How I Want to Live, Part 2

Happy President's Day! Or maybe not so happy, if you're like me and at work on this Federal holiday. I also had to work on last month's Federal holiday; while I was resentfully eating my lunch in the cafeteria that day, I happened to catch a CNN broadcast related to Martin Luther King, Jr. and his life & legacy. The broadcast centered on an exhibit of Bob Adelman's photography from the Civil Rights movement, currently on display at the Westwood Gallery.

I decided to visit the gallery that weekend (and fellow New Yorkers, you should, too! Exhibit runs through 2/29) and the photos I saw were amazing, beautiful, sad, inspiring, and a whole bunch of other adjectives as well. I arrived at the gallery a few minutes after it opened, and besides the employee at the front desk, I was the only person there! Such alone-ness just does not happen often in Manhattan. Bonus.

Next to each photograph was a brief explanation of the image, referring either to the event depicted or Adelman's thought process in taking the picture. I paused in front of a photo showing MLK's body lying in state before his funeral, and read this:

"If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long...Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize—that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards—that’s not important. Tell them not to mention where I went to school. I'd like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. I'd like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question. I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity."

The quote is from MLK's "Drum Major Instinct" sermon, which he gave on February 9, 1968. The words were repeated at his funeral, just 2 months later.

My eyes started to tear up a little (good thing I was alone!) when I read those words. So beautiful. And so humbling - would anyone be able to say those same words about me if I died today? How, exactly, have I been trying to feed the hungry or otherwise trying to serve humanity? Am I spending my time chasing after awards, or things that really matter?

I'm trying to keep MLK's wise words in mind. And I'm resolving to just try more.

How I Want to Live, Part I

To be a person of truth, be swayed neither by approval nor disapproval.

Work at not needing approval from anyone and you will be free to be who you really are.

- Rabbi Nachman of Breslov

Finally Friday

Peeps, I'm so happy it's Friday and I gotta tell you - that makes me a little sad.

Am I living for the weekends and just rushing through the rest of the week/rest of my life? I do believe each day is a gift, a fresh lump of clay to work with, and not to be wasted. Yet I end up just getting by and getting through the week days, and I do not spend my time very wisely. I carry the unhealthy perspective of Monday as The End of All Fun, instead of a new beginning. Food for thought on how I can better accomplish l-i-v-i-n-g abundantly instead of just enduring...

Speaking of enduring...

Black Thursday

I made it through the stupid holiday! And it was Just Fine.

Highlights included a stranger giving up his seat for me on the subway, receiving a crazy-delicious cupcake from AD and beautifully-executed biscotti from CJL, and starting the day with my Thursday morning bible-study group. Chivalry, sugar and scripture - what more could I ask for?

Oh yeah, then there's this:

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! (1 John 3)

Exclamation point, indeed.

Two-Faced Tuesday

Ok, just as I was getting all cuddly with Tuesday and patting myself on the back for being able to focus on the little things, the good things, the blessings of just being in the present moment - Tuesday decides to trip me up.

A last-minute end-of-day work request delays my departure a few minutes, which means I need to make a mad dash down to TriBeCa to get to Hebrew class on time. Outside, the snow is still falling. What had looked so pretty from inside my office a few minutes ago is now a hindrance - wet and slippery and slowing up my "mad dash" attempts.

I arrive at class only 5 minutes late - not too, too bad, considering. However, my classmates and teacher are nowhere to be found! I ask the building security guard, and he thinks my class was cancelled. He checks his records, makes a quick phone call - yup, cancelled. Didn't you get the message?

So there I am in TriBeCa. You can't tell, but when I typed "TriBeCa" just then I was using the same tone of voice one might use to exclaim "Timbuktu!" I mean, it just seems that far away from my own neighborhood. It's cross-town, for crying out loud! ("Cross-town" can be a dirty word for New Yorkers. As most subway lines run north-south, going cross-town gets complicated. Sometimes I get the melodramatic feeling that I'd just rather stay home than go cross-town.) So there I am, in Timbuktu, frustrated but...still trying to cling to that positivity I had felt earlier.

Ok, focus on the positive. Deep breaths. The snow - while wet & slippery, yes - has a certain charm. It's falling softly & the city looks pretty. Store owners are starting to scrape and salt the sidewalks outside their shops; people are getting to feeling a little communal and exchanging smiles as they slip past one another on the streets. Ok, this is nice. I decide to go home (cross-town!) change out of my work clothes and heels into something more weather-appropriate and go for a little winter wonderland walk.

One long subway ride and a crowded cross-town! bus trip later, I arrive on the Upper East Side, where I discover...the soft snow has turned to freezing rain! That kind of sleety stuff that stings your skin with unforgiving pings as it falls. Not good winter wonderland walking material.

There goes Plan B. Time for Plan C ("C" is for "Complain!") - I go home and vent a bit to my roommate. She is very sympathetic ("You had to go all the way to TriBeCa for nothing!? That's cross-town!"). I change into dry clothes and decide to watch a movie - SherryBaby, the story of a young mother who gets out of jail and gets her life back together. I figure it will be nice and uplifting. Nope. While wonderfully acted, the story is sad and a bit depressing. That's it - enough of Tuesday - good night!

Granted, nothing particularly bad happened to me. So I wasted an hour+ of time going a little out of my way, so I got cold & wet, so I watched a disheartening movie. No big deal, in the grand scheme of things. Certainly no famine, disease or disaster befell me. I just fully felt the irony of making a quick-turnaround from a mental place of positivity and thanksgiving to one of whiny irritability.

"Counting your blessings" isn't always easy - even when you are completely blessed with sympathetic friends and a dry, warm place to rest. "Counting your blessings" requires discipline, 'cause my mind naturally focuses on what's wrong instead of what's right. Yes, I suffered a little negativity relapse last night - but changing your perspective is an ongoing, long-term process.

So, blessing #1 on Wednesday morning: forgiveness and grace to try again.

Here's to Tuesday

I woke up this morning all snuggly & smiley 'cause it was Saturday and I didn't have to get out of bed immediately. I re-cozied myself under the weight of my plaid flannel blanket, pretty-pretty plush comforter, and the t-shirt quilt my mom made for me with pains-taking laborious love, trying to find my way back to that interrupted dream that had seemed semi-interesting and worth seeing through. And that's when I thought,"Oh, wait...it's Tuesday!" Awwwwwwwww. Shucks.

So off with the covers and out into the cold, harsh reality of Tuesday went I. But so far it's been rather pleasant, really. The 6-train cooperated and got me to work on time. I caught up on some correspondence during a quiet morning. I've been watching snow swirl outside my office window for hours. (When temperatures dropped a few days ago, my heart leapt. Finally - a winter I can get behind. I'm rejoicing through shivers.)

Now the work day is winding down. My co-worker just gave me a cookie, pretty much making my afternoon. Mundane tasks didn't seem *so* annoying today; I took frequent mini-breaks to hit "Refresh" on my Hotmail account, waiting expectantly (though not anxiously) for a certain email. In a little while I'll head across the city to a cozy classroom, to learn a little Hebrew with pleasant people. All good, non-earth-shattering-but-still-positive little things that add up to today being Just Fine. Even if it isn't Saturday.

Bookish

Lately I've been feeling faint twinges of floopiness (technical term), a bit "off" and out-of-sorts and disorderly. I'm beginning to suspect an acute reading deficiency is to blame. I can't even tell you the last book I read in entirety. Oh, that makes me very sad to admit.

For the past several years I've maintained a strict reading diet, whereby I planned my book meals in advance (kinda like, "In March & April, I will read The Count of Monte Cristo, the fifth Harry Potter, Blue Like Jazz, and one (1) Graham Greene book.") I do not allow myself to deviate from the menu, and I must finish everything on my plate. Having a strict book schedule is very helpful for me because, as I've said before, I tend to not finish things. When I don't have a reading plan in place, when left to my own INFP devices, I bop around between 3 or 4 books simultaneously and never make it to the last page of any of them.

Since September, however, I've fallen off the book regimen wagon. I traded my "To Read" list of novels for a stack of required text books, and it hasn't been a 100% happy exchange. As I mentioned above, I feel a bit out-of-sorts & directionless, as though my progress as a person, a cultural-digester, an imagine-r, and as a writer has been stunted by the lack of good books read. (Not that those text books aren't "good." They're just...different. And it's not them, it's me. And they have a great personality. Really.)

I came across this article today, entitled "How to Use Reading to Become a Better Writer." It re-stated a truth I've long ascribed to: good writers must be good readers. And it inspired me to get back on the book regimen wagon and Get Reading Again Already!

Books do a body good, and this body's been book-anemic for a bit too long.

Candlemas

I was just reading a CNN article about Groundhog's Day (the rodent predicts 6 more weeks of winter! Rejoice ye fellow lovers of cold!) and was interested to learn today's zany holiday is actually tied to an ancient Christian feast day - Candlemas.

Not only was I unaware of the origins of Groundhog's Day, I was also unaware of what Candlemas was all about (although the name sounded vaguely familiar). A quick search of ye olde internet revealed that Candlemas (falling on February 2nd, 40 days after Christmas) celebrates the presentation of Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem. (Described here in the Gospel of Luke)

Thinking about this story (a beautiful one of promises, patience and prophecy) I was reminded of Fra Angelico's depiction of the event, posted below. When I first saw this painting several years ago in Florence, I was struck by how much Jesus looked like a Torah scroll, with his head and feet sticking out like the finials. I like that imagery: Jesus as the very embodiment, fulfillment of the Law.

Just thought I'd share a little art and wish you all (all 2 of you) a very merry Candlemas!