The Question
The question is not why are we so infrequently the people we really want to be. The question is why do we so infrequently want to be the people we really are.
— Oriah Mountain Dreamer, The Dance, p. 7
Category: Beauty
10 Posts
Beauty
Beauty is the voice endlessly calling and so we see, so we reach. Doubt the philosophies, doubt the prophecies, doubt the Pharisees (especially the ones seen in mirrors), but who can doubt this, Beauty? Beauty requires no justification, no explanation; it simply is and transcends. See beauty and we know it in the marrow, even if we have no words for it: Someone is behind it, in it. Beauty Himself completes.
— Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, p. 109-110
Why Children’s Literature?
That can be annoying for the people who packed the box. They want children to learn to read, for example, and of course they are right. The most important thing you learn at school is how to read. It’s important because we live in a literate society and in our society it’s as important to be able to read as it is to be able to walk and talk — if you can’t do these things, your ability to participate in society is restricted. But literature is bounding along ahead like the white rabbit, and before you know where you are, it’s over the hills and far away. Because children’s literature knows perfectly well that literacy is only a beginning, not an end. It’s the starting point, not the goal.
Literature soars way up into the air like a kite and makes us gasp. It’s held in place by a string wound around a spool, and the spool is maybe in the box. We have to have the spool of string, but the spool isn’t the interesting thing. It’s the kite that’s beautiful and buoyant and alive and that tugs for freedom.
— Siobhan Parkinson, “Flying Kites and Chasing White Rabbits: Children’s Literature in Functional Times,” The Horn Book Magazine, September/October 2011, p. 53
Proud Survivors
Nothing can erase what happened to you; you can’t go back. And, even if you could, there are gifts you have gained that you would likely not want to trade. What we survivors know makes us uniquely equipped to live full, vibrant, courageous lives. Our experiences have given us an exquisite, and sometimes painful, sensitivity. We are stronger, wiser, more compassionate, more appreciative, and more real because of what we have endured. We have acquired the ability to see things more clearly and more beautifully, to live more fully and more meaningfully. We are a proud tribe.
— Alicia Salzer, MD, Back to Life, p. 250-251
A Life of Adventure
We can take any category of creation and learn a great deal of The Creator through the simplest of surveys. Take dogs: Weimaraners, boxers, Jack Russells, Pomeranians, golden retrievers, Airedales, bulldogs, beagles, Irish setters, whippets, Dalmatians, black Labradors, basset hounds, Irish wolfhounds, Lhasa apsos, Rhodesian ridgebacks. We can see humor and diversity. We can see dignity and grandeur. We can see playfulness and loyalty. We can see beauty, intelligence, curiosity, stamina — more.
Just to drive home the point, let us consider another category, the flower. We have: rose, peony, tulip, lilac, lily, daffodil, aster, delphinium, dandelion, orchid, iris, violet . . . Once again we see infinite diversity and tenderness. We see sheer creative glee. Might not the same tenderness and glee carry over to the creation of humans? Might not human beings bring to God a wonderful opportunity for creation? And how much more exciting, how infinitely interesting when you consider that we, too, carry within us the potential for creation. God just might take a lively interest in our unfolding. God might be easily persuaded to aid and abet us in plans for expansion — after all, God is by nature expansive and so are we.
Perhaps when we say “Thy will be done,” we are committing ourselves to a life of adventure. Perhaps God’s will involves expansion and not constriction. Perhaps we will be asked over and over again to commit to becoming larger and more generous. Perhaps God views us as capable of endless growth and renewal, endless diversity and creativity. Perhaps God expects us to fulfill our fullest potential and will actually cooperate with any plans that make of ourselves that which we dream of being.
— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 137-138
Savoring
We know that resilient people rosewash, looking for and focusing on the positive aspects of a situation. Well, here’s another thing they do when something goes well: they juice it for all it’s worth. Resilient people anticipate pleasure, enjoy it in the moment, and reflect on it afterward. They savor.
Two researchers at Loyola University, Fred B. Bryant and Joseph Veroff, have dedicated their careers to studying savoring, noting four key elements: basking, accepting congratulations and admiration; thanksgiving, in which we acknowledge the ways we are blessed and communicate our gratitude; marveling, reveling with wonder and awe, and luxuriating, deriving protracted pleasure from sensory experiences.
So the term “savoring,” when used in the world of positive psychology, isn’t just about slowing down to enjoy something — although that’s part of it. Instead, it’s something you do in the past, present, and future….
Can you create a protracted moment that is about how great something is? Remember, savoring has three parts: a past, a present, and a future. You don’t have to wait for something good to happen. It can be as much of a joy to recollect something good that has already happened or to plan something to look forward to: grab a photo album and reminisce, or plan a brunch with a bunch of friends you don’t get to see enough of.
Why is it so hard to savor? Part of it, I believe, has to do with that cultural bias against positive feelings. But a lot of it has to do with a strongly puritanical vein embedded in our culture, which manifests in a disapproval of pleasure. I strongly believe that we must challenge the idea that it is somehow hedonistic, dangerous, or recklessly irresponsible to value, seek out, enhance, and bask in that which is pleasurable in life.
— Alicia Salzer, Back to Life, p. 179-182
Self-Care
When we are caring for ourselves, we discover that there is actually plenty of time and energy to care for others and the world too. It is not negatively “selfish” to care for yourself brilliantly and exquisitely. In fact, as you fill your own well from the inside and tend to yourself with great love, it will naturally and effortlessly “spill over” for others to appreciate and utilize.
When you see someone who radiantly glows from within, you are seeing a self-caring soul. This kind of self-care is a living example to be inspired by, so that you can live that way also.
— SARK, Glad No Matter What, p. 56
Colorful and Exciting
What if we believe in a benevolent and expansive force? What if we consider the idea that our dreams come from God and that God has the power to accomplish them? What if our “grandiose” schemes are actually God’s will for us? What if God’s will is expansive and colorful and exciting? What if turning our will and our life over to God is an invitation to adventure and not to drudgery? What if God is for us and not against us?
For most of us, it is radical to consider the idea of a God that is actually on our side. We hope, at best, for a God who will turn a blind eye to our strivings and not nip them in the bud. We tend to think that if we call God’s attention to our adventures and agendas, God will disapprove. We think of God as a spoilsport, a wet blanket. We ignore the evidence of the natural world that plainly shows us an exuberant intelligence committed to diversity.
— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 137
Wholehearted Revolution
Despite where this book will be shelved in your local bookstore, I’m not at all sure that this work is about self-help. I think of it as an invitation to join a Wholehearted revolution. A small, quiet, grassroots movement that starts with each of us saying, “My story matters because I matter.” A movement where we can take to the streets with our messy, imperfect, wild, stretch-marked, wonderful, heartbreaking, grace-filled, and joyful lives. A movement fueled by the freedom that comes when we stop pretending that everything is okay when it isn’t. A call that rises up from our bellies when we find the courage to celebrate those intensely joyful moments even though we’ve convinced ourselves that savoring happiness is inviting disaster.
Revolution might sound a little dramatic, but in this world, choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You’re going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people — including yourself. One minute you’ll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute you’ll pray that it never ends. You’ll also wonder how you can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time. At least that’s how I feel most of the time . . . brave, afraid, and very, very alive.
— Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 126
Dance in Our DNA
There’s no question that some people are more musically inclined or coordinated than others, but I’m starting to believe that dance is in our DNA. Not super-hip and cool dancing, or line dancing, or Dancing with the Stars dancing — but a strong pull toward rhythm and movement. You can see this desire to move in children. Until we teach our children that they need to be concerned with how they look and with what other people think, they dance. They even dance naked. Not always gracefully or with the beat, but always with joy and pleasure.
— Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 120