Making it count

Happy New Year! May 2011 provide you with unlimited blessings and opportunities to exercise the power of your intentions.

May you be encouraged (gently) to strip away what is nonessential to your being, and wildly encouraged to live your deepest passions.

May you look back at the year just past, this time next year, and say "wow, look what I did!"

The waking dream

The shamans of Peru talk about how the world is as we dream it -- that the problem is we're dreaming the wrong dream. That we need to wake into a new dream. Was it Emerson who wrote "our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting"?

Buddhist teachings, not to mention the odd western mystic or philosopher (I believe it was Bishop Berkeley who remarked that we are all figments of God's imagination, or something to that effect), say similar things. Essentially, that what we perceive as reality is just that: our perception. That the things we "know" to be true are the product of a consensual and group imagination.

Imagine the possibilities if you could, in fact, dream a new world into being. What would you dream of? In my dream, there are mountains and forest and clear running water, and animals and birds and most importantly (in my dream) people living joyous, BIG lives of creativity and passion and laughter, with no worries about the next meal, or a roof over their children's heads. Other people's dreams of waking dreams might include a world full of pets wanted by every owner, or no abused children, or people with every 't' crossed and 'i' dotted and tons of peace and quiet and classical music on every corner.

Of course, how we create a waking reality out of our dreams is the tricky part, and it's one reason I suggest volunteering. Maybe you can't see your way into a veterinary degree just yet--not with bills to pay and kids to raise, or an early retirement in your sights. But you could volunteer with the ASPCA, or the Humane Society. Maybe you aren't sure a career in hydrology is for you, so you spend a few weekends instead on river cleanups. Or taking that law degree and writing petitions for the local NIMBY group.

So that's your homework this week, while you're getting those New Year's resolutions mapped out and marked down. Take some time to sit (or lie) down and dream a new world into being. Then get up and start the work.

Pay attention to your dreams

Not the waking kind. The "I'm asleep and would like to stay that way" kind. Have you ever had a dream that was so vivid, so interesting, so...whatever, that you didn't want to wake up from it? Couldn't wait to go back to sleep in hopes of repeating the experience?

Those dreams can tell us something about our waking experience. While one type of dream has been identified by dream researchers as processing information that our conscious mind didn't get to during the day, another type -- far more important, I think -- is our subconscious trying to get through and nudge us into action. (I've identified two other types of dreams in addition to the classic ones, all of which have their place.)

When you set your mind on a particular intention--say, trying to pinpoint a part of your life you want to open up your path on--your subconscious mind often swings into action while you're sleeping. I think it's because during our waking hours, our conscious mind is in charge, and it's the part that has identified all the reasons "you can't do that" (in its words). But in the wee hours of the morning, your walls are down (this is why deep meditation also works for this) and the truth can creep through. You may have to dig in to find the Truth (note capital 't'), since you are still filtering it through images your mind / brain finds familiar, but it's there.

Dream journals are often handy references for this: keep a notebook by the bed, and when you wake up, jot down as much of the dream as you can remember (at first, especially, this may be only the big images). Make note of patterns as they develop, or dreams that occur in groups (three tends to be a significant number). What do they have in common? How do you feel in the moment of dreaming? Elated? Frightened? Exhilarated? Strong emotion is an indication that the dream has some importance.

Also pay attention to whether some element of your dream appears in your waking life: it may be something you've avoided consciously noticing (such as the 'volunteers needed' sign at the local food bank). You can also use part of a dream to set your intention for the next night's dream. This usually takes some practice--follow-up dreaming, that is--so don't be surprised if you are less than successful the first few tries. Remember, your subconscious is in control here, and generally is going to bring up images you need to see, even if you hadn't planned them.

When you identify things that potentially are important to your intention, hang on to them. Start exploring them in your waking hours, either as hobby pursuits (easier to learn woodworking on a birdhouse than on the family home) or volunteer work (or you could help build a Habitat for Humanity house). Then see where it leads.

Meeting the center

One of the most powerful tools for living consciously is, of course, meditation. But there's another simple tool you can use to start, and use throughout, your day even when you a) don't have time to meditate, b) can't get your brain to shut up during your meditation, or c) whatever your reason is for not meditating.

The tool (practice) is called "grounding and centering," and it's just as handy for getting your toddler to calm down as it is for getting your inner toddler to calm down. The practice. common to several religious traditions, is used to sharpen focus and open yourself up to divine intervention/guidance.

The two parts can be done together or separately as you need, and only take a few minutes (less time with practice) to bring you back to yourself, regardless of the distraction.

Grounding: the practice of grounding involves feeling yourself connected to the earth (thus enhancing stability). A good way to start is to imagine yourself sitting on the ground leaning against a tree or large boulder. Feel how strong that is, how rooted. In your imagination, now, let yourself merge into the tree or boulder. Now you  are the one who is rooted. Just the imagining of this can relax your body.

Centering: centering can be used to focus when your mental energy is jumping all over the place, or when you're feeling attacked and you need to present a clear case (attacks of nerves count). This practice uses the traditional 7 chakras as a guidepost: you're looking for the solar plexus chakra, which can be imagined as a clear yellow light (it is, of course, located roughly at the solar plexus, or right about the center of your body). Of the many areas governed by this chakra's energy, the one that deals with will/focus/personal boundaries (depending on your situation) are what you're looking for. Mind you, it works just as well even if you think the chakra system is a bunch of hooey. Locate this center, imagine the yellow light. Now imagine the light spreading throughout your body. The brilliance loosens up all those irritating little energy blocks that are keeping you scattered. When your body is full of yellow light, start to pull it back in to your center. When it's back in place, in a nice, bright, yellow ball, take a few deep breaths.

Used in the morning, the dual practice is one way to get the day off to a clear-headed, focused start. During the day, when demands on your time start to pull your focus off your path, you can use one or the other or both to walk yourself back to where you need to be.

What's stopping you from starting?

A lot of people seem to think that the things that hold us back apply only to the actual living of the dream.

Uh-uh.

The same things that will keep you from living it, will keep you from finding it, too.

Yes, I know--you're madly trying new things, making dream or bucket lists, seriously in search of your passion. And that's great. But I invite you to slow down for a minute and ask yourself one question: what if I slowed down and let one of these things be the passion?

Just to see what it feels like. It might feel wrong. It might feel right. But I suspect that some if not all of the time, we KNOW what our passion is; we just stop it there and pretend it isn't happening. I think there are two possible reasons for this--for the not-finding, not-recognizing. The big one is fear.

Yes, fear. Which we think is what would stop us from reaching new heights, from starting the work of living consciously. But I think, too, it stops us from recognzing our true passion when we find it. Now I know this doesn't apply to everyone, but I know it applies to someone besides me--I'm just not that special. So how do you know when fear is keeping you from recognizing The One True Thing You Are Here For? At a guess, you could start with your excuses. If even your excuses have excuses, there's a good chance fear is stepping in to stop you.

I'm not going to ask you to psychoanalyze yourself, to ask you why you're feeling that fear (or what you're really afraid of). But do ask yourself: is it right in front of me, and is fear holding shut the door?

Willing to be "wrong"

When you follow your heart, your passion, someone's going to disagree. That's okay. The only way to appeal to everyone is to appeal to no one. Be willing to find your tribe, that group of people who are willing to drink your kool-aid (which you, of course, have filled with all the goodness and wisdom of life, not the icky stuff of chemical coloring, sugar, and the occasional lethal dose of dogma) and sing your praises.

I don't care if your goal is to be the world's greatest accountant, the lead soprano in a touring Gilbert and Sullivan troupe, or godmother to the world's wild orchids. Do it for yourself, do it for your soul, and do it for the people who like your style.

Don't waste your time trying to sell your art to someone who doesn't appreciate it. It diminishes both of you. Just do your thing and do it in the way only you can do it and THAT is your contribution to the world--and it's beautiful.

The Bucket List

No, not jumping into movie-mode again. Talking about "the list."

There's this pop psychology trope that runs along the lines of "if you knew you were dying tomorrow, who would you call, what would you say, and why aren't you doing it today." Not getting into that, because seriously, I think knowing you're dying tomorrow lets loose a whole lot of restrictions that might make you act in an otherwise bad-idea way. And besides, we'll discuss this "live like you're dying" idea another time. Where I'm going with this is that this idea of acting because eventually you will die shows up frequently, and it sometimes takes the form of "the bucket list" (what do you want to do before you kick the bucket). And that's okay, as long as you don't get hung up on the form of it or start counting.

Because, here’s the thing….you gotta DO the stuff on the list, or what’s the point of the self-realization?


Bucket lists are good for one thing, at least—defining, clarifying, what’s really important. In Jack Canfield’s The Success Principles, one of the steps is to make that list: 100 things I want to do, see, experience, etc. before I die. Does anyone ever actually get to 100? That's what I mean by getting hung up on the form. Regardless, I did this exercise about five years ago and dropped a time-consuming, expensive hobby because of it. Not ONE of the things on my list had anything to do with the hobby that was taking up several weekends a year, time creating things to go with the hobby, money spent going to events that were centered around this hobby, and so forth. And I didn’t care enough about it to have any achievement related to it on my list of 100 things to do before I die…a list that topped out somewhere around 60, and I was including titles of books I wanted to write!

As long as you're thinking about exploding this year into the record books by finally finding (if necessary) and living your passion, go ahead and make that list. Challenge yourself to come up with 100 items, but remember, it's okay if you can't find that many. After all, "find a cure for cancer" only takes up one line, but it would be a hell of a thing to get done.

New Year, new plans part deux

Making Good New Year's Resolutions


Then there are some goal-setting strategies that may help. I got this list of tips off a website called mygoals.com.



1. Create a Plan

David Allen, author of Getting Things Done and Making it All Work, says you have to get the day-to-day things working, or you’ll never see past the piles of stuff to do on your desk and to your loftier goals. (That’s the gist of GTD.) But to put it in reverse (this part is from MIAW): purpose/principles, vision, goals, projects, next actions. If one of these parts is missing, you may lose the whole thread. Your new year’s resolution could be as grand as sorting all that out and finally pursuing your vision, or it may be that you’re well underway living your vision AND goals, and just need to set out this year’s projects.


2. Create Your Plan IMMEDIATELY

New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual. ~Mark Twain

Twain might have been overly cynical, but you probably get the point. Putting off starting a goal at any time is a recipe for never getting anywhere with it.


3. Write Down Your Resolution and Plan

Writing things down seems to help our brains look on the goals as more of a commitment if we write them down. It’s also useful to schedule the steps for your goals into your calendar if that’s appropriate (setting aside time to exercise, for example).


4. Think "Year Round," Not Just New Year's

New Year's resolutions should be nothing more than a starting point. Think of them as an outline for your year.


And finally...


5. Remain Flexible

Expect that your plan can and will change. Life has a funny way of throwing unexpected things at us, and flexibility is required to complete anything but the simplest goal. Sometimes the goal itself will even change. In fact, there’s a good chance that if it does, you’ll most likely recognize that at some step, you misidentified something in your big picture: maybe your vision isn’t to bring the world a better mousetrap, maybe it’s to rid the world of mice.

But also recognize the progress you do make—sometimes we underestimate how long something will take. Going slowly isn’t a failure unless you’re trying to beat everyone else—if your goal is to finish the race, then you can work on your timing next year.

Another tip for visualization success: when you picture where you want to be a year from now -- or ever, as we start talking about vision and purpose in the big picture -- don't just imagine the visual. Imagine the emotion. The visual isn't nearly as important. If your purpose is to, for example, bring healing to the world, don't just focus on how you'll look in nurses' scrubs or a white lab coat. Imagine how it will feel to change a life.

As you may have guessed by now, although my goal with this blog is to help you find and fulfill your passion, we'll spend a fair amount of energy also talking about the day-to-day stuff. Those down-and-dirty details are what will help you realize your vision.

New Year, new plans

"We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched.  Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives... not looking for flaws, but for potential. ~ Ellen Goodman

The new calendar year is a good time to set new plans / goals of your own in motion; you know, take advantage of the momentum created by everyone thinking, talking, and doing the same thing. Of course, when other appropriate times for reevaluation come up (more on this over the next several months), putting things off UNTIL the new year is just making excuses and giving in to fear or complacency.

As promised, today and tomorrow I'm going to drop in here an article (in two parts) I wrote for my company newsletter. It's pretty standard goal-setting information, but hopefully you can glean something helpful from it...and feel free to leave questions in the comments section.


New Year’s Resolutions: Making a list and checking it twice?


It’s like an annual curse we visit on ourselves: we make our new year’s resolutions, then follow it up with the promise that Santa’s also “making a list” to check up on us.

Never mind that Santa is just as mythological a figure as the successful new year’s resolution (that is, the odds seem to be against his/its existence, although there are claims to the contrary).

The numbers: 40 to 45% of American adults make one or more resolutions each year. Top resolutions include weight loss, quitting smoking, saving money, and paying off debt. After six months, fewer than half the people making resolutions are sticking to the plan. And yet, the same studies show that people making resolutions are 10 times more likely to attain their goals than people who don’t explicitly make resolutions.

Okay, maybe a slightly-less-than-half rate of adherence isn’t all that bad. But how can you up YOUR odds of being one of the successful ones?


What would I do over?

First, psychologists say to recognize that what you’re doing is making a change. Duh. You knew that, right? But it seems a lot of us act as if change happens to us, not by us. Change is hard. It requires the repetition of the new behavior many times before the change is set—perhaps six months down the road. We get set in the old behavior. It’s comfortable to us, and even if we know it’s not good for us, even if we really, really want to do something different, it’s tough to create that new pattern of behavior.

Second, some suggest that looking deeper than the behavior you’re changing can help. For example, say you want to quit smoking. One way to look at it is all the good things you’re creating in your life by dropping that habit. Another way is to think of it this way: what do I want to be different? One psychologist uses this with clients about to undergo plastic surgery, because it really targets the motivation. Back to smoking. What do I want to be different? Or, as Miller does with her clients, what do I wish were different from my past? Did you start smoking to be cool, as so many high schoolers do? Stress relief? If those are still valid desires, can you replace the smoking with healthier options? (Yoga is very trendy, and accomplishes both at once! And I can guarantee you, you can’t smoke and do a hot yoga practice at the same time, what with the whole breathing thing.)

Navel-gazing not for you? Think about things you’d like to be doing, and why, and how they do or do not fit in with what you’re doing now.

Take some time over the next few days--just a break from the holiday bustle--to think about where you'd really, really like to be this time next year. Tomorrow, we'll jump into some tips for successful goal setting and achieving.

When other people's priorities matter

I read someplace—don't remember where, sorry, but probably a book by a Buddhist teacher—that even the highest purpose ought to be abandoned if what we once did with love, we now view as a duty.

I think there's another way to look at this: there are thousands, if not millions or billions (perhaps one for every person) of ways to serve others. And our own evolution need not be thrown out the window just because we once made a decision (there's that choice thing again) to serve in one way. The trick, of course, is to determine what is the reason you want to change (and to what degree). An example: let's say you're a doctor. Years of medical schooling, practice, all of it, and for years you loved what you were doing. One morning you wake up and hate your job. Loathe it. Now what?

Well, why? Perhaps the answer is not to leave medicine and run off to Tahiti to be a painter. Perhaps the answer is to become part of a different way of practicing medicine. Perhaps your spiritual growth has taken you in a different direction. Perhaps you feel stifled and un-helpful because of the bureaucracy. Perhaps, perhaps. Here's where you get to explore the options. What would you do if you could do anything?

That's when you have a calling, perhaps, or perhaps the change in question has to do with someone else's well-being. In those cases, I think a long hard look at what is blocking your engagement is very valuable—not just the what, but the why.

Is minimalism the new black?

The new black. Whatever that means. I saw a reference to the saying recently with regards the trend of the minimalist lifestyle. Maybe "the new black" means it matches everything (or everyone), or that it's just the latest greatest trend.


Not so sure about either of those. Let's start with the "trend".

Certainly there are people who will embrace it for a short time, then go on to something else in their search for external meaning. Others, though, I think come to it as "simplicity," after decades of struggling against the consumerist tide, finally comes ashore as a wave of its own. I think that perhaps one offshoot of our general affluence is that at some point, many people come to realize the stuff in their life really does run the show: you have to have a house big enough for your stuff, you have to store it, you have to buy more of it when you can't find that what's-it you just knew you had.

And we downscale the stuff in our lives to make room for the living of them.

Minimalism is downscaling to an extreme. I don't mean that pejoratively, but factually. It's simplifying until you can't simplify any further.

To some people, that's probably going too far, but it's worth exploring as part of intentional living: how much stuff do I need to be happy? This is a question that comes up as part of the frugality and simplicity lifestyle considerations, too—but these three topics are not entirely interchangeable (perhaps 95%, so far as I can tell, but not entirely), so for now, we'll stick with minimalism.

First, it's about getting rid of the clutter. Our stuff. The stuff that makes us oh, so happy to see around us, until we realize it's just stuff. This can happen in a variety of ways. One friend realized how little her stuff meant when she had to put it all in storage for several months. And didn't miss all of it. (Of course she missed some of it.) In my case, living for the past year in a house that was big enough to unpack all my stuff for the first time in years, with nothing in storage except the things that needed storing: Yule decorations, camping gear, that sort of thing, made a huge difference in how I viewed my stuff. For example, I love my books. And other people's books. I've been reading since I was two or three years old. And my shelves were filled with books I'd loved...and hadn't read in six or eight years. Huh. I already know I don't NEED all these books. Maybe I don't even want them.

Minimalists will tell you they own what they need and nothing more. "Need," of course, is loosely defined here (see Miss Minimalist's couch post, for example), since I imagine some do take it to the extreme (we need food, shelter and clothing), while others define their needs to include art (although a minimalist will probably own just one or two pieces they really love) or other items that have some particular meaning to them. I think the important factor joining the minimalist extremes, though, is not being owned by their stuff. Often, the fact that not owning all this stuff makes their lives more flexible (choice of jobs, travel, etc) seems to play a part.

If you're interested in exploring minimalism, check out Becoming Minimalist for a wide variety of posts and articles exploring the different sides of minimalism, as well as the above links to some interesting websites (zenhabits.net is worth checking into for many, many reasons)

Do your priorities match your life?

Do your priorities match? While you're thinking about that, let me follow up on yesterday's topic.


When we consider whether other people's priorities are running our lives, we're not talking about being selfish (necessarily). Others' priorities and others' well-being are not the same thing (and we'll talk about those another day). What I'm talking about is when our obligations to other people do not benefit us and perhaps hinder us. Even when they don't reach the height of George Bailey's problems.

For example: are you stuck with other people's stuff? I am ... oh, boy. I have, for example, some antique furniture. It was my grandmother's (it's not very antique: early 20th century). Fortunately, I love this furniture. But still, I feel like it isn't mine. I can't just sell it or give it away if I don't want it. It's a legacy. Perhaps you're storing something for a friend or family member. Done that, too. Here's where it gets tricky. They gave it to you because THEY didn't want to get rid of it (perhaps it's their legacy stuff). They're just shuffling their burden off to you. Now you can't get rid of their stuff, and they don't have to worry about it. Other instances: you volunteer to watch a friend's kids so she can get some alone-time. Then you do it because she asks. Can you say no? Or do you put aside whatever your plans were because "they're not important" and answer to your friend's convenience? Because you know what? It may be just that—a convenience. You're free, so she doesn't have to find a babysitter at $15 an hour. She doesn't have to schedule her plans for another time (because you did).

Why does this matter? It matters if—and only if, because really, it's not a bad thing to help out friends—you never get around to what's important to you, because what's important to others has become your only priority.

Got it? When you take home extra work that can wait until Monday, or if you freelance, you take on a project not because it meets your goals, but it makes it easier on the client, when you tell someone who is willing to meet you halfway that they don't have to go to the trouble—you'll do all the work (or driving or whatever). That's when you start getting in your own way.

So what are your priorities, and do they match? If your priority is to write the great American novel, and you spend your weekends taking on extra work, volunteering because "they need the help" (guess what? Someone else will do it if it really needs doing.), not because you find real fulfillment in the work, you just put other people's priorities (the school carnival, the unpaid take-home) ahead of yours. If your priority is health, and you put off eating better until tomorrow, your priorities don't match. If your priority is a bigger, deeper life, and you spend as much time as possible watching TV and playing computer solitaire, your priorities don't match. Turns out your real priorities are watching TV, playing solitaire, eating junk food, and avoiding the hard work. Is that who you thought you wanted to be?

The thing to do at the time

So in our own sweet, harmless ways, a lot of us have that streak of George Scrooge (like how I made him one person?) in us: we perhaps drift into something, or we choose something that seems like a good idea at the time. We do this with jobs, learning opportunities, relationships, kids, all sorts of things. And somewhere along the way, we feel like our choices have disappeared. We may not consciously grumble about it. In fact, we may be mildly okay with it.

We forget it doesn't have to be this way. We've talked about this before—finding options that allow you to do what you love—and I'm not going to rehash it here (maybe later). For now, we'll leave it with this: every decision you've made – every one of them – CAN be changed. You do NOT have to do the things (or do things the way) everyone expects. Even the kids, although as a rule, polite society frowns on that sort of thing.

But mostly what I want to talk about today is a particular kind of drift, because I do this frequently, and it really can be painful—not just the emotional torture of wondering WTF you were thinking, but detrimental to your goal of living a life of conscious joy (and sanity). It's the drift we find especially glaring in George Bailey's story: the drift of meeting other people's expectations.

It's not just becoming a doctor because your parents expected it. The worst, most pervasive and perverse is when other people's expectations—in the form of their PRIORITIES—become your to-do list.

Instead of saying 'no,' we say 'yes.' Instead of sitting down to write the great American novel, we write to the market (this is not bad, by the way, if your goal is to be a bestselling author, but it is bad if your goal is to write a particular story and you don't). Instead of eating the way that makes your body feel its best, that puts you at peak performance, you graze to be polite (again, not so bad, perhaps, if you're at an intimate dinner, the host/hostess are great friends, etc, but really, at a party? Who cares if you munch on carrots and cheese cubes instead of those little quiche thingies? And if they do care, why do YOU?)

We do things that will make us look cool (every generation has its cool), instead of things that make us happy. We listen to Bach when we really want to listen to Twisted Sister (or vice versa). And so on. We schedule our lives around the convenience of other people and we don't walk away when we're unhappy because "what would people think?"

If you are anything other than completely thrilled with your life right now, I invite you to take advantage of the season, the day, the whatever to decide on just one thing to say 'no' to. Just one. Give yourself permission to not be the person everyone else wants you to be or thinks you ought to be, at least in your imagination.

It's YOUR life.

A Christmas Carol

No, it's not turning into Lorena's Favorite Christmas Movies Week (although ACC ranks there--especially the George C. Scott verions, which I've been known to watch multiple times in one season, taking breaks only to see Patrick Stewart in the role). Or favorite novels, either, although I do feel obligated to point out this factoid which I saw on the news the other night: A Christmas Carol took all of six weeks to write.

I am officially jealous of Charles Dickens. The more so, because it's freezing here (it's last winter all over again!), and so I can really relate to the whole London in winter general ickiness.

But really, it's not about that. The theme for the week seems to be shaping itself into choices--intentional or accidental--and how they shape our (and others') lives.

Which is what A Christmas Carol is about. Sure, it looks like it's about friendship and love and generosity (hmm, similar themes in It's a Wonderful Life...), but it's really about living life to the best of our ability, doing what we need to do to protect ourselves, and when we have the chance to see what it might be if we hadn't done it that way (George, looking at what would have happened if he hadn't been born)...or what it might be if we keep going the way we are (Scrooge), and CHOOSING to do things differently--or from a different perspective--than we've been in the past.

Later this week or early next, I'll post the article I just finished writing for the company newsletter on New Year's resolutions. There's just one question I want to leave you with, that forms--I think--the base from which we can make these kinds of decisions. It's the question George and Ebenezer both ask through these two movies: what would I do differently?

This question isn't necessarily a look back and saying I should have done everything differently: it may be a simple jumping off point for the next path, or the next year's projects / plans: I had a great year, what would I do differently this year to take it higher and deeper. That's what we want our lives to be about, right--higher and deeper and bigger and braver?

It's a Wonderful Life

Saturday, out running errands, I saw two different cars—in two different parts of town—with two different sizes of the same bumper sticker: Life is Great.


Saturday night, It's a Wonderful Life was on television. (I don't have cable, so there aren't as many classic movies on television as there might otherwise be.) Now, IaWL is not my favorite holiday movie by a long shot. It's also not my favorite Jimmy Stewart movie. In face, I find it rather grim, and this year is only the second time I've watched it from start to finish for that reason.

If you've never seen the movie, here's the movie poster version (or not): George Bailey has found his life to be one long series of disappointments. He is selfless, yet a jerk, as he gives in to what life brings him, changing plans, giving up dreams—I don't really know what drives him: perhaps an overwhelming sense of duty? He constantly harps on wanting to leave his hometown for the big, bad world, yet every time he starts to, something gets in his way: he's heading off for college when his father dies; in order to keep the meanest man in town (who never gets his, by the way) from taking over everything and destroying peoples lives, he gives up college and stays home to run the family business. And so on. He gives his college money to his younger brother, expecting to go himself when Harry finishes and comes home to take over. Harry doesn't. Eventually WWII comes along and George, with a 4F card (deaf in one ear from saving his brother's life) stays home and keeps things going. Friends and brother are off saving the world, building industries, and living their dreams; George stays home and tries to keep it all together. And no, he's not happy about it. Really, this is not a film of touching perseverance because George, frankly, is an ass.

And on Christmas Eve, when the last straw is put on his back—mixing metaphors, here—in the form of an $8,000 deposit that goes missing (Mr. Potter, the guy who wants to run everything and destroy the Baileys in the process, ends up with it, but is he found out? Oh, no....), decides he's worth more dead than alive and in a drunken stupor goes off to kill himself. Enter an angel (Clarence) out to earn his wings. He forces George to save his life instead of ending his own (good old selfless George) and then takes him on a tour of what things would have been like if he (George) had never been born.

And there's the epiphany. George, who's tried so hard to do good, really has. And despite his general surliness, all the people who've benefited from his generosity through the years, come through for him when he needs it, too. I think he realizes there's something to building a community, not just a business. At any rate, he ends the movie much happier than he is through about 9/10s of it.

So what's the point? Without reading too much into the movie, here's a takeaway for you: our lives are a series of choices, and every choice leads us to something else. Everything that went "wrong" by virtue of George not being there involved a decision on his part: saving his brother's life as a child, understanding the pain of his employer had caused a potentially fatal mistake (and preventing it from happening), choosing to run the family business instead of going off to do his thing—every one of these actions had repercussions he did not realize. In other words, he created new realities through a series of choices, not a series of accidents. He could have saved his brother's life, but then chosen to ignore the poison pills later by paying more attention to something else. He could have insisted on going to college when it came up, instead of staying home—there was no point at which something happened accidentally, even when it felt that way.

Yes, I believe in fate—but I believe that the fate-directed intersections in our lives are rarely set in stone. Those that are, we find ourselves directed to again and again (like meeting someone for the first time, and discovering you've lived in the same six cities and maybe overlapped but never met, although you should have.) Mostly, I think the intersections—the places where choices can be made—are meant for conscious creation (free will, if you like) to set the new course. Doesn't mean we always make the "right" decisions, but they are the places where we change our, and others, lives, even if we don't realize it.

If you don't like where you are, if you realize you got here due to a conscious decision, I think that's very optimistic—because it means you have choices about where to go from here.

Moving forward

Seems sort of apropos that the last post (nine months ago!) was about making choices and discovering not only what suits us, but what doesn't.


I spent most of this past year exploring that latter bit. I now know LOTS of things that don't fit my visioned path, because I spent a good chunk of my time doing them. Not intentionally. Or at least, not with my highest and best intentions!

Drifting into life "at the last minute." We do this a lot. Or at least I do this a lot, and I doubt that I'm the only one. Life at the last minute is life in what Stephen Covey calls "urgent" (some important, others not, so I'm not going to assign it a specific quadrant).In other words, we're doing things when they HAVE to get done: bills paid "at the last minute." Gift shopping or holiday prepping "at the last minute." Walking at the door at the last minute that gets us to work within five minutes of being on time, not taking the car to the shop until we can't ignore that noise or us to the hospital because that pesky cough won't go away.

It's life according to deadline, which is something I'm very good at. It comes in handy sometimes, because it does mean you don't freeze at the thought of a deadline, but if you aren't careful, they sneak up on you because you're so busy dealing with the rest of the "last minute" that you don't put in the time you need to on the next thing.

This hurts when you're trying to, say, write a novel while you're doing edits for the last one. Or plan a new campaign for your business while you're struggling to figure the ROI in time for the board of directors meeting on the last campaign.

One of the things we'll explore over the coming weeks is how to move out of "last minute" living and into living in the present (the two are not the same), while creating the next "present" (aka planning for / creating the future).

Having spent a fair amount of time this year doing things that don't move me toward my goals had this effect: in the midst of grumbling to myself about it over the past few days, it narrowed down for me the focus of this blog: over the next several months, we'll be talking about things that center on conscious lifestyle choices (not just mine, but any interesting ones I come across, such as minimalism) and how we make choices that move us in the direction of our passions, of broadening our vision but narrowing our focus. We'll talk about hopes and fears and overcoming the challenges of both. I hope to do some interviews with people who found their passion, the later in life the better, and how they turned dreaming into living. Their conscious sanity.

Welcome back.