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.
