Check out the new cover! I decided, after 22 weeks, to redesign the book, inside and out, and now it’s a special gift or coffee table book. And on Day 22 in the book, I focused on Faith. Khalil Gibran said “Faith is a knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof.” If only we had the faith that everything would turn out all right. Isn’t it what a woman wants her lover to tell her, a child wants to hear from her mother, a parishioner wants to hear from her priest? During Lent, I try harder than usual to find peace, love, meaning, oneness, in an attempt to conquer worry. On my desk in the office, I keep a small magnet decorated with green foliage, trees, and flowers as the background on which I pasted the words “You don’t have to spend another moment wondering and worrying.” It seems to me that if we trust the universe and live in the moment, there can be no worrying. Worry is about something in the past or something in the future, both of which are out of control. We just need to open up our hearts to the present moment with complete abandonment, in faith, for worry to be conquered and no longer part of our lives.
Tag Archives | strength
30 Perfect Days Log Post 14 — Finding Privacy
From Day 14 of the Book–Audrey Hepburn once said, “I have to be alone very often. I’d be quite happy if I spent from Saturday night until Monday morning alone in my apartment. That’s how I refuel.” I refuel in my studio, ensconced in my big chair, where a photo of the stained glass at St. Benedictine’s monastery in Erie reminds me of the time I spent in a hermitage, reflecting and writing. The wall opposite my chair is covered by floor-to-ceiling bookcases of books, photo boxes, the Tibetan bowl that sings only for me, and a basketful of Yoga Journals. My desk is loaded with photos, trinkets, and affirmations, the mementos of my life. It is here that I journal, write, read, and reflect, where the world is outside and may as well not be there, where nothing can touch me or bring me down. In the room that is my own, I allow my mind to understand and accept that there are no answers. Privacy is what’s going on in my head, and being alone is meditative. Should we carry that private self, the one who’s open to possibility and honesty, into the real world or should we keep it in its separate place?
30 Perfect Days Log 10 — Nesting at Home
Week 10, Friday, December 12—On Day 10, I nested at home, I got off the tiger for a day. Maybe that’s all we need is a day or a week of vacation, but I still felt the tug to give it all up and begin anew. I was lying in wait for answers by spending time on what I love. I began with writing, for balance, calmness, and preparation. I read Hemingway because his words are true and real and no-nonsense. Paul and I shopped for daffodil and tulip bulbs and bought a carving pumpkin and Halloween candy after our daily walk. The sky was that vibrant blue of fall that only happens when the leaves provide a red and orange contrast. We sat on the deck, watched and listened. I inventoried the house, picked up stray socks and magazines, sorted mail and newspapers, made my home mine again. We celebrated Sweetest Day with a bottle of Finger Lakes Hunt Club wine. As the day came to a close, I remembered that being “home” is not just about being in the space, it’s about taking care of the base camp before going out into the war zone again.
30 Perfect Days Log 9 — Riding the Tiger
W
eek 9, Saturday, December 6—There’s a Chinese proverb that says “He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount.” We may give a lot of lip service to wanting a simple life, but in reality, we’re afraid to dismount and change direction. We have all kinds of reasons for not starting over or leaving everything we know behind, yet we know we created a life of obligations that has become burdensome. How do we confront that fear? In Umberto Eco’s The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana, a man who lost his memory tries to tie together fragmented pieces of his childhood, but it remains disjointed, even as he makes connections. During my Perfect Days project, my own meandering and complex journey seemed disjointed, and I tried to put together the pieces that were my father’s illness, the pace of work, social obligations, marriage, home, and family, and I knew that no one else who put me on that tiger’s back. I was afraid to give up my lifestyle, yet my life was a whirling dervish kind of ride. More in the book . . .