Friday, January 30, 2015

Courage Doesn't Always Roar


Mary Anne Radmacher, a Portland-based writer and artist, who leads workshops on living a full, creative, balanced life said, "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."

It often surprises me when the quote I need finds me. As I work to build my business and a life that supports who I am, I often get discouraged about not being there yet. I was talking to an adviser the other day and told her that I am trying to move into more of a zen-like perspective. She almost choked on her drink knowing how prone I am to judging and being impatient with myself.

What I meant by a zen-like state is similar to what I experience when I am meditating.

My meditating isn't very elaborate but I do find it restorative. I simply sit in a cross-legged position and focus on my breathing. All kinds of thoughts come and go while I go into more of a meditative state. At first, the thoughts come bombarding in left and right. As I let my thoughts flow through without judgement, I begin to let go of what the thoughts are about. My focus becomes more relaxed but focused. (Does that make sense?)

It is in that state of being relaxed but focused that I find the greatest sense of what I call being in a zen-like state.

This is the kind of state I am trying to bring to the way I create and work on my business. I often find myself getting stressed out about whether I am going to be able to get this thing off the ground. That is the opposite of the relaxed but focused state I am seeking.

That is when courage comes in. I have not yet reached the state where I feel I am being successful in my business. I also realize, as my adviser pointed out to me, that worrying about success and judgement really aren't zen-like state of mind. It is more about letting go and letting the thoughts and experiences happen without judgement.

In a biblical sense, it's like what Jesus said, "Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?... Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself."

In other words, don't worry about it. Things will work out.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

A Grateful Heart is a Happy Heart


Dealing with depression as I often do, it can sometimes be a challenge to think about all the things for which I should be grateful. Things that if I were in a better mood I would recognize as being true blessings. A remedy for that is keeping a gratitude journal.

A gratitude journal is simply a journal in which you keep track of five to ten things you are grateful for the day. Some days, when the depression is heavy, that can be a real challenge. However, one thing I have found is that when you do take the time to reflect upon those things for which you are grateful, things start to get a little better.

Dan Baker in his book, What Happy People Know, shares that "the brain cannot be in a state of appreciation and a state of fear at the same time. The two states may alternate, but are mutually exclusive."

Can depression be the same as fear—diminished in a state of gratitude?

Keeping a gratitude journal will eradicate the state of depression. You'll notice that Baker says the two states—of appreciation and fear—may alternate.

However, during the time in which you are reflecting upon your blessings, that heavy shroud of doom and gloom is lifted momentarily. There is a respite and a time for healing.

Henry Miller, known for his semi-autobiographical novels, pointed out, "The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself." Reflecting on our blessings does that it brings to mind another dimension.

That is one of the things I appreciate about creating art. I have gained a new appreciation for things I once thought commonplace and mundane by taking the time to really look at something and seeing it for what it is.

Leonardo da Vinci, who I revere for his aptitude in a variety of fields (a real Renaissance man), encouraged "Develop your senses- especially learn how to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else."

He also said, "There are three classes of people: those who see. Those who see when they are shown. Those who do not see." Taking the time to reflect upon our blessings develops the skill of seeing the bounty before us.

So, stop, take a few minutes, and reflect upon the blessings you have received today. Keep track of them in a journal. Feel free to share in the comments below.

Friday, January 16, 2015

The Pen is Mightier than the Sword | Why Your Work Matters

Pen is Mightier than the Sword, Illustration by Steve Garvin © 2015

The pen is mightier than the sword. The phrase has been said many times so many times that it has passed into the realm of being a cliche.

As a writer, I have always accepted it as a true statement without giving it much more thought. However, when I was looking for an image for another blog that I manager I came across a number of comments on the web where the validity of it was challenged.

A pen is a small object that doesn't hold much bodily threat to anyone by itself. You might get stabbed in the hand or get ink all over yourself, but the chance of any real harm is unlikely—unless you count the dress shirts I have ruined because I left the cap off when I put the pen in my pocket. D'oh.

In a duel I would take a sword any day over a pen any day.

Context


A little context is in order to understand how the phrase came into being.

The phrase was first written by English author Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1839 for his play Richelieu; Or the Conspiracy. The play's title character was Armand Jean du Plessis, Cardinal-Duke of Richelieu and of Fronsac. The Cardinal also featured in Alexander Dumas' The Three Musketeers where the Cardinal was the main antagonist. It isn't too much of a stretch of the imagination to believe that Richelieu, who delivered the words "the pen is mightier than the sword" in Act II Scene II of the play, was very familiar with the efficacy of a master swordsmen.

Richelieu was often known as the king's chief minister. In fact, in The Three Musketeers, Richelieu is portrayed as being more powerful than the king.

Richelieu knew what it was like to be a man of arms. According to the footnotes in the play, "Richelieu was originally intended for the profession of arms. The death of his brother opened to him the bishopric of Lucon, but his military propensities were as strong as his priestly ambitions. During his brilliant campaign in Italy, the cardinal marched at the head of his troops in complete armor."

Given Richelieu's prominence and influence he had an interesting perspective from which to understand that the pen is mightier than the sword. The school yard bullies, whether they be grown or still in elementary school, who believe brawn is mightier than brain would have you believe otherwise.

They would be, and are, wrong.

Richelieu was able to squelch rebellions and opposing factions. The manner in which he did so was through directing others in his influence. Influence through the pen holds more long-lasting influence than any sword fight.

In fact, the fuller text of the play reads, "Beneath the rule of men entirely great the pen is mightier than the sword... Take away the sword; States can be saved without it."

The wars being fought around the world today are fought largely on the basis of ideology—communicated through pen, mouth, satellite and an array of other devices. In a word, armies are sent into war.

How this Applies to Your Work?


Few of us will ever be involved in a sword fight or even a gun fight. Yet, the work we do provides us the opportunity to influence the lives of others. We may not raise an arm against another person, but our work directly influences our audience.

Whether you raise a pen (or in today's equivalent, a keyboard) to write a word or to illustrate an idea, you have the opportunity to change a life. You may not have a large influence today. As in the parable of the starfish, though, even if your work only influences one person it matters.

So get out there and make a difference. Write an article. Paint. Draw. Share yourself with the world. Because it matters.




Thursday, January 8, 2015

Short Days, Long Nights - the Significance of New Beginnings


Ring Out Wild Bells Illustration
I recently had a paradigm shift where I began to see the short days of winter differently.

December 21st, or the winter solstice, in the northern hemisphere is officially the shortest day of the year and the longest night. Like many others, I have thought of this date as the official beginning of winter. Until recently, when I thought of winter, I thought of barren trees, cold and ice. In the Puget Sound area, the nights are considerably shorter than the rest of the year. In fact, that has been one of the toughest parts of living here for me.

That has begun to change as I gain some new insight into the season.

First, though, some context is in order. On the winter solstice, the sun set at 4:21 here in Tacoma. With sunrise at 7:53, that makes for an 8-1/2 hour day.

When we first moved to Tacoma nearly two years ago, I was completely unaware of how much a difference being near the 47th parallel from the equator made in comparison to where we had lived in Asheville, North Carolina—which is at the 35th parallel.

In Asheville the shortest day of the year began at 7:35 and ended 9-3/4 hours later at 5:21. That is a difference of 1-1/4 hours. Working the hours I did then I would still be getting to work shortly after sunrise and leaving after the sun had set. During the work weeks in winter all I saw was about an hour of sun. That hour of sunlight later in the day, made a big difference. If I could end work between 5 or 5:30, I could actually leave work while the sun was still on the horizon. Here in Tacoma, that isn't the case. Ugh!

As I mentioned earlier, I associated the winter solstice with barren trees, ice and cold. I hadn't had much appreciation for those things when my life revolved around numbers and analysis. I really didn't appreciate the short days.

Since I began spending so much more of my time working on artistic endeavors, I have begun to find the beauty in ice and cold. They can make some interesting formations which in turn can make for some interesting photographs.

I didn't expect that. Neither did I expect to find the flip side of the winter solstice as the shortest day of the year. It was a paradigm shift for me when I realized that the days on the other side of the shortest day of the year begin to get longer. Seen another way, the winter solstice is a new beginning for the year. In ancient days, the winter solstice was a time of celebration in recognition of that new beginning.

Even today we celebrate the birth of Christ as a new beginning around the time of the winter solstice. The meaning behind the holiday and the winter celebration are different but the timing is not coincidental, nor do I think that it needs to be.

During this time of celebration, we sing a song that comes from a poem by Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, Ring Out Wild Bells, that now holds more significance for me. Published in 1850, the poem was part of the elegy In Memoriam written for his dear friend and sister's fiancé, Arthur Henry Hallam, who died at the tender age of twenty-two.

In the poem, Tennyson writes:

The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
...
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

The poem goes on ringing out different types of falsehoods and societal maladies:

  1. grief for those we see no more (a reference to Hallam);
  2. ancient forms of party strife;
  3. the want, the care, the sin, the faithless coldness of the times;
  4. false pride in place and blood, the civic slander and the spite;
  5. old shapes of foul disease, the narrowing lust of gold;

In the spirit of new beginnings, the poem also rings in blessings for society:

  1. Ring in the nobler modes of life, with sweeter manners, purer laws.
  2. Ring in the love of truth and right, ring in the common love of good.
  3. Ring in the thousand years of peace.
  4. Ring in the Christ that is to be.

In this season of new beginnings, we celebrate as we ring out the old, tired, unkind ways because we are, at least in spirit, ringing in love and fellowship.

The winter solstice can be seen for its season of cold, ice and short days and long nights. Given a new perspective, though, the solstice can be seen as a time for new beginnings. It may be a time of dormancy and rest, but as the season progresses short days begin to get longer, ice melts, the sun shines, and the budding of spring begins to become visible.



Friday, January 2, 2015

Encountering the Dragon

Smaug the dragon
We recently watched the final episode of Peter Jackson's The Hobbit. Bilbo Baggins, the titular hobbit, is at his finest in this episode. Hearkening back to the first installment of the series, you remember that Bilbo started out the journey not wanting to leave his comfortable home. It wasn't even his request for which he was being recruited by Gandalf and the dwarves. He went, though, more in response of being spurned by the dwarves than by being motivated by the quest itself.

You'll recall the group of dwarves and Gandalf were enjoying a fine meal at Bilbo's expense. The dwarves informed Bilbo that they were seeking someone to share an adventure but were having no luck. Bilbo responded, ""I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!"

Not only was Bilbo not interested in the adventure he couldn't bother with one because he might be late for dinner. You probably laugh at the thought of passing up an adventure because it might make you late for dinner. Yet, how often do we do just that: stay in the comfort of our homes instead of going out on unknown adventures. In book form, it makes a great story with a little bit of humor. In reality, though, we often don't think it's such a funny thing.

Back at the dinner party, tales of great adventure are being shared with gusto by Bilbo's guests. Bilbo's heart sank. The hobbit in him simply wasn't interested. Yet, there was another part of him--the Took blood that ran in his body--that was intrigued. It just needed a little flame to be brought to life.

That spark came in the form of being seen as less than he saw himself as being. Having collapsed while the stories were being regaled, he overheard one of the dwarves saying that he "looked more like a grocer" than a thief. The Took blood within him was brought to life enough for him to decide to go on the adventure.

He went to bed with that but woke the next morning ready to tell the others that he, in fact, wasn't going to go. Only he was alone in his comfortable home and had nobody to tell. When Gandalf appeared shortly thereafter, Bilbo had enough spunk to hurry after the departing party.

How often do you find yourself embarking upon an unexpected adventure? I know a couple years ago when I received my pink slip at work I found myself on an unexpected adventure. Welcome or not, it was enough to cause concern.

Bilbo now on the adventure found himself hiding in the face of danger more often than not. Somewhere along the trip, though, he built up some semblance of courage. Gollum's ring which enabled him to be invisible helped, of course.

Although we might not have Gollum's ring, we may find ourselves being overlooked and invisible. Who are we to take on giants and orcs? Yet, I have found, being overlooked can turn out to be an advantage. After all, if nobody expects us to attack, they'll be surprised when we do.

Attacking from the shadows was a lesson Bilbo learned and put to use when entering the cave he feared—Smaug's lair. Instead of facing Smaug directly with sword in hand, Bilbo entered quietly, invisibly in order to seek the treasure of the Arkenstone.

It was Bilbo who achieved the mission of gaining the treasure, the stone that would reestablish Thorin, the leader of the dwarves in the party, as king under the Mountain. Ultimately, Thorin's greed got the best of him.

Fortunately, for all those who faced the evil horde of enemies in the Battle of the Five Armies, Bilbo retained his unassuming nature even after having gained the Arkenstone.

Throughout the adventure, Bilbo retained his sense of self. His perspective grew as he developed through the journey, but he never saw himself as more than he was. He was sufficient for the task, but not greater than any of his companions.

Your journey will likely cause you to expand beyond your limited perspective. The trick will be to believe in that potential while retaining the humility to look at your companions as equals. Happy adventures, you are up to the task!

Thursday, January 1, 2015

There's Only One of You

Call it serendipity, happenstance, a sign from above, fate or karma, but I find it interesting that I wrote yesterday about feeling more like the starfish on the beach than the young man throwing the fish back in the ocean. A day later I'm gathering quotes for my Quotes website and I come across something the Pulitzer-prize-winning author and journalist Anna Quindlen said at a commencement address at Mount Holyoke College in 1999:

Every story has already been told. Once you’ve read Anna Karenina, Bleak House, The Sound and the Fury, To Kill a Mockingbird and A Wrinkle in Time, you understand that there is really no reason to ever write another novel. Except that each writer brings to the table, if she will let herself, something that no one else in the history of time has ever had.

It may be true that every story every told has already been told. At least when you break it down to its most basic form. Joseph Campbell broke down stories into about ten different archetypes. All of the thousands upon thousands of books ever written tend to follow one of these archetypes.

Yet, readers like some of the members of my family are always looking for a new book. My wife is a big fan of the fantasy fiction author Tamara Pierce who has been turning out a book about every year for the past thirty years. My wife has eager for every book she turns out.

Each of us, with our different tastes, experiences, and world views has a different story to tell. Instead of looking at all the other books, articles and speeches by others on the subject of life purpose and seeing the same thing being said over and over and over again, I can write what I am writing and recognize that nobody has every written in the same way that I have.

The challenge, of course, will be to figure out how to get what I write into the hands of those who are looking for the world view that I hold. That is the real challenge.

The work I have to do is to produce the best work I can.