) She hears the words "excellent feedback" "unpack" and "I hear ya, bro" a lot.

(Smile.)

Three feet above...

David-the-Artist-Pastor spoke this week about "thin places."

There is a Celtic saying that heaven and earth are only three feet apart, but in the thin places that distance is even smaller. A thin place is where the veil that separates heaven and earth is lifted and one is able to receive a glimpse of the glory of God. Think about the wonder you feel seeing a particularly spectacular sunset, the magic of a baby's laugh or standing beside a mountain stream.

Dr. Bill Gillham--who I worked for in college--always used to say you should picture heaven as being three feet above the ground instead of somewhere beyond the stars when "setting your mind on things above." (I didn't know he was communicating a much older idea.)

I think it was shortsighted that "heaven" in my early religious education was communicated all in white and gold on flannel graphs. It occurs to me that the God who created the intricately beautiful earth must have created heaven with at least as much love and careful design. (Sitting on the metal chair in Sunday school making up pictures in my mind from the designs in the tile, I was pretty sure that heaven would be excrutiatingly boring.)

Now, as an adult, it is infinitely beautiful to think about the are places where heaven and earth touch. The random rose growing through my back fence where everything else is dead. The way the air smells in Tahoe. A funny phone exchange with John that makes me feel like someone on the planet actually "gets" me. A smile from a gate agent in an airport on an otherwise dismal day.

Sometimes things really are "on earth as it is in heaven." I like the idea of seeing those as the "thin places."

The Joy of Fantasy Football

Okay, I have to say that when Nancy-the-Insightful first asked me to play Fantasy Football, my initial response was..."Isn't that a boy game?"

However, I couldn't bear to let everyone be in on something with me left out, so I told her I would play.

And you know what? I am having a great time.

And yes, maybe that is just because I am winning and get to lay down copious amounts of smack talk. (Na, na, na, na, na...Kathryn Phillips!) However, it may also be that I am getting to be "in" on a "boy game."

Fantasy football is a window into John's world. And while we didn't do drafting that involved a six hour day and multiple spreadsheets (Yahoo! gives the option of automatic draft), I am having to pay attention to teams, players and fantasy points. (Though John laughed at me when I told him a swapped dubbya b's instead of wide-somethingorothers.)

For the record, the league is appropriately named "People who know Nancy" and my team is "The Ones in Pink" (so named because I'm frequently asking John, "who are the ones in blue with a star on the hat?"). As of today, I'm still in first. But Kathryn has some guys playing tonight so the week isn't over yet.

Just one question Kathryn, "does my butt look big in these pants?" You would know, because right now you are behind me!!!

That time of year again...

Last week, when the "while you wait" tailor told me it would take almost a week to alter my pants then motioned to the racks of satin and sparkly homecoming dresses off to the side, I realized I should have known.

The past two weeks at our house, there have been the telltale signs of ribbon and glue guns as Bethany has assembled garters and homecoming mums. Last weekend, she went with her high school friends to her own homecoming, then this week, she went with Caleb (and some of her middle school friends) to his.

Last night when the doorbell rang, Bethany was still scrambling to get ready with a "does he HAVE to always be on time?" as she dried her hair and sent me searching for earings.

Neither complained that I wanted to snap their picture as they went to join the others for dinner, more photos, and the homecoming dance. (She and Caleb went to the football game on Friday night--which is where they wore the mums/garters.)

Last night for date night, John and I went to Genghis Grill, where we encountered tons of other high school students all dressed up. (I snapped a few photos for a group I didn't know so they could all be in the photo.)

In a few weeks, Bethany will be transfering to a charter school (similar to a Science and Technology Magnet). I wonder if we will get to retire the glue gun for good.

Having fun with clothes

So, once upon a time I actually enjoyed clothes. I wore scarves, hats, outrageous jewelry...then I stopped. Mostly because I got too busy. Or too lazy. Or maybe I felt like since I was a size 12 instead of a size 8, I wasn't allowed to.

One of the most fun things about my in-home "What Not to Wear" experience is that I'm actually enjoying clothes again. It was fun to get dressed at the gym this morning and have someone say, "Hey, that's cute." (And that was before I put on the hat.)

In an odd way, clothes are like art. They are about color, shape, textures and personal preference. I'm glad someone taught me to open that crayon box again.

Fiona's Untimely Death

Chase's motorcycle, Fiona, met an untimely demise yesterday. It was raining...just a little...you know, the kind that makes hydroplaning possible. The car in front of Chase stopped suddenly, but Fiona didn't.

Fortunately, Chase walked away with just a bit of road rash, but Fiona is toast.

Now he is borrowing his roomie's spare bicycle. Luckily he lives very close to campus and work.

Poor Fiona. Chase is pretty bummed. (And very, very blessed.)

"What not to Wear"...at my house

After watching transformation after transformation on "What Not To Wear" and "How Do I Look" it occurred to me that someone, somewhere in Dallas probably offered this type of consulting--without the humiliation of having all of your flaws pointed out on national television then rerun hundreds of times when they needed to fill a slot.

A Google search conneced me with Kimberly Bohannon of KBCouture. I wasn't sure exactly what I was getting into, but Kimberly made the process less intimidating.

Quite honestly, it felt really, REALLY awkward to hire someone to tell me how to dress, style my hair, apply makeup, etc. Somehow it seems that I should know all of that already. On the flip side, it is also impossible to see yourself the way the world sees you--the outside you...the packaging. And once I got over that, it was really fun.

Kimberly started out the day with "Closet Detox." She went through my closet getting rid of everything that wasn't the right color, body style, etc. teaching me along the way what types of features in shirts, pants, etc worked for me and which worked against me. As we went along, Kimberly made notes about what types of things I was deficient in (like shoes) then, we went shopping.

She pulled a ton of clothes; hundreds of items....at which point I got really overwhelmed, but when we went to the dressing room, she broke everything down and made it easy to try things on. I told Kimberly all of the makeup lines I'd tried and that I wanted to do over-the-counter skin care and makeup. She went with me to Walmart and told me what to get. A quick stop at Starbucks then we were off to Tony and Guy for my hair appt where she connected me with just the right stylist and gave direction on the type of cut I needed. Back to my house and Kimberly began assembling clothes into outfits, photographing them all. I learned a lot in the process simply watching her put things together. (She sent me a link last night where all of the images were uploaded to her website so that I have them for reference later.)

One of the best parts of the process is that I remembered what it was like when clothes used to be fun. Somewhere along the way in having kids, gaining weight, assembling a career, and going through life, hair and makeup became a chore. (For that matter, getting dressed did too.) It was nice this morning to wake up and look inside my closet wondering what to wear. Better yet, to have choices. And most of all to have fun in the process.

Life is Good

A gorgeous evening. DPR on the iPhone. And my favorite team playing
softball. Life is very good.

The Power of Positive Thinking...yeah....whatever....

I have to confess that I've always been a big believer in the "power of positive thinking." Dale Carnegie, Tony Robbins, Maya Angelou, Marilu Henner... There is truly something powerful about people who think positively and conversely, the principle seems to work in reverse for the people who don't.

It occurs to me that for the most part "positive thinking" is about perception. You can focus on the positive elements of something (glass half full) or the negative (glass half empty). And that probably works about 80% of the time.

But what about the other 20%? What about my friends who are suffering from broken hearts? Those struggling with cancer? Devastating financial loss... Sometimes, if we are honest with the human stuff, there simply isn't enough positive to focus on and playing up what little is there feels fake.

Christians have a "power of positive" thinking clause too. It usually results in "just ask Jesus and He'll come and make it all better." Except, that sometimes, He doesn't.

I've grappled with this for a long time. And while I don't have total clarity there seem to be principles at work more powerful than positive thinking.

1) Forgiveness. There is something radically transformative about letting go of grievance. This can be intensely personal (ie. against a single person who has wronged you) or more general. Writer, John Welwood, puts it well..."one of the most insidious things about grievance is that it takes on a life of its own and poisons everything...what started out has a hurt feeling turns into a generalized grudge against the world."

I have to confess, I didn't realize until reading Welwood, that I do this. Feel on the lookout for wrongs directed at me. In some ways, it is "self-affirming." It provides protection. Very different from the passage where Jesus talks about allowing someone to slap your other cheek.

And while there are some people who pervert this by "playing the martyr" to garner sympathy or they simply don't value themselves enough to prevent abuse, there is actual power in believing you are worth something and laying down your rights for the sake of someone else.

2) Hope. It is interesting to me that the word in Spanish for hope "esperanza" is the same as to wait "esperar."

So what are we waiting for?

I know that some depression is medical, but I wonder if other times despair isn't simply a loss of hope. When too many bad things happen. Too many grievances block sight of love. When you can't see meaning in the world around you.

A friend of mine--a person of faith, one whose life has had a great deal of suffering--said the other day, "I don't get the point of me. I mean why am I even here?" Looking at her life, at the intense beauty of her soul and how she shares that with the world around her, I could hardly believe she could feel that way. She's amazing. She makes a difference. At the very least, my life would feel the lack without her.

What if hope is a gift? Something you don't generate on your own through positive thinking but something we share with each other with constant reminders of our beauty and purpose. Maybe what we are waiting for is a day when all of that is no longer hidden. The day when all of us are truly seen for who we really are.

3. Suffering. I have to confess, I don't understand it. I want desperately to live in a world without it. I don't want to experience it and I don't want to feel helpless watching my friends walk through it.

And walk through it we do.

We can sit in the floor and cry, refusing to move forward by anesthetizing (drugs, alcohol, the immobility of depression...you name it), or we can walk and cry. The worst part about suffering is the total lack of clarity. Nothing in the world makes sense.

This is probably the place where the power of positive thinking most completely falls apart. Yet interestingly, all of the people I listed in the first paragraph have gone through it.

Maybe the real work of suffering is what it does to us. Maybe the analogy of metal going through fire is accurate. And though it hurts like hell and is incomprehensibly confusing, maybe suffering produces something better on the other side. I do know this. Suffering is not without meaning. And as random as it feels, something inside me knows that it has to have purpose. And somehow, though I don't fully understand it, suffering enhances our capacity to both give and receive love.

4. Love. Love is a power of it own. I deeply believe it is what we are all made for and that it can change the world. Love causes doctors to leave six-figure salaries to work at small clinics where people need them. Love is what gets a mom up in the morning to sit in the floor and play with toddlers all day. Love causes two young people to live together in low-rent apartments without date money all glowy-eyed and unaware of their surroundings. Love clasps aged and lined hands at eighty and says, "you are beautiful" and means it.

Love is hard to define. The Apostle Paul tells what it looks like: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

But, he doesn't define what it is.

The scriptures say that "God is love." Looking at love as a Who instead of a What is an interesting exercise. One that isn't easily wrapped up in a blog post and would seem to be far more powerful than positive thinking.

I wonder if the principles of forgiveness, hope, suffering and love are the true key to the other 20%. Would love to get others thoughts on this.

Leaps in the Space-Time Continuum

Spoiler alert: there is a bit of whining involved in this post. Okay, maybe a lot. In fact, you should probably just push the back button now.

What is it when your days are full and the Space-Time Continuum gets completely out of whack? What can I say? I'm a geek girl. I confess I love Star Trek. Well, original, NextGen, and a smattering of DS9 anyway, but I digress. Seriously. It feels like tomorrow must be Tuesday because I have no clue where the actual Tuesday through Thursday went.

At all.

And my inbox is full. And phone calls haven't been returned. Not just the ones from sales people, either. Friends. People I actually like. And I had to opt out of a meeting I actually cared about today. And I've either gone to work early or stayed late for so many days I can't remember when I did a normal one. And I realized after a kind reminder from Angie that I hadn't updated the HFG website like since July so I stayed really, really late to fix it and get the next meeting date up but didn't finish all the updates because everything just seemed to run together. And I ran into someone I knew after work looking all dreadful with no makeup and she didn't recognize me. And all I really want to do is go lay on a beach somewhere and listen to the waves.

And if this sounds dangerously like whining, that's because it is. (And because John is playing softball and Bethany is babysitting, I get to tell all this to you.)

So....because gratitude is the best anectdote I know for whining, I have to say that at least I actually like the people I'm warping through this space-time continuum with. And John has created some really amazing evenings that make me not feel so overwhelmed. And there is hope on the horizon because I have a week of vacation in November with two random Fridays off in between for an art day and an anniversary trip.

Hmm....where's that "Earth Sounds" tape? Because I'm relatively sure that's as close as I'm gonna get to the beach tonight.