You are Not a Winner

 

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Or...maybe you are. I don't know your personal circumstances. I have been thinking a bit about what is is to have a motivational and success-inspired blog. Is it hitting the highlights? Spreading positivity, optimism, and lots of YOU CAN DO ITs!? Is it reading and dissecting business and personal growth books, which yes, I do love, and discovering ways to apply the tidbits to my own circumstances? Is it getting What I Want, When I Want, with no room for anything less than being all that and a bon bon on the side? 

The truth is, I love this blog. I love self-help, self-improvement, self-motivation...I guess I love self! But one thing I think we tend to forget in this world of positivity, lead-the-way, never yield, but be vulnerable and approachable, by golly, perfectionism, is that the top is is small and life is short.

The truth of the matter is, what you do and how you act, DO matter. It does have an impact on where you will go. But know what else determines that? Who you know and a good deal of luck. The truth is, there are probably more qualified people for the "top" than there are spaces. You could do everything right, and still not make it. You could make rookie mistakes and not make it. You could make rookie mistakes, but have a fantastic personality, a pretty/handsome face, and lots of luck, and get just what you want.

I am not saying this to lead you into despair. Life is too short for despair. "To despair is to turn your back on God," according to Marilla Cuthbert in the 1985 miniseries version of Anne of Green Gables. If you don't know either the miniseries or the books, you must, so here is a little more information: Anne of Green Gables Movie  and Anne of Green Gables books. 

Anyhoo, I am saying this to pull you away from the path of self-bullying, away from toxic positivity, away from win-or-die mindset and towards a deeper truth. We are spiritual beings. While there is nothing wrong with wanting to be boss lady of your company and working like Hell to get it, that's not what it is all about. Unless this is your own personally written mission and you planned the company and/or are on board with the philosophy and outcome. Otherwise, it may very well be...a job. And yes, the thrill of victory, the excitement of seeing YOUR plans put into actions by others is quite satisfying. But there is a good chance, the great and powerful Oz, er I mean, God of our Universe, doesn't give a camel's backside (doesn't that make you think of a fabulous camel trenchcoat?), about what you do to earn your bread. What he wants is to see you growing and changing and learning. And he may fancy that "reject" down on the corner for the way they smile at the strangers who go by, or help the elderly load their groceries into the car, over your ability to wheel and deal. Or maybe, he loves them both equally, like all good parents, do...

So listen, go get yours...but if yours doesn't somehow materialize despite your best efforts, just know...it's okay. 

There is so, so much more to this experience we are going through. 

Love!

5 Secrets You Might Not Know About Me

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I spend so much time discussing books, self-help, and my internal musings, I thought it might be fun to share a few totally irrelevant facts about myself! Enjoy! Note: I do think I may have mentioned these before, but hopefully it was on a different blog.

1. My right ear lobe is torn. When I was seven, I was sliding down one of those metallic farm pools which had been placed upside down against a fence to dry. A boy had climbed up with me and grabbed my earring accidentally as we went down. My parents took me to the doctor, who felt I was too young to stay still during the minor surgery. Eventually when I was older, it just wasn't a family priority anymore. I use superglue when I want to wear earrings. When I was in high school I tried clip earrings, but they would grow slowly tighter throughout the day leaving me with bleeding and infected lobes. Once I borrowed my mom's tiny diamond studs. The superglue wore off and the stud was lost. She never asked about it, so I never said anything. 

2. In preschool and elementary I was in trouble nearly every day for talking. I was very extraverted. I was always the last to finish a meal because I was so busy talking. I lived with my nose against a brick wall for the first part of any given recess. Unfortunately I was also very honest and blunt and learned it was better not to say anything. Much less trouble that way. I always wonder if I might have fared better with my bluntness had I been male. The expectations of supportive warmth are not the same for males.

3. I have had a completely sober out-of-body experience. It is so hard to put in words, and I totally understand all the more scientific reasons for such an experience-but...I'm telling you I was flying around the room with my body on the bed.

4. My first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. It was planned and I was just 7.5 weeks along. I was so very sad. I was too shy to go to the hospital and the sac/embryo slipped out. As I attempted to wash it off in the sink to get a closer look, I dropped it down the drain. It was traumatic. This is one reason why strong punitive laws against women who have abortions scare the Hell out of me. How could I have proven that was a miscarriage? I have always called the baby Mallory. 

5. I believe my mom woke me up the night she her heart stopped and fatal damage was caused in the hospital. Many of my readers have already heard the story, but it was quite an experience. I won't rehash it here, but here the link: Why Downton Abbey?

When Breath Becomes Air Book Review

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Biography and Autobiography is not a genre which I find attractive typically. When I picked up the book When Breath Becomes Air,  by Paul Kalanithi, after it was recommended in a Facebook book group, I found myself initially disappointed to see that it was an autobiographical book. However, it was fairly short, and I decided to give it a try. Within a few pages, I was hooked. The writing was interesting and the tone was one of a calm friend, explaining his world to me. I wanted to know this person.

 

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What interested me first was his casual dedication to excellence. The importance of a top-notch ivy league education to his family and the lengths his mother went to in order to ensure he was properly educated to be a competitive applicant to the top schools was fascinating. Honestly, it was a whole new mindset for me. All my life has been focused on reminding myself it was not a race-life was about experiences-prestige doesn't equal meaning. Suddenly, this person is earnestly talking about the importance of striving, and it was just--fascinating. My working class worldview couldn't help but be shook up a little. I found myself wondering how the mindset of his family and his friends was so different from mine. Are they just naturally more intelligent and thus striving towards excellence in their field is the only way of life they can fathom? Is it snobbery and keeping up with the Joneses-a life filled with achievements for bragging rights? Is it to build up a strong financial future so they can spend more time later working on wants rather than needs. I don't know. I was completely intrigued. My whole life was built around consoling myself that it is okay not to get what I desire because that isn't where meaning was to found anyway. To have someone so easily speak of achieving major accomplishments as if they were base expectations for life was just incredible.

The book itself is a heartbreaker. You will feel the wide open expanse of time as Paul briefly describes his childhood and feel the time cave in as he discusses his struggle with lung cancer. Paul struggled towards finding meaning and throughout the book, I found myself slightly unsatisfied. I kept waiting for that aha moment of illumination, when understanding of the purpose of life would shine on me, but it never came. His discussion of his childhood religion, and his belief that mercy trumps justice, left me feeling a bit in the dark. Of course, mercy trumps justice. Isn't that Jesus' point? Mercy and grace-giving people more than they deserve- are hopes we all cling to desperately as we feel life slipping away. But...why? Am I a sociopath in that I don't feel tremendously guilty about things? I feel bad when I hurt someone's feelings, particularly if it was intentional, but I don't writhe in my bed at night worrying about coming hell fires or even karmic vengeance. We are all just babies learning. My mother converted to Catholicism the year before she died. I struggle to understand this conversion. What had she done that was so bad she felt the need for someone to tell her God's grace was waiting. God's grace is all around us. God's grace is within us. We don't need Father Joe to tell us this-but maybe some do. Maybe some need that external validation that God loves them and will be merciful in light of their failings. It's a mindset I just don't struggle with. I've spent my share-precious few- less than two hands-of nights on the floor wrestling with the darkness and God's seeming absence. I've known what it is like not to feel another human's tender touch (besides my kids) for years, and finally broke down, staring at the carpet fibers as waves of darkness crashed over me. I've cried out in silent tears to God about the loneliness and despair of a world in which I just couldn't see or feel God's presence at all. But then, the loving arms of sleep would pull me in,  and in the morning I would rise once more.

But perhaps I am lucky. Perhaps my brain chemistry is just so that optimism is bound to peek around the corner even in the midst of the darkest thoughts.

And I started to feel that dark futility after I finished the book. For a brief moment, no matter how interesting and entertaining the book was, I wondered where Paul was. I wondered where the people I have lost are now. Are they there? Do they exist? My mom is deep within my cells-I am made of her. But Caleb? I can't feel him in my cells. I can't feel him around me. Is it because he takes me and goes out somewhere else? Does he feel me within him? If anyone has disappeared and ceased, it is him. And the darkness of death fell over me for just a moment or two. What happens when we die? Not the stories of old books, not the desires our heads have created, but what really, really happens? Is there this whole other existence, elsewhere? Is that the fairy tale we have created to make the days happier? Does the truth even matter? And then I pulled the sunshine out again. I will choose that which makes my soul sing. 

And the book was good.

Late Night Doubts

If you know me well, you know I tend to be messy when tired. My emotions tremble and everything seems magnified. Heck, maybe we are all this way. Despite not overdoing the coffee today, I am here and awake at nearly midnight. Ugh.

And what I am feeling so intensely is embarrassment and shame. There are things I have discovered lately, which just leave me throwing my hands up in--not quite despair--perhaps, just resignation. You know all those times when you feel indignant as if the world is just not fair and everyone is selfish and mean and all this is done to you? I know I am not alone here. Well, that's all true. I mean, some of it. The world is unfair, people are selfish, people can be mean, and it seems as if  the world just wants to drag you down sometimes. But you know what else is true. So are you. You are unfair, you are selfish, and you are mean. And by you, I totally mean me. We are all just this big pile of emotions, tempering them through thoughts and our own biases and so damned sure that we are right. And we are. And we aren't. I am beginning to think the order of the universe is that there is no order. Just a pile of stumbling dumb baby souls toddling around trying to get the blue cup. Some of us have people skills, and we flash our dimples to get the cup we want. Some of us have  emotional control and show our logic to convince the one is charge we should get the cup. Some of us are just effortlessly powerful, and some of us have to fight or steal our way to the cup. But the desire is the same, we all just have a different set of skills in our toolbox. And damn, that's unfair.

I have been into new agey, affirmative, abundance-based faith lately, but I feel it slipping away in doubt.
I don't want it to slip away.
Will I return to more organized religion? Will I put my faith in science for awhile? I don't know. I am not ready to leave this room, but the doubts are creeping in, and hands are pulling me away. Maybe it is time for the shift.

Maybe, it is time to better synthesize all the beliefs-to come up with one whole belief which incorporates aspects of all my faiths. After all, God is the god of all.

For years people have told me I should write more. Put more out. So I built up my blog and suddenly. I have nothing to say. My content is shallow and bland and a growth group I am in asked me, "What is my point? What do I want out of this? How do I make this a successful marketing venture?"

And I just don't know. If my power is the ramble-how can I market that? Who wants to hear from the person who "shifts" from year to year? Who wants to hear from the person who can't get the blue cup?  And I guess then answer is to fake it. Fake getting the cup, fake the whole thing until enough people buy in and suddenly I wrap my hand around that next ring. But would I lose my soul in the process? I don't mean lose, like to the devil. I mean, just lose the essense of what makes me, me?

Do I have to choose between authenticity and success? Just because of the toolbox I was given?

So I feel these failures weighing on me, and I am not sure what to do with them. I have the option of just letting go. Just making the choice to let it all drop and just keep walking away, step by step. I can keep trying, keeping pushing and see what comes of it. I can try something else and distract myself with a new venture. There are some arenas I feel very, very stuck in, and some which I can easily let go. But man, easily is a dishonest word when ego is involved.

*It is morning now, and I remembered this book: Meaningful Work. One was placed in the mailbox of each of the teachers at my school a year or two ago. It is very much my kind of thing, so I read it quickly.



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Remembering this helped me to realize I need to be making my decisions based on my priorities and my principles. Authenticity and honesty are very important to me. Faking it to get followers might work for someone else, but it is going to leave me hollow and lost. Of my endeavors I need to decide if they are aligned with my priorities. Giving up is never easy. There is a part of me that wants to dig her feet in and NEVER SAY Die. But if I am chasing something because of stubbornness, is that the dream I want. I never realized how emotionally invested one can become in something that isn't even an interest of theirs.
I am speaking of the online clothing business my daughter and I have. We will be coming up one year in July, and I am unsure I want to continue pouring money into it. But I didn't realize how hard it would be to stop. Theoretically we just stop. We run a clearance and what is left, donate. Seems easy.

 But man! This pull in my gut is like, "No, gal! You gotta make this work."
But it ISN'T my passion. It isn't my dream. But maybe that is because it isn't successful. If we were pulling in more money, I might feel differently. After all, I do enjoy it. I love looking through items and deciding what to put up. I love it when people order (even when we lose money, hahaha), and I love packaging things and getting them in the mail. I enjoy it and feel privileged.

So I wonder if that is a sign to keep it up, or maybe it is sign that I enjoy retail and should explore that further with perhaps a different focus.

Things to consider.

Have a lovely weekend,

Sophia

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