Month: December 2020

Try this recipe for success:  

Sprinkle your big goals and dreams in with your everyday to-do lists. I think it makes the ideas seem more obtainable and more integrated into your life, when “launch a satellite to Mars” and “open a bowling alley” are alongside of “take down storm windows” and “fill bike tires with air.” It’s just another project you’re going to work on this weekend.  

Even more effective, of course, is to dice the major goal into smaller tasks and add the smaller chunks to your to-do list. 

Add a dash of motivation, a dollop of determination, and blend.  

Season to taste. 

Enjoy!  

Recently, I was shopping online for a poncho. I was looking for something to keep me warm when I sit at my desk, freezing. I couldn’t decide which poncho. 

I’ve learned that if I’m having a hard time choosing, if I spend too much time deliberating and it starts to feel like I’m making way too big of a deal out of the topic, as if the spinning of the earth on its axis depends on which poncho I choose, it’s often because I’m asking the wrong question. 

It’s time to step back and take a long view of the situation. In this case, I’d ask, Should I even wear a poncho? Maybe, instead of throwing another layer over the top, I should think about adding layers underneath. I remembered a set of long underwear packed away in the closet.  

If you’re house hunting in Nashville and you can’t seem to commit to any of the houses you’ve toured, maybe you need to ask, Do I even want to live in Nashville? If two guys are vying for your attention and you can’t decide between them, maybe it’s because you’d be better off single. If you can’t choose a major, maybe pursuing a college degree isn’t in your best interest.

These wide-angle questions can reveal not only the source of the indecision, but sometimes a deeper truth. Then I can move forward with that new understanding. (Incidentally, asking these questions also saves a lot of money. How much of this stuff that we consider buying do we really need?)  

Next time you’re having a hard time making a decision, give this technique a try and see if you learn anything profound.  

I can tell I’m changing (again). My first thoughts, when I notice it happening, are sometimes judgmental. For example, I’ve recently become interested in gemstones. My reaction was, Why? I hardly ever wear jewelry. It seems unnecessary. And I’m not into sparkle- or, at least, I didn’t used to be. I tend to correlate flashy jewelry with conspicuous consumption and superficiality. How judgmental! Can’t it be that people just love beauty, and love adorning themselves with whatever beauty the earth supplies us with? That’s one good byproduct of changing: it makes you able to see multiple points of view. You can appreciate and understand others better because either you’ve been there or you’re standing alongside of them now.  

Lately, I’ve been attracted to the color purple. Even my taste buds are changing. I’ve gotten cravings for chocolate and other foods that, in the past, haven’t been my favorites. (Those are just a few frivolous examples. My outlook is changing, too.)

One big change that occurred several years ago has to do with crafts. From the time I was a kid, I liked making arts and crafts: rug making, quilting, origami, painting, drawing, sculpture, pottery, photography, sewing clothes, flower pounding, mosaics, embroidery, felting, knitting, dyeing fabric, beading, making greeting cards and envelopes, bookbinding, papier mache, collage, holiday crafts- the list goes on.  

At some point, though, in my twenties or thirties, making these items no longer felt fulfilling; it felt like a waste of time. I think I held onto the habit for a lot longer than I should have, assuming my boredom was for the specific craft I was involved in at the moment, or figuring that I was in a funk and my mood was to blame. I guess it was hard to drop what had been a part of my identity for so long.  

I wish I had gracefully- or excitedly- welcomed change. I don’t know why we’re here, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t to keep reliving the same chapter of our lives. We’ve gotta live the whole story.  

Periodically, something superficial starts to bother me, like I get sick of my clothing style, or angry about my crooked tooth, or I start considering what my hair would look like with purple streaks in it. From experience, I know it’s an indication that, ultimately, I’m dissatisfied with something more significant in my life. (When I’m in a good mood, feeling energetic, getting work done, when I feel like I’m doing what I was born to do, I hardly give a thought to my hair, what I’m wearing, or the state of my teeth.)  

What I learned was, the only way to relieve significant distress is to make a significant change- get a different job, move, associate with different people, deal with an issue you’ve been avoiding. Spend your time differently. Lead a different lifestyle. When you’re thirsty, getting a foot rub or hearing an epic song might be nice for a few minutes, but it’s not going to solve your problem. 

I realize that not everyone has the same reasons for performing the same action. But I have to admit that when I see someone with hair that’s a rainbow color, I do wonder, Are they just expressing their artistic side and having fun, or do they hate their life? The ones that especially worry me are the ones whose hair color changes drastically every couple weeks. Part of me wants to sit them down and explain that there is no hair dye in the world that can substitute for quitting your job or breaking up with your boyfriend. You gotta bite the bullet.  

I was changing clothes the other day when I noticed a tag on the inside waistband of my jeans that said “Jones New York” [the brand]. For years, I had thought of them as being Lee jeans. I do own other jeans made by Lee; I guess I just lumped them all together in my head. [No wonder I’ve never been able to find another pair at a thrift store!] Anyway, this simple incident brought up the idea of how we can hold onto ideas for years, even when there is clear evidence of the contrary- even when there are labels emblazoned with the actual brand name and sewn onto the pants in three different places. We see what we choose to see. 

I guess that’s not inherently a bad thing- only if what we choose to believe is detrimental. At first, I thought the message of this story was going to be to step back and see things as they actually are. (Are you really “an awful cook,” or did one pot of rice burn on the bottom?)  

But seeing things as they are right now is limiting, too. Even if no one can guess what any of your drawings represent during Pictionary, that doesn’t mean you should label yourself as being horrible at drawing. Why not leave the door open to the possibility of change and growth?  

What good does it do to think of yourself as ugly or stupid or bad at playing musical instruments? What if you chose to see yourself as attractive, intelligent, and a decent musician? How would that change your behavior? What if we chose to see a world where we’re all attractive and intelligent and decent musicians? I want to host a party where we kick those outdated, mildewed, useless conclusions to the curb. You’re all invited.  

Back in August, I took a walk around my neighborhood after work. A couple blocks from my house, I spotted paper folded and crumpled next to the curb, with the unmistakable color and markings of American money. The number 100 beamed from the corner. I reached down and unfolded the bill. It looked real. It passed my check for a security strip embedded in the fibers.  

I scanned the area for anyone who may have dropped it. The only person I saw was a man sitting in the driver’s seat of a car parked across from me, about 20 feet away. He rolled down his window as I approached his car. I asked if he had seen anyone around that area recently. “No, I haven’t seen anyone the whole time I’ve been sitting here.” He said he worked for the census. Actually, the way he put it was that he should be retired, but he was working for the census. He held a clipboard bearing partially-filled out forms. I showed him what I had found, to explain why I had asked. “Oh, it’s mine,” he joked. We chatted a little. Near the end of our conversation, I said, “It’s your lucky day!” and handed him the bill.  

He seemed to need the money more than I did. Plus, I didn’t feel that it belonged to me. But the main reason I passed the bill along was that it made a much better story. Imagine how disappointing it would be if a stranger walked up to you, waved a $100 bill in your face, asked you a couple questions, then thanked you as they pocketed the money and walked away. It felt rude to mention the money to him and then not let him in on it. I wanted him to experience a thrill just like I did when I found it.  

I feel really lucky. Finding the one-hundred-dollar bill was worth much more than a hundred dollars. Within a few minutes, two examples of mysterious ways of acquiring a hundred dollars were revealed to me. Two crazy-sounding examples! Who goes for a walk and finds a hundred dollars laying around? It happened to me. Who has a stranger walk up to them and hand them a hundred dollars? I was involved in that, too. My takeaway was that there are infinite ways events can occur. If you have a wish or dream, but don’t know how it could logically, practically, “realistically” happen, I say, don’t give up on the idea. Something just as preposterous as the examples I’ve given could happen to you.  

The funniest part of the story is that, earlier that same day, I practically dove in front of someone else’s shopping cart to snatch a dime off the ground. I kept the dime. But then I gave away a hundred dollars like it was a ketchup packet from McDonald’s.