It was just five weeks ago that I asked a former student who's become a here & now friend for advice on how to put structure around ideas that long to move out of my heart & head, into reality.
Andy Adams is quite an impressive fellow - tall, broad shouldered, with a sunny face & an open manner. A person who's used adversity instead of crumbling. He's a successful entrepreneur who seems focused on doing his best to nurture the potential & dreams of others as much as his own. From what I can tell, he feels his potential & dreams are tied directly to doing just that! He has a terrific wife & kids, the pride of his life. Aka - a great role model.
What Andy shared with me was the title of a book that he said had changed his life - The Greatest Salesman in the World. He also noted that I might not read it the way he had, which had taken him almost a year.
Well, if I ask someone for help, it would be foolish to blow off the very first thing he says simply because it is a book, rather than detailed steps directly related to my challenge.
It was quite a shock to hold the small, slim volume in my hands. THIS book took Andy over ten months to read? Seriously?
Yes, it did. It's taking me over ten months, too. Because readers are asked to read each scroll (chapter) for thirty days before going onto the next. Instead of thinking that reading it straight through would at the very least give me the essence of Og Mandino's classic, I knew instinctively that it has to be read as intended or don't bother, just drop it off at the local thrift shop.
Last night, I finished my first thirty days, reading the scroll marked 1, although I confess to not reading it in the prescribed manner. I read it on awakening, I read it - out loud - before heading to bed, but I did not make the time to read it after lunch. That changes with the scroll marked 2, which I will read as Og prescribes.
My life is different than it was four weeks ago. John's seen it, I've felt it. There have been nights when I've felt so tired, it was a chore dragging myself to The Retreat, my reading room. As I read the words of the scroll, could feel my energies revive, yet I never went to bed feeling jazzed. And last night, the night after my final read of the scroll marked 1, I dreamed of vineyards.
My heartfelt thanks to Andy for suggesting the book. Much to my amazement, I have NO interest in reading ahead. I have this one shot at reading the book the way the author intended, the way it made such an impression on Andy. With this next scroll, I will read it precisely the way Og prescribes.
Today I am born anew and my birthplace is a vineyard where there is fruit for all.
Today I will pluck grapes of wisdom from the tallest and fullest vines in the vineyard, for these were planted by the wisest of my profession who have come before me, generation upon generation.
Today I will savor the taste of grapes from these vines and verily I will swallow the seed of success buried in each and new life will sprout within me.
t
My first wake up this morning was at 4:30 a.m. - hot, thirsty, on the edge of a headache. And aware that I'd had an important sleep. The sort where I can never remember even a slight fragment of dreams, yet know that what came to me in dream-state was unimaginably important, involving a re... not even sure which word best describes. Reset? Retouch? Reconfigure? Each of those words sort of works, but only in the slightest way. Whatever it did, it's happened before & has always left me with a changed, deepened way of experiencing.
My dreams after going back to bed - after being up for about 30 minutes, fending off the headache - are easy to remember, which is not typical for me. They included trying to fend off some social disaster at a high school gym where something needed cleaning up & it was up to me. And included our queen kitty, Chessie, drinking from a puddle of water like she hadn't had a drink in days.
There was a dream about a massive rain store & leaks popping up from ceilings throughout an older house, with me realizing, "We need a new roof - how will we pay for it?" as I flew throughout the house trying to staunch the inside downpour.
But the dooziest of the dreams was the one that involved a room in someone's house & hotel room, not in the same city.
For some reason, I was staying in someone's house, in a guest room. But instead of using the guest room, I moved into the owner's gorgeous bedroom, staying there for at least an entire day. And leaving it a total mess, the sort of mess that is impossible for one person to accomplish in a week, let alone a day.
Somehow, I got from there to a hotel room in a place that I liked a lot, where I was a regular. Trashed that place too - not out of spite, but because it seemed natural. It was, again, amazing.
Apparently, in both cases it was my intent to make everything right but somehow forgot. In the case of the hotel room, it was awful that I'd messed it up so bad, but in the case of the owner's bedroom - well, I wasn't meant to be in there in the first place.
And the owner was Lil Bruckerell Reisling, who came home to a trashed master suite. By this time, I'd realized that I'd left without cleaning up, that instead of leaving the place untouched, I'd left my ghastly fingerprints all over the place.
Long story short, the tales of both disasters became fodder for the Internet when Lil called me out for my dreadful deed. She chewed me out, wrote a detailed letter about trust & loyalty, told the people at the hotel that she would pay to have the room set right AND would get it out of me somehow.
Her somehow was getting me into a therapy group. It was the most surreal part of the entire dream. Because from first to last, I had done my best to play Lil. I tried this explanantion & that dodge, brought up sob stories & deep insights into my soul. And what did the group leader tell me? They were there to be my honesty police. They were going to help me get to the root of everything that i spent so much time trashing, leaving in a mess - mirrors of the two rooms. I could try whatever came to mind, but they could see if it was true or just bullshit.
End of dream.
It makes me feel better about my current final clear & clean of what John now calls "The Retreat." Had realized that while it looked really nice & welcoming, there was still a lot of stuff here that really had to go. So I dove back in - just as the hot weather hit. We don't have ac, so the room is hot & oppressively humid. My efforts ground to a halt. I was beset with doubts about the WHY behind my energies - were they displaced? Was Resistance hoodwinking me into neglecting what's truly needed? Is cleaning house really related to clearing out my personal blocks & obstructions? Am reinforced that my work is worthy of my time, it is not a dodge, not Resistance turning me from work that needs my time more than this. Just find time to do both.
Getting my house cleared of the things that need to go is no small thing. I don't know what wonders will be possible once my house is in the order I've craved & denied myself, but there's no doubt in my mind that it will make a difference in ways beyond my imagination. If only because what I've always wanted to want will finally BE. That it itself is magical, transformative. Life as it is meant to be.
Just the other day, I learned in the Bhagavad Gita that the only thing I have a right to is our labor. Seems a little harsh, not having a RIGHT to the fruits of that labor - I mean, getting something out of doing what I do is why I bother doing it in the first place. Right?
Actually, I learned the wrongness of such thinking almost twenty years ago, back when AETNA acquired Prudential Healthcare. Thousands of loyal Pru employees found ourselves out of jobs that many had done for decade upon decade.
Turned out that the ones who survived & thrived were typically the ones who did the work because they got something out of it other than just praise, a paycheck, benefits; who did it because something in them ached to be used, who did it for love of the activity rather that for the money, perks or future security.
Sadly, I had quite a few friends & colleagues who'd never felt truly engaged in what they did, but had hauled themselves to work every day because Pru offered such great retirement benefits. For years, they did work that didn't nurture or develop their deeper self for the sake of something they'd get when they were finished with working.
Then there were the friends who worked at Prudential Healthcare who also weren't crazy about what they did, but used the work as a "day" job that brought in the income that allowed them to pursue other dreams. The work might not have developed deeper selves, but what it freed them to do DID.
It seems to me that just as our labor is the only thing we have a right to, so too we are bound to honor that labor, whether we are fully engaged in it or not.
Those friends who worked at PHC for retirement benefits - the ones who seemed to personally flourish were those who gave their work everything they had. They might not have liked what they did, but valued the value of their work. And they invariably got excellent work reviews, because their focus was on doing the job to the best of their ability, not just on the paycheck. They tended to be more perceptive of better ways to get the work done, more open to hearing & giving constructive, productive criticism.
If my John, who is an artist, focused on how well people received his work, he'd pander to their tastes instead of painting what calls to HIM. Not that there aren't times he has a commission that doesn't appeal all that much to him, but it's always clear when he's done a piece where HE didn't invest himself in the work. Praise be, that doesn't happen these days, because he specializes in subjects - animals, trains, cozy homes - that speak to his heart. But just because his most astonishing work - the K4 he painted for me, the magnificent Susquehanna Afternoon trainscape - hasn't sold doesn't mean painting it was a waste of time. Far from it - the only thing he had a right to was the work he put into it. Everything else is up to everyone else. He did his bit. Doing it to the the best of his ability was the reward (and pushed his "best" upward, to greater heights).
Every day, I experience the reality that the only thing I have a right to is my own labor. Looking around, I see such a need for our culture to straighten up & fly right when it comes to how we approach getting up there in years. It is something that many people are concerned with, are affected by, but MY approach to sage-ing not age-ing (to quote Reb Zalman) tends to be under appreciated. My approach goes to socialization, having FUN, rather than maintenance & daily task support, which is what so many people see as the greatest need. While dressing & getting to meals & taking care of task-oriented support might be the most apparent, most urgent need, my deepest belief is that having fun, experiencing moments of joy every day, feeling ALIVE, is the most important of our needs, whatever our age.
Every day, I do everything I can to reach my goal of revolutionizing our present day culture's pathetic attitudes around "aging." What a sorry mess it would be if I looked to how others respond to my efforts for what fuels my efforts. That is the work itself.
It might not seem like a lot to others, but every morning one of the very first things I do is to log onto Values.com & pick out a billboard & a values-related mini video to post on Facebook. I've yet to have an FB friend like either, but that hasn't stopped me. The task I gave myself was to post one of each every day for a month, or until either runs out. And in doing the same action, every day, inspiration struck & I came up with a dandy game that people can play by as a form of Solitaire or with others, including family of all ages.
I was lucky to have worked at Prudential Healthcare, to have experienced the sad state of people who felt rudderless without the work they'd barely tolerated because it was literally all they knew how to do, to see the faces & saging bodies of friends & colleagues suddenly facing not getting that validating paycheck, of losing the status of working for a major company that everyone recognized. Because of that particular experience, it was easy to relate to the thought that the only thing I have a right to my own labor.
Unlike a shocking number of my PHC colleagues, where I worked, what I was paid, even what I did, didn't define me. The only thing that I have a right to is my labor, the energies I bring to whatever task is at hand. If someone appreciates what I do - wonderful! But I don't take their approval as validation of my efforts, any more than I would take disapproval as censuring my labor. When I know that my best efforts have gone into something, than the response of others is moot.
That might sound airy fairy, but I've tended to live that sort of existence. Can recall someone lambasting me for not getting a real job with a steady paycheck & benefits. "You owe it to John," was the argument. Actually, I don't owe anything to John, nor does he to me. We owe it to ourselves to develop as fully as we can. That has been slammed as being too hippie-ish, as downright irresponsible, but am proof positive that it is - for us - the right way to live. At 64 & 70, we are in separate yet touching lives that are flat-out fabulous.
John is happily working away on his Pet-trait commissions, with the occasional train thrown in. I am happy as a dicky bird with what I do, attending the weekly Current Events discussion at a local senior residence, basking in being The Cupcake Lady of the Bryn Athyn Bounty Farm Market (with many thanks to Be Well Bakery & Cafe!), attended several living expansively events in the winter & spring & looking forward to attending several later this month & in the fall.
A lot of our friends & pleasant acquaintances worry that we seem to live without a net. Yet, we feel that how well we do ties directly to if we give our all to all we choose to do. Our reward is in our labor, which - it's now clear to me - is our only right. Until now, never thought of how differently I experience things when I put my full faith & energies into my labor rather than giving less, how differently I experience it all when my focus is on how others respond rather than in the level of my work.
How lovely to discover that I've - we've - lived instinctively in compliance with the Bhagavad Gita; how delightful to embrace that the more connected involved invested I am in what I do, the more fully I am. What an ab fab awakening!
