Tues Twenty 030210: Books Redux

I’ve been thinking about books a lot lately. I just finished reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, a memoir of her life and friendship with Robert Mapplethorpe. What is it about books, whether mysteries or memoirs or monographs, that have such power to move me? Just Kids was at times poignant, at times an exercise in frustration, at times an obscure literary lesson and at times a huge 60s and 70s cocktail party. But, at the end, when the final scenes for Patti and Robert were played out before his death, I was moved to tears. It was such an unavoidable description of the realities of goodbye and hello and time spent and time lost and unexpected outcomes and enduring soul kinship. And, since I’m writing this to the backdrop of Little Drummer Boy and Baby Girl giggling and playing together, I’m realizing it was also a story of life lived and how it moves on. Quite a range of thinking from just 279 pages.

I’m not sure I have ever in my life been able to read words on a page without thinking about them. Yes, I sometimes realize at bedtime that I’ve reached the end of my 647th encounter with Corduroy or Harry the Dirty Dog or The Tale of Peter Rabbit without remembering the actual act of speaking the words. But, the first time I read them I thought about them. The first time I read them I engaged in some strange process of extracting personal reactions or obscure life lessons. Many of the books my children read are copies I had as a child myself. I’m sure my first time reading them as a parent produced different thoughts than my times reading them as a youngster. That’s just how it goes.

I’m in the midst of deciding on the next book to read and culling down a list of possibilities gleaned from way too much time spent with NPR email alerts and the New York Times Book Review. I don’t know why I always get indecisive with this process. It’s not like I can’t put a book down and pick up another one at my leisure. Sometimes the decision represents some tantalizing combination of being afraid a book won’t live up to its billing and of being afraid it will so surpass its billing that it will haunt me for months or years. Perhaps I’m overthinking. While I decide and reign myself in, I thought I’d offer up a Tuesday Twenty list of books I’d be delighted to RE-read. I just read an interview in the LA Times with John McPhee, the author and long-time columnist for The New Yorker. The article was about his upcoming book of personal essays (just another addition to the list of reading possibilities *sigh*), and in it, he offered some sage insight about being a reader, despite his ample experience being the writer in the equation. He observed that “the creative person in this process is the reader, by a long shot. The writer supplies three or four words, but the reader makes the picture.” These books have afforded me the opportunity to paint a unique picture on one or more occasions in my reading. And, I’m convinced another reading would give me an entirely new view. The power of a good book.

1. The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
Some folks tire of the intricate detail found in Edith Wharton’s work, but I really enjoy the description of New York society during the turn of the 20th Century. It’s a toss-up between this more popular novel and The House of Mirth. Both have such a wrenching view of women living outside the constraints of the trappings of that society.

2. Emma by Jane Austen
Fills my latent romantic tendencies. Downright funny at times, and there’s a happy ending!

3. Ellen Foster by Kaye Gibbons
The most poignant part in the first reading: Ellen thinks her last name is Foster because people always refer to her as “that Foster child.” Hers is a story of triumph and Kaye Gibbons’ Southern stream of consciousness is remarkable, if you like that sort of thing. I’d read any of her books again. Seriously.

4. Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
Vermeer. Enough said. But, the fictional tale surrounding the moments captured in one of his most astounding works is bittersweet, eloquent and artistic.

5. Lucy Gayheart by Willa Cather
Years later, I’m still thinking about the bittersweet end of this beautiful novel about a woman who wants so much more than what the culture she lives in is willing to give her.

6. A Woman of Independent Means by Elizabeth Forsythe Bailey
Told entirely in letters, this story of a woman’s powerful spirit made me want to go out and buy stationery. The lost art of letters never looked so attractive.

7. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
I can’t tell you how many times I read this as a child. It still stirs me, both from the family story, the independence of “Jo” and my own memories of reading it.

8. 31 Hours by Masha Hamilton
Published just last year, I’m astounded by the restraint in this book, by the new perspective on terrorism, by the mother’s heart described, by the uncommon experiences found in the common subway.

9. Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Laura Ingalls was my best friend in elementary school. It would be good to see her again.

10. The Lively Art of Writing by Lucille Vaughan Payne
This little book was my 9th grade English textbook. Thank you, Mrs. Armstrong. I still use the principles today. And, I still choose when to lovingly ignore them.

11. Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino
I read this book way back in college, and I think explored the evolution of cities in a project centered on it. It is an amazing glimpse of the fragmented sociology of kingdoms told by a fictional Marco Polo. The young European explorer offers Kublai Khan, the aging asian emperor, tales of the cities throughout his empire. As it turns out, the stories all describe the same city — a lesson in points of view.

12. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
No elaboration required.

13. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt
An unforgettable non-fiction account of one reporter’s indoctrination into all things Southern and a beautiful and quirky account of the mystery and crazy culture of Savanah, GA. Best tombstone epitaph: a bench at the grave of Conrad Aiken is inscribed with “cosmos mariner, destination unknown.”

14. Night by Elie Wiesel
You may have seen the account of my first reading of this memoir. I still shrink back from the book, but crave the undeniable reality check on human nature it offers.

15. Creating a Beautiful Life by Alexandra Stoddard
Every time I look at this book, I’m encouraged to pay attention to the little things and value beauty in my life. Beauty, as I behold it, is important and it’s not that hard to achieve.

16. On the Occasion of My Last Afternoon by Kaye Gibbons
A very moving tale of a woman during the Civil War era. In my first reading, I was compelled to record Emma Garnett’s thoughts on seeing the jarring, but numbing realities of that war through photos, and how it would have been more powerful in paintings…

“If Monet or Manet or Toulouse-Lautrec had performed the scenes of battle, I might have been urged toward emotion, for the horror would have quivered on the surface of the page and beckoned my mind to follow attendant sensations deeper and deeper to the core, down into the true, wasted, stupid, futile blasphemy of that conflict.”

17. The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
An example of C.S. Lewis’ creativity and a treatise on the nature of evil told from the perspective of a young devil in training.

18. The Divine Romance by Gene Edwards
A beautiful telling of the story of God–his creation, his work, his redemption–expressed as a love story. The very first page describes two essentials of God’s existence in the pre-dawn of creation. God was alone. And, God was love. A profound paradox of coexistence for both God and man — the lover without the loved.

18. My Mississippi by Willie Morris
Who can escape the words of Willie Morris. His thoughts about his (and my) home state are moving, steeped in memory and the fervor of the unique life here. His essay is accompanied by a collection of photos of the state taken by his son.

20. The Shipping News by Annie Proulx
The first descriptive word that came to mind when I read this book originally was “ethereal.” Its descriptions of characters and of the Newfoundland area were beautiful. The journey of a man coming to grips with his own history and finally learning to love was like a deep breath.

#300: The Story of Us

I’ve been thinking about stories. Every night I read them. Bug and Little Drummer Boy have their distinctive routines for getting in bed–their own special bed buddies, their own words they need to say to Mommy, their own way of wearing a blanket–and they always involve stories. Stories read and stories told. They would probably both read for hours or until their little eyelids gave way, but as the adult in the process, I usually set a few parameters. Bug reads two in the rocking chair by his bed and then gets in the crib for a backrub and a song. LDB reads one or two in the big red chair and then one in his bed before a backrub and a song. Mommy carries the veto power over whether we read short or long stories–and how many of their own stories they can tell–depending on how much time we have. I must admit that the system is a little fluid.

It’s funny reading stories with my children. Baby Girl’s version is a quick rampage through her little bookshelf. Every now and then she brings one to the window seat to discuss in her special Baby Girl language, but quickly tires of the details. Bug has finally moved past the rampage process and prefers to be in total control of the story experience, pointing out which words to read on each page. It makes for a disfunctional tale, but he seems to like it. Little Drummer Boy often ponders each page, asking questions and drawing conclusions about the characters at every turn. I’m always amazed at how they each become a part of every story they “read.” Each story is a story of us or of their day at school or of their favorite toy of the moment.

Me? I find myself focused at the beginning and end of the story, daydreaming through the pages. I coerce them into choosing a book to start. I rush them through closing the book and climbing in bed. In between, I often realize I’ve been thinking of something altogether different as I recite the words I’ve come to memorize.

I’ve been reminded over the past few weeks of the sheer generosity and courage found in telling stories–the stories at the heart of people. And, sadly, how quick I am to daydream through the pages, focused on the easier to mark signposts of start and finish, and assuming everything else in between. It’s so easy to impatiently want to skip to the end rather than endure the personal commitment of absorbing that daily, hard-revealed narrative. I’ve been amazed and grateful for the unselfish generosity of spirit revealed in the single pages of an individual’s story that has been freely laid open. And how much that generosity opens me to experience that story as my own–the story of us, not them.

This post is #300 in this little EyeJunkie storytelling experiment. The experiment represents the day to day pages of eighteen months and counting. It’s a humbling experience to see some of the connections that have been made through simple reading and writing, well-chosen and haphazard words. The stories start living. They breathe with the life of hardships and friendships and love and connections and disappointments and so many other things.

As I’ve been thinking through the direction of future posts, I’ve started to realize that stories need a storyteller so that those tales–of children and parents, hungry and thirsty, free and chained, crooked and straight–become the story of us. Not me. Not them. I want to be sure my attention in this endeavor is refocused on that generous act. I’ll try my best.

Searching My Junkie Soul

I received a great compliment this week. At least EyeJunkie did. Super Facebook Guy struck again and delivered a request by an old friend from my Architecture school days. Not unlike catching up in person, Facebook befriending often involves a series of messages or wall posts aimed at determining “where have you been, what have you done and are you still the same as the last time I saw you?” In this case, that was almost 20 years ago. Naturally, the virtual conversation involved our families, our work, where old mutual acquaintances are and in this case, a quick browse of EyeJunkie.com.

After a look through the blog, my re-aquaintance wrote a lovely email to let me know he enjoyed it. His words spoke to some soul searching I’ve been doing about the direction of my writing…

“It really crackles with life.”

Wow! Now that’s high praise. Over the last few months I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the best ways to spend my writing time and what I really want EyeJunkie to be. As I shared with you recently, with three preschoolers to chase, free time is a coveted commodity around the Junkie parts. Since some of that time is devoted to writing, I want to make it count. I want the energy and time I devote to this creative pursuit to result in something that fulfills me. So, I’ve been determining the directions in which I’d like to focus.

One of the continual questions I explore in my thinking about EyeJunkie is its theme–namely whether it needs one that is more specifically defined. When I read other blogs out there, I find they are often centered around a specific topic, whether it’s parenting, spiritual pursuits, good design, marketing, politics–all themes I enjoy. But, I really don’t want the creative limitations of focusing on just one of those ideas. When I read the stories of successful blogs, I wonder if it’s even possible to honor my readers, to give them something worth a regular invasion of their collective cyber space without developing a consistent theme.

I do lots of brainstorming about countless ideas for both work and writing, and my notes on this blog center around finding my true heart for the character of the body of work. There is one thing I know for sure. I certainly won’t honor my readers and provide a worthy outlet for their attention if this endeavor isn’t authentic. If it isn’t authentic to me and where I am, the writing will be without passion. When I write notes to qualify EyeJunkie, these are the words that repeatedly find their way to the page:

beautiful, honest, creative, fresh

I want EyeJunkie to reflect life. To hear a first impression that the presentation “crackles with life” was a well-needed moment of affirmation and an encouragement to pursue it in all its rich pageant. Above all, I want this blog to reflect life. It most readily falls into the “personal blog” genre, the hallmark of which is that it’s about MY life. But, in reality, my life isn’t all that different from a thousand lives. Yes, my family is one of individuals, my interests are mine, my juggles and struggles have unique details. But, the greater issues are shared by most people and families. My pursuit is to make my moments count, even if only by living each one completely regardless of its mundane or profound characteristics. To that end, I simply cannot sustain a thematic approach–at least not with authentic passion. Life isn’t always thematic. Life is interrupted. Life is multifaceted. Life is overlapping. It isn’t easily compartmentalized. BUT, life has goals. It has values and overarching commitments and priorities that are applicable to and reflected in all its interruptions and facets.

For EyeJunkie, one of those goals is an uncontrived pursuit of paying attention. Highlights from my belief that there isn’t much that’s incidental, not much that’s insignificant. The powerful and profound can be found in almost everything, and joy and contentment are soon to follow from a life lived with intention.

It would be tempting to cater my thoughts and themes to what readers might expect, to let that be the driving force. But realistically, I don’t thing that would lead to much satisfaction for me as a writer. And, I don’t think it would generate much of the quality that’s worthy of your attention either. I hope you’ll stay with me as I explore some of my brainstormed ideas over the next few months, and I hope you’ll find some of your own life in the haphazard “crackling” glimpses of mine.

[A special thank you to M.F. for your generous observations.]

MeMyBook&Eye Preview: Find Your Strongest Life by Marcus Buckingham

When Thomas Nelson offered me the opportunity to review Marcus Buckingham’s Find Your Strongest Life through their Book Review Bloggers program, my first thought was this: There’s something immediately suspect about a man–no matter how well-educated–telling women how to be happy. I’ll go ahead and say it.

However, I only made it a few pages into the book before I was sold on what he had to say–not only his message, but his methodology. This captivating and well-conceived book isn’t your typical self-help offering. Strongly grounded in research and in Mr. Buckingham’s experienced career in evaluating and drawing conclusions from statistics, Strongest Life, offers more than a feel-good message. It offers a recommended practice of achieving the strong life of joy and success we all seek.

Mr. Buckingham begins Find Your Strongest Life by quantifying the paradox I’ve seen so often among women today–the fact that although we have achieved an increased number of career opportunities, pay scale plateaus and glass-ceiling breaks, women still lack happiness. As Buckingham concludes from the available research, “Over the last forty years women have secured for themselves greater opportunity, greater achievement, greater influence and more money. But over the same time period, they have become less happy, more anxious, and more stressed; and, in ever-increasing numbers, they are medicating themselves for it.”

Telling.

Find Your Strongest Life pinpoints some key commonalities at the emotional level among women who’ve created “strong” lives, or lives that are both effective and fulfilled. These “strong” lives build on and expand moments when women are being true to themselves and their innate personality traits and unique gifts. He calls them moments when we have an undeniable sense of self-efficacy–when we are at our most assured and engaged, filled with joy and hope.

After interviews with countless women, Buckingham also recognized a common thought “practice” present in women living “strong” lives. The practice runs right up my alley in that it involves paying attention to our own lives, noticing those “strong moments” when we are at our best selves. By nuturing and expanding those moments, we build our strongest life.

Although Mr. Buckingham doesn’t explicitly address the issue of faith directly, I believe that with a measure of discernment the approach he advocates can help us recognize the gifts and skills God has given each of us as women. By prayerfully examining actions and situations that truly give us joy without the deceptive constraints of guilt, others’ expectations, “should haves” and “ought tos” we can begin to make choices that reflect the unique spirit God has placed within every person.

Finding Your Strongest Life includes a “Strong Life Test” designed to measure women against nine key life roles and determine the “lead” and “supporting” roles each individual was designed to play. Mr. Buckingham offers techniques, inspiration and many real-life examples for how to accept those roles and play to our strengths. His easy-going and down-to-earth prose was credible and a delight to read–so much so that I want to read it again!

I’ve decided to include Find Your Strongest Life as the next MeMyBook&Eye reading selection. While I’d recommend you getting a copy for yourself, you can always read vicariously with me over the next few weeks as I delve a little deeper into how this book affects my adventure in paying attention. I’m planning one or two more posts in the current 10-10-10 series, and then I’ll be ready for some strength training. Stay tuned!

MeMyBook&Eye: Working the Numbers, Ep.2

No, it’s not Monday, but I didn’t want Banned Book Week to snuff out MeMyBook&Eye entirely. So, now showing at a special time, it’s 10-10-10 Episode #2!

Suzy Welch’s “life transforming idea” in the book 10-10-10 offers a process for making decisions based on how the consequences measure up in 10 minutes, 10 months and 10 years. The ways in which those consequences influence our core values forms the basis for intentional choices that help us live a life of our own making. I like it.

It’s obvious from a few key chapters in the book that Ms. Welch is well-versed in evaluating the requirements and responsibilities of the working world, and anecdotes from her own experiences are resounding evidence of her understanding of the particular struggles of working women. Chapters Five and Six offer insights and eye-opening examples of how 10-10-10 can be applied effectively to the work arena–both in business strategy and in personal work decisions.

Thoughts on the Value of Work

“Sociologists have long held that work is a primary source of identity in our lives, giving us direction and purpose and serving as the organizing principle of our days.” (pg. 102)

Right there my mind started protesting. I’m a working mother, but wait a minute. Is work really a “primary source of identity.” Sure, a “work ethic” is a litmus test of character, but what about work itself? As I read through Chapter Five I began to realize that somehow my circle of influencers had convinced me that work should be devalued–that it’s value should be set aside, if indeed it had any value in the first place. I realized that, at my core, I really don’t feel that way. I DO see work as valuable–and not just the work that feeds starving children. When it comes to women in the workplace, there is a segment of our culture that perpetrates the concept that women shouldn’t find fulfillment in work. And, all too often, that segment centers in people of faith.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t believe work should be the “be all and end all” for women, or for any human being for that matter. I don’t wonder why my family can’t appreciate my desire to work. I don’t struggle with what’s most important. My gifts and my home life win hands down. But, I like my work. I enjoy what I do. I find it fulfilling and stimulating. I “identify” many aspects of myself through work, as the sociologists say. And, while it doesn’t necessarily govern my full purpose in life, I do have certain gifts that I want to put to use in the world outside the walls of my precious home base.

Indeed, whatever form an individual’s work takes, be it work in an office, work in a field or work in a home, the act of working is valuable. The act of setting goals and accomplishing tasks is valuable. The act of giving something all you have until it is complete is valuable. The act of resting when it is done is valuable. There is dignity and a commonality with God and creation in the act of work, for even God Himself wills and “work(s) for His good pleasure.”

Sustainable Solutions

I like Suzy Welch’s approach to creating work satisfaction and fulfillment in the traditional job sense. The phrase “sustainable solutions” stood out as important. Sustainable choices and situations are not affected by the passing influx of cash or credit–money or affirmation. In fact, in the three primary considerations Ms. Welch suggests for determining work values, pay day didn’t really factor in at all. She suggested asking the following questions:

1. Does the job allow me to work with “my people?” Or, does it require me to put on a persona? Finding peers and colleagues who share your values and appreciate you for who you are authentically is an important work fulfillment meter.

2. Does my job make me smarter? Stagnant water produces all kinds of stinky organisms that eventually squeeze the life out of a life-giving substance. Fulfillment requires growth. Without it, opportunity dies. Work that challenges us creates a sense of value.

3. Does the work give me meaning? Ms. Welch calls it the “joy factor.” And it’s ok to acknowledge it and search it out.

The Fallacy of Balance

I’m reading a lot about this these days and realizing just how true it is. “Balance” is a myth. I know from experience that working women–working mothers, especially–often spend a lot of time trying to “balance” work and home. The reality, however, is that there can’t be equality among values. Ms. Welch makes the very valid observation that “balance” is about trade-offs. It’s about finding the tipping point at which your life begins to stray from what you want it to be about.

In seeking to line up my roles as employee, manager, wife, mother, friend, homekeeper, [insert yours here], I have to know how my values line up. They can’t all be top priority, and only I can determine how important each one is in creating the overall life of value I want to lead. Something has to take precedence.

Precedence doesn’t mean that at times we won’t shift priorities to accomplish the need of the moment, but we have to keep the “main thing” the main thing (as I remember from my old days in the MSU Baptist Student Union). The 10-10-10 process seems to be a good vehicle for determining when that shift is important and when it is a smokescreen fo guilt, distraction or just plain impulsiveness. Values equal choices. There’s no getting around it. If values are to govern our lives and inspire action, then they will invariably require choices–defacto, conscious or otherwise. Deal with it. And, choose.

All too often we let the opinions or values of others dictate how we set our tipping point–whether it’s a boss or a screaming child or a well-meaning friend. But, noone can really determine my values but me. Noone can set MY priorities because noone can live them but me.

We choose our values with our eyes open, and we must own the consequences. A rich life is full of trade-offs, determined by what is most valuable to us. Forget the well-intentioned disapproval of others or the self-imposed guilt associated with a loss of “balance.”  Let your choices reflect your “most.”

Thanks for the wake-up call, Suzy!