Permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life
There's a reason why Pippin is my favorite musical. Pippin is seeking an extraordinary life. He sings about it and he searches for it throughout the entire show. He tries everything. War, sex, revolution. Being king. Nothing is right. In despair, he's taken in by a widow with a young son and he lives an ordinary and happy life on her estate for a year, until he leaves again, convinced that there must be something bigger and better out there - some way for him to do extraordinary things. With one last chance (spoiler alert) to go out literally in a blaze of glory, he balks. He ends up on stage alone without sets, makeup, costumes or music. The widow and the little boy come to hold his hands. And he sings, "I wanted magic shows and miracles, mirages to touch; I wanted such a little thing from life, I wanted so much." The last lines of the song are, "It never was there - I think it was here." It's ridiculous how it hits me. It chokes me up every time. It's a cheesy simple story, but I get it. I get Pippin's quest for a meaningful life, and I get his discovery of the meaning in simple things like love, family and just existing.
There's so much beauty and happiness in the ordinary. Today, a fire in the fireplace. Hot chocolate. King cake to celebrate the beginning of carnival season. Puffy clouds. Yellow sycamore leaves. Sunshine. Smiles. Simply being alive.
We're bombarded every day by stories of extraordinary people. People who have raised zillions of dollars for clean water. People who turned ten bucks and an idea into a multimillion dollar business. People who are changing the world in giant ways. It's downright overwhelming.
There are so many choices today. So many options. So much possibility. Even if you have an ordinary life, maybe you become famous because of your cute recipes. Or your Instagram feed. Or your memoir about your dog. Or your Youtube video. If you're not famous, you should still be doing something that's interesting to someone and sharing it somewhere - Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest - oh my goodness, Pinterest! Land of ten thousand ideas for a cupcake!
I ran into a former student at the grocery store the other day. She's amazing, intelligent, and has a great job as a writer for a local publication. And she shared with me how she feels like she needs to be doing more. How she feels this pressure to have made something bigger of her life by the tender age of 24.
Wow. What is happening? When did it become not enough to be a generally good person, make an honest living, take care of one's family, smile at the neighbors, and vote responsibly? Now that we have the capacity to reach nearly everyone on the planet with a tweet or a blog post, and the ability to read about nearly everyone in our assorted blogs and news websites and Facebook feeds, I see a lot of people (clients, myself, friends) running into "compare and despair." Now it's not just the Joneses next door you're trying to keep up with, it's all of humanity!
It becomes more difficult to figure out what you want. There's research to back up how people don't choose when given too many choices. They can't decide where to begin. The brain just shuts down.
Next thing you know, two hours have gone by while you've been scrolling through fascinating articles about amazing people, peppered with funny cat and dog videos. So what do you do?
Give yourself permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life. Focus on your interactions with people in the now moment. At the grocery store. With your family. With your friends. Savor the king cake. Notice the softness of the cat. The dance of the leaves falling from the trees across the street.
Sure, you can still have visions of extraordinary-ness. I have my delusions of Oprah (I'm going to be taping for TV again this Friday! - no, not Oprah!!) I would love to figure out how to do something really big to change the world for the better.
But you know, I like being home. I like talking to one or two people at a time. I like napping. These things make me happy. And they don't destroy the environment. And the Dalai Lama says that if each of us simply strives to be happy, it's one of the best ways to change the whole world.
I'm teaching tonight about money. And here's a hint about what I'm going to say. All those infinite choices? They screw with our money situation too. They cause us to lose focus on what we really want. It's like when you go to a buffet and you end up with a plate full of weird food that doesn't go together. You're surrounded by food and yet you feel yucky and empty.
Get still. Listen. Listen to you. Give yourself permission to lead the life you want. Simple as you want. There's plenty of extraordinary in the ordinary.
What do you think? Leave a comment and let's keep the conversation going!
Savoring Summer
Every year, when I think about summer, I notice this big competition in my brain. On the one hand, I picture all the good stuff from my childhood - a blank expanse of days to do with what I want, run around in the sprinkler, go to the pool, eat popsicles, ride bikes until it's too dark to see, read endlessly without interruption, and go camping! On the other hand, the adult part of my brain stacks up a bunch of projects and tasks that are going to get done "this summer". Like my brand new website. And cool programs I'm working on. And lots of writing. And house renovation stuff. The list can get pretty long. And worrying about or avoiding what's on the "adult" list or slogging through too many projects in one day both can cut into my ability to enjoy the fun stuff. If I've worked all day I'm resentful that there wasn't some lovely pool time, and if I've avoided or worried instead, maybe "sneaking" some fun in like a marathon reading session of a book I can't put down, then I'm also kind of miserable, because I didn't do my work. This summer I've decided to change things up. The first thing I realized I needed to change were my unreasonable expectations about what I can actually accomplish in a summer. Summer is not infinite, even though it seemed that way in early June back when we were seven years old. The other thing I realized is that I was tired of not enjoying the "fun" things because I was only half there, the other half of me worrying about the big projects that were sitting untouched. So I decided to get gentle with myself. I sat down and created a beautiful vision board for summer with lots of relaxing pinks and blues, and words like "gentle", "short and sweet", "easy" and "celebrate".
I decided to prioritize a couple of extra-fun things for myself. I'm studying French! I'm practicing French every day, something completely new to me, and it is such FUN! I'm also making sure there are plenty of excursions, big and small, this summer. About two days after I made this board, I headed out on the Appalachian Trail for a week, and look at what I saw on the first day!
It's like my vision board came to life before my eyes, with the exact same colors. The woods were full of pink rhododendrons and fluffy white mountain laurel. The clouds and sky were lavender and blue. Truly magical.
Oh, and the couple of big projects like my website and programs? Now that I've given myself some space and permission to have some real and unobstructed fun, they're happening too, in a reasonable and happy way. Free (mostly) of angst. I know - it sounds kind of pie in the sky. But it's amazing how some tiny mental shifts can make such a difference.
If you're in a similar boat and want a little more help getting your summer straight and having it be a tasty mix of fun and getting stuff done, you're invited to my one hour class called Pie in the Sky! It's on Tuesday, June 25, 7:30 p.m. Central, on the phone (recorded if you can't make it live), and it's going to be fabulous! Pie recipes will be included! We'll figure out how you can savor your summer instead of slog through it, while still getting some major stuff accomplished. Details and sign up here. Come join if it feels delicious!
Are you missing the three-leafed clovers?
I've had a really sick cat. (But he might be getting better.) And I'm not beyond being a little superstitious, even when it's a bit silly. So today, when we got home from the vet, he went out to rest in the grass and I decided to join him as I often do. Grass time is always important. And while I was sitting there, amidst the clover, I thought I'd search for a four-leafed clover. They're not as uncommon as you might think, and I thought finding one could be a sign. Something to comfort me. To convince me that everything would be ok, and that Buster isn't on his ninth life just quite yet. One like this one I found in about two minutes a month or so ago.
So I ruffled through the leaves, gazed past all the three-leafed clovers, looking for my prize. And then something happened. I got caught up in how pretty the raindrops looked on the leaves. I ruminated about the cycle of life, right there before me, in fresh clover flowers and ones that had already browned and gone to seed. I noticed how many shades of green there are, just in clover leaves.
And I realized I didn't need to find a four-leafed clover today. I already had my prize.
How often in life do we skip over all the beautiful everyday moments - the three-leafed clovers- while we're waiting and searching, anticipating our prize - a big event, a vacation, something major to look forward to? It's fascinating, isn't it?
How would life be different if we did a better job of noticing three-leafed clovers? All the small miracles - all the beauty and magic that surrounds us. How many millions of three-leafed clover moments are there - ready to be savored and appreciated?
What three-leafed clover moments have you noticed lately? I would love to hear about them. Share yours in the comments, if you like.
P. S. As I wrap up this post much later in the evening, I'm happy to report that the sweet cat has indeed revived, yet again. And I am savoring every 3-leafed moment with him.