The Great Gatsby
I was recently talking with a couple of other ladies, when one of them, several years into her 50s, suddenly proclaimed that "we've peaked." My initial reaction was to want to shoot back with, "Speak for yourself!" After all, I just turned 50 at the end of December, and everything in me cried out in rejection of this proclamation. I don't remember the context of the conversation, but my friend was referring to our status of beauty. I ended up responding, "You haven't known me very long. How do you know this isn't the best I've ever been?"
There was no answer to that question, but the comment lingered with me. A few days later, I woke up thinking of the fictional character Jay Gatsby, from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, set in 1922. I told my husband about it, reflecting on this man's remarkable reinvention of himself. "But Gatsby died," Husband insisted. Yet despite the tragic outcome of his efforts to obtain great wealth, glamour and status to win back Daisy Buchanan, the former flame of his younger, impoverished years, I replied that Gatsby's was nevertheless a brilliant reinvention.
Jay Gatsby never exactly lied about his life and the origins of his wealth. His real name was James Gatz, so he kept pretty close to it. In the melting pot of America it wasn't unusual for family names to have been altered to sound less ethnic, so the jazzing up of his name wasn't particularly deceptive. He claimed to have inherited his money, which originally was true, but the inheritance was contested and taken from him. He also called himself an "Oxford man." While he didn't graduate from Oxford, he did spend several months there while serving in the military. His current wealth was earned by less than legal enterprises, but he was simply vague about the details of his business. Exotic rumors abounded about this mysterious tycoon, adding to his allure. He threw lavish party after party and was the toast of New York society.
Jackie Kennedy came to mind, and how I had heard that she may have exaggerated her French heritage for the sake of her chic image. Don't we all strive to show ourselves to the world in the best possible light? Perhaps if we focused more energy on our goals and put our imaginations to better use, the life we dream might come closer to being the life we have...
Poor Gatsby was a dreamer, living in the past while at the same time attempting to rewrite the story, and projecting his illusions on his married lover. While he may not be the most ideal person to wish to emulate, there's much to be gleaned from his knack for reinventing one's "brand." His character is immensely relatable--an incurable romantic, desperately searching for meaning in his life, striving to recapture the happiness of the past and reconcile it with his present reality. And set in the vivid Jazz Age of the 1920s, it appeals to my nostalgic attraction to all things vintage.
Jay Gatsby never gave up hope. He believed to the end. One of my plans for Lent this year, which begins in three days, is to embark on a radical reinvention. Will I change my name? Maybe. What I'm thinking is that no one else should get to decide that you have "peaked," that you've hit the height of your beauty or anything else, and the rest is all downhill. In fact, the idea of peaking is just plain silly. Imagine if Grandma Moses, having decided she had peaked, had never started painting at all! My belief is that women need to give up betraying themselves and one another. I will be exploring how we betray ourselves and what to do about it in the coming weeks.
Have you ever embarked on a reinvention of your life? What were the results? Please share your experiences in the comments!
St. Joan of Arc
The last time I posted here, I was 49 years old. I turned 50 on December 29, and I'm not sure I'm used to the idea quite yet. I think women are so conditioned to react in a certain way about this milestone that it's difficult to tell how one really feels.
I certainly felt shock. I imagine that's to be expected. And like my mother before me, I didn't want too much fanfare about the whole thing. My parents came to town, and my husband, daughter, and I went out for dinner with them. I received gifts, for both my birthday and Christmas. My sister and best friend called on the telephone to sing "Happy Birthday" to me, and of course I got many well wishes from Facebook friends.
I thought of having a bigger celebration this month of January, as my birthday falls between Christmas and the New Year, when many people are busy and/or exhausted. But to be honest, the idea of it felt stressful. Just thinking about who to invite was overwhelming. I had to ask myself, "Self, what does your heart really desire?" Not just for the birthday itself, but for this new phase of life?
Because that's what it is. Maybe especially for a woman, 50 is about embarking on a new journey. I haven't hit menopause yet, and I'm still raising a child, but some women my age are post-menopausal, empty-nesters. I'm technically still in the "summer" of life, but the next season is right around the corner, and there's no more denying that I have reached middle age. My clever rationale is that one cannot truly know when one's middle age was until death. But being that I'm not likely to live too much past 100, I can no longer avoid the middle age label, even to myself. It's here.
So now what? Does anything actually have to change? Besides continuing to get older, nothing technically must change just because I've hit not only a new decade, but the half-century mark. People will tell you that "age is just a number." That's not really a helpful saying when one turns the big 5-0. Plus, this attitude, that it's no big deal after all, side-steps what can be an excellent opportunity to head in an exciting new direction.
I actually began some positive changes last year, such as giving up dairy for Lent. Though I've had some milk chocolate and a few slices of cheese pizza since then, for the most part I've kicked the dairy habit. In the process I've shed about 14 pounds! I actually weigh less now than I did in my 40s, so ha!! I've given away many pieces of clothing that were too large and bought smaller sizes for replacements, and that's a great feeling.
In October I purchased a bra online that was too snug. I was going to return it but didn't. Last week my husband asked me about it, and on a hunch I tried it on. Only a few months later, and it fits! Since I've continued to lose weight strictly by not consuming dairy, imagine what I could do if I was trying, like, if I kept to a consistent exercise regimen.
What I've determined that I really want for my birthday is to allow myself more good things. I've "made do" with what I had all my adult life. Only recently have I even let myself buy most of my clothing new, rather than from thrift stores. I've lived with most of the paint color choices in my home that were here when we moved in over 11 years ago. We've left home projects that seriously need to be completed undone, and there's no reason for it. Shabbiness really isn't chic, and it doesn't bode well for one's confidence and self-respect. It's time to blow the horn, yell charge!, and ride into battle.
Over the years, of necessity, I got into the habit of being very frugal. Not being wasteful, not shopping for emotional therapy, using what I had on hand creatively--all of these are good things. But I fear that deep down I haven't felt worthy to have what I want. Also, because my husband has been the primary breadwinner since our child was born, I've always cringed at spending money.
I had to force myself to buy a new bed last year, even though the mattress was 14 years old, and my back desperately needed better support. My contributions to my family are worth a pretty penny indeed, and it's okay to spend some of those shiny coins to bring more Beauty to my days. I'm not advocating gross consumerism, but rather having quality over quantity, being good stewards of one's possessions, and cultivating an authentic life.
Turning 50 is setting me free to ask for what I want and to let go of the guilt. If I don't create the life I dream of now, when will I do it? Now is the time to keep working toward my ideal weight, to paint my home and decorate to fulfill my "hacienda dreams" (see previous post), to finish decluttering in all senses of the word, and to allow myself true happiness.
No one has to wait for a particular age to be happy. But for une femme d'un certain age, I implore you that it's necessary. Now is the time to make happiness your top priority. So hop on a wild mare with me, grab your lance, and let's ride!!
This year Advent is a short season, and it's speeding by. My home is decorated for the rest of winter, so I can nestle in and enjoy the cheerful colors and lights. My teenage daughter inherited the decorating knack from my mom, and she is a wonderful help with beautifying the house. I can now dream of the new interior colors and decor I'll start implementing come February, when the crocus flowers usually appear in my yard, the first sign of spring!
I'm feeling very drawn to a Mexican country palette and style. I already have some decorative items for this motif, so with a renewal of wall colors, my hacienda dreams will come to fruition. I began with my kitchen over the summer, painting my cabinets a vivid blue, but it didn't go so well. My back can't handle it, and the paint wouldn't stick because of the humidity and easily chipped. I'm going to hire a friend of my husband who loves to paint to take over the project! I will be the visionary artist...
To update on my housekeeping goals, I definitely like this plan of having specific days for certain chores. And you don't necessarily have to do the chore on its day if it doesn't need to be done. If there isn't visible dust on the shelf or dirt on the floor, skip it! Just check what you're supposed to do on that day, and do what you can or what most needs attention. Remember, housework must have boundaries. When you are finished with the day's assigned tasks, be done! Progress, not perfection.
I started going through my jewelry to pare down and give away, or throw away if necessary. That's another lesson I'm learning--that it's okay for some items to go in the trash. We recycle or give away everything possible at my house, so I feel guilty tossing things that will go into a landfill. But maybe that painful lesson has its place. Be very intentional about what you buy, and you won't have as much to put in the trash in the long run.
I hope you're all having a blessed and Spirit-filled Advent season! What are you dreaming for spring?
Happy Advent 2018! This season of the Church Year is a special time for spiritual preparation leading to Christmas, but I'm approaching it a bit differently this year. You may not think of housekeeping when you think of Advent, but I assure you that there's a connection. Stay with me a spell.
Typically, Lent is the season when I and many others focus on decluttering and deep cleaning, but I have decided that Advent is the perfect occasion for a mini version of this idea. Usually when I decorate for Christmas/winter, I put away some of my regular decorations; but in many cases I work the holiday items around them. This year I've taken down the vast majority of the regular decorations on the walls and surfaces and then dusted and cleaned those areas thoroughly.
Those items which I don't want to keep are being given away to thrift stores, and the rest are going into the boxes that the holiday decorations came out of. They'll stay in the attic until it's time for winter to wrap up. Last year that was Groundhog Day! February (and Lent) can then be spent with a deeper cleaning and painting of the walls, a big project of redecorating that I have planned, and the regular decorations can be put back in place. No doubt some items will go on to the thrift stores, and a few new things will be purchased.
This Advent I'm also establishing some basic housekeeping routines. Yes, I've changed my mind about implementing these! Someone finally provided me with a good reason to do so--Cheryl Mendelson, in her book, Home Comforts. Cheryl has a PhD in philosophy and approaches keeping house from a philosophical perspective, as an art and science well worth pursuing. What clicked for me was her argument that house work should have an end.
By this she does not mean that housework should be done once and for all and never tackled again. Rather, there should be an end to housekeeping for the day or the week, or for a particular task. For example, she advises choosing one or two days as laundry days. The laundry then has an end in sight and isn't something you have to do every single day. Each day of the week has its appointed chores, and that's that. My personal goal is to be done with housework for the day as soon as I've cleaned up after dinner. And over break, I'm going to start assigning the dinner dishes to my teenager!
So look here ladies, you don't need to wait until the New Year to establish better habits and routines. You can gradually build up to it during Advent, and by January you will have established a workable system. Advent is also a good time to clear out your possessions, because they might make great Christmas gifts for someone else to pick up at the thrift shop. You see, then, that your housekeeping efforts can be purposeful and will pay off in the peace you get from a well-ordered and lovely home. Subsequently, you can more easily schedule time to relax by yourself or with friends and family. The manic days of keeping house are over, my friends. This is a spiritual mission, and the Lord is our strength.
Do you have Advent plans that include housekeeping? If so, please share in the comments! I'll be posting regularly on my progress and giving specifics of my daily and weekly routines. I hope you will be inspired to find your own path to holiness through making your home a clean, clutter free, orderly and beautiful domestic church!
I became confident when I stopped comparing myself to others. I wanted to be the best version of myself--not to change, but to just totally own who I am and work on me.
Today I was reading the AUG-SEPT issue of "Mary Janes Farm" magazine and came across the above quote from British plus size model, Iskra Lawrence. I think that I've been putting too much emphasis on what I want to change about myself. Perhaps this is not the best approach to making the life I have be the life I want. Iskra's idea of completely owning who I am, of going deeply into what makes me me and working authentically with that, resonates with my new direction.
Unfortunately, the people in our lives and society in general can often conspire to make us reject who we are and instead to conform to an image of who we think they want us to be. At its core this is sinful, because it distracts us from God's will for our lives and the purpose for which he created us. In effect, this outside pressure creates an idol. Perceived in that light, we have every reason to turn away from the world and from those who don't support us in becoming the best versions of ourselves.
To be fair, God does use other people to help refine us, to put us through the fire so we can come out pure gold. But so many times in our lives, despite their best intentions, loved ones, teachers, friends, and others fail to approach what they perceive to be our defects of character, talent, or bodily appearance with charity and grace, and they do us more harm than good. If the message is truly from the Holy Spirit, even if it's a hard message, we'll feel the love behind it. If charity is lacking, the message should be dropped like a hot potato.
As far as society goes, the media images we are bombarded with make it clear that our modern culture has no interest in promoting our authentic personal expression. We are grossly encouraged to conform to very narrow standards of beauty and personality.
Here's how crazy it got for me last Sunday. I was at a coffee shop, and the barista was breathtakingly beautiful. I didn't even notice what she was wearing, because it was hard to take my eyes off her face. And her makeup was perfect, a glorious use of the color orange. I left the place feeling frumpy and wilted in comparison.
The barista was very young, probably in her early 20s. A petite black woman with short hair. I'm a tall, curvy white woman who will be 50 in December. My hair is long with a lot of silver in the front. Do you notice that there is no similarity between me and the lovely barista? Why on earth would I be comparing myself to a short woman less than half my age, of another race?! This is pure madness. Why can't we admire another person without coveting those qualities of which we believe we are bereft?
I can't change my age, my height (and in fact, I like being tall!), or my race (and really, I don't desire to be another race). I don't want short hair. I think what I truly admired about the barista is that she seemed to have such a unique sense of style and beauty and to be very comfortable in her own skin. She was relaxed and confident. She was a flower in the desert. I live in a community without much cultural diversity, and it takes courage to be willing to stand out. Here, to be a gorgeous black woman rocking orange makeup takes guts.
What if I were totally willing to rock my silver tresses, my middle age curves, and the entirety of who I am without apology, without consulting anyone, without bowing to criticism, without cultural conformity, without anyone's permission but that of my maker? What if, one by one, we all became desert roses, each a unique embodiment of Wisdom the Woman? We might just set the world on fire.
"In the deep silence, wisdom begins to sing her unending, sunlit, inexpressible song: the private song she speaks to the solitary soul." --Thomas Merton
Fall is my favorite season, despite the misery of allergies that comes with it. I am fortunate to live in a part of the country to which others travel to behold the glory of changing leaves. I can simply step out onto one of my porches and soak in the colors and special slant of sun. Wearing my bathrobe and slippers, I start my day breathing the fresh, crisp air, listening to birds, contemplating a tall flower with delicate blue blossoms whose name I do not know.
Perhaps you'd like to spend more time in Nature. That is a goal of many people, and as with other things that we wish we had more time or ability to do, we tend to think in such grand terms that we eliminate the possibility before we even begin.
What I'm considering now is how to do a small version of the big dreams. The nature of one's aspirations will differ for each person, but many seem to have a list in their minds of things about their life that they would like to change. We dream of a lifestyle that only appears to be available in magazines, movies, and television, or the online versions of such media.
What if we started with a small version of our grand designs? Taking spending time in Nature as an example, rather than think that you need to buy a camper and drive across the country to Yellowstone, find a state park nearby and hike the trails or go horseback riding. Put out a bird feeder and bath in your own backyard. Take a country ride with your family and buy pumpkins from a roadside stand.
By making small efforts that aren't overwhelming, you will develop a habit of spending more time outdoors, and maybe you will eventually buy that home in the country or travel to an exotic locale known for its scenic beauty. Or maybe not. Maybe what your soul craves is the simple solace of interacting on a daily basis with the natural world.
Often what I really desire when I'm feeling restless is not a geographic relocation, or a new career, big travel plans, or exciting new friends. What is actually at the root of the restlessness is a need to be more connected with those already in my life, to my own community, to my inner self, and to God. The solution to the discontent is not going to be found in a specific, external source. I used to think that there must be a book out there that would hold the answers, and I've continued to search the library, Amazon, and Ebay for those key tomes of wisdom. All I end up with is more books, more clutter, and no lessening of my malaise.
In our noisy, uber-active world, how might we allow ourselves moments for contemplation and silence? Do we even know what silence is anymore? In the last post, I wrote about making the life you have be the life you want. I believe that this begins with a habit of prayer and contemplation, and a willingness to embrace the small details of everyday life. If we don't do that first, we will be forever seeking the "next thing" that we think will bring us happiness. We'll find ourselves burdened with meeting one goal after another with no end in sight. Once the goal is met, the emptiness returns.
So for now, choose one thing about your life that you would like to change, or one dream that you want to have come true. Write down the grand version, and then meditate on what a small, doable version might look like. Record your ideas. If you want to be a gardener, rather than lament that you would have to move to the country first, start with a small kitchen garden and grow a few tomatoes, onions, and peppers. Or plant the window boxes that you usually leave empty with flowers. If you want to take up running but are out of shape, start with a daily walk around the block. If you dream of moving to Paris, look for movies set in the City of Lights at the library. Check out some kids' books and learn a few French words and phrases. You get the idea!
Once you put the wheels in motion, you will either be spurred toward larger goals in service of your dream, or you will realize that you don't want what you thought you wanted after all. In either case, you will have learned more about yourself and your chosen subject along the way. You'll be edified by the experience, so there's no reason to worry about wasting time.
I once thought that I'd like a career as a calligrapher, to have a business making wedding invitations and such. I took a calligraphy class and found that I did indeed have a talent for it. While I enjoyed the class, to my own surprise I discovered that I didn't love calligraphy, and that this was no longer my dream. Doing things in a small way first gives you the time to explore and see if it's really something you want to pursue in a more serious way.
Along the journey, keep praying for wisdom and guidance, and let go of your own will. Also consider that you may already be living your true purpose, and you only need to go more deeply right where you are.
What do you want from a blog? I want meaningful content, beautiful photos, and maybe the occasional video. I want something that isn't too long to read--an economy of words. Something small that's worth contemplating. I want inspiration on a regular basis, but not so many posts that I can't keep up with it. I don't want gimmicks, formulas, or a focus on advertising. I want it to breathe the Spirit.
So that's exactly what I want to give followers of this blog. To that end, I plan to post two or three times a week, at most, of what I understand Wisdom to be imparting. Today's message is, very simply, to make what you're doing what you want to be doing.
I spoke in the previous post's video about the ceasing of striving. Yet my mind seems to be constantly seduced by the question, "What next?" I think this comes down to habitual patterns of thinking, and it's a question our culture perpetually tries to force us to ask ourselves. Because we should always be wanting something else, or something more. Could it be that the malaise I spoke about in the last couple of posts has its roots in this modernist mindset? Does life feel like one big checklist of productivity? Is even your leisure time composed of what you think you should want, or what someone else tells you ought to be your values?
Minimalism is a spiritual path. It's about carving out a deep and meaningful life and eliminating the clutter. For me, it's about having an inward-oriented inspiration and guidance, rather than a searching outward for answers. What I want Organic Mothering to be about now is helping others to listen to the indwelling Spirit while I let go of striving and learn to listen myself.
Today I've decided to make what I'm doing what I want to be doing. Writing a blog. Designing a fall "still life" for my porch. Prayer. Being present with homeschooling and connecting with my child, rather than striving to get it done so we can move on. Facing boredom with what gifts it might have to give, what lessons it may be waiting to teach. Laundry, dinner, walking the dogs. Embracing the repetition that is the touchstone of life. Letting go of what's next.
