Guarding Your Vision

Vision.

Your vision.

What is it you want to manifest into the world?

Let’s brainstorm.

Be specific.

Is it your own restaurant, a book, a film, a family life, a business?

Is it traveling the world, living in a mansion, driving an Italian sports car, flying a jet?

What does it look like, feel like, smell like, sound like?

What is your vision for your best life?

Many people answer this question with “Well, my vision is just to get the bills paid on time, to get by.” Nope. Sorry, I’m going to have to call BS on that statement. That is not your vision. That is no one’s vision. That is simply the circumstances for which you and I and so many others have been conditioned to settle. There’s nothing wrong with paying the bills on time but that is only a stepping stone to your real vision. Think bigger. 

It’s ok – this is just between you and me. 

Actually this is just between you and you.

The importance of having a vision is in its power to move you. A vision will pull you forward. A vision will pull you out of depression. A vision will keep you going under the most grueling of circumstances. Don’t take my word for it. Pick up a copy of Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning”. Reading that book is life changing. If you’re more of a movie buff, go and rent the gorgeous “La Vita e Bella” (Life is Beautiful).  The message is the same. Your vision is more powerful than your external circumstances. Your vision will keep you moving and pull you forward. So go ahead. Think big. Think HUGE.  Make a vision board. Put it on your Pinterest. Scrapbook it.  Journal about it. Your vision is only for you.

Let me say that again: Your vision is for you. Here’s a really cool thing about the Universe, God, Krishna, Louise, whatever you call your Source (for our purposes we’ll say God, because it’s the easiest to type). Pay attention now:

If God gives you the vision, God will give you the provision.
 

God is not going to send your provision through your sister’s vision, or your friend’s vision, or your mom’s vision of how it can be accomplished. Your vision is for you.

This means that after all the vision-creation and praying, you have to get up off your knees, get up off your ass and begin moving in the direction of your vision. The responsibility is yours. Take a course; get a part time job in your new field. You must do the thing that scares you. Do you know what happens if you don’t step out of your comfort zone? Nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

That being said, you must also guard your vision. You don’t take a premature baby out of the womb or the incubator and show her to all and sundry. “Look! Look at this baby I’m incubating! When she’s all ready to be born, she’s going to be something!” You don’t expose your little baby-vision to all the germs and cooties and negativity that some people might rain down on her little head. She won’t survive, and then you’ll be heartbroken for the rest of your life. No, rather you guard her, protect her and only expose her to those whom you know for sure will nurture and protect your baby vision, just as you would. You get around those who will support your vision and help her grow until she is ready to be birthed into the world. Finding support is relatively easy in the information age – it’s a big internet out there, people- and if you have a vision, guaranteed someone out there has a similar one. Google it.

The flip-side of that is you must also protect your vision from what I like to call the “Crazymakers”. These are the people who will crap all over your vision, not because they don’t love you, (many of them will be your close friends and family) but because they just don’t get it, and that’s ok. Your vision is for you. It’s not for them; however your little baby vision must be protected from them at all costs. They are not in line with your vision for any number of reasons, usually traceable back to their own childhood programming and damage. Don’t be mad, it has nothing to do with you. Many Crazymakers are fearful that if you achieve your dreams they’ll be left behind; or it will point out to them how they gave up on their vision. Regardless, they come at you with their own agendas that have nothing to do with nurturing your vision. You must not expose your vision regularly to those who are not in line with its manifestation or it will die.
It. Will. Die.  Guarding it is your responsibility.

There are five types of toxic people that are absolute dream killers. I’m sure you know at least one of them. Some people are combinations of two or more of these types. If they’re in your family or circle of friends, by all means, love them, honor them, but for your own sake, don’t share your dream with them. Let them be dazzled when your dream manifests in all its glory.

The Complainer
This person likes to hear his own voice. He constantly complains about what isn't working in his life and yet gets energy from complaining and dumping his frustrations on you and other people. Nothing is ever his fault. He’s been cheated, mistreated, misunderstood and done wrong. And it’s everyone’s fault but his.

The Vampire
This is the needy person who constantly calls to ask for your guidance, support, information, advice or whatever she needs to feel better in the moment. Because of her neediness, the conversation often revolves around her, and you can almost feel the life being sucked out of you during the conversation. Four words you’ll rarely hear her utter: “So, how are YOU?”

The Shamer
This person is hazardous to your health. Run; don’t walk to the nearest exit. The shamer will cut you off, put you down, reprimand you, or make fun of you or your ideas, almost always in front of others. He often ignores your boundaries and will try to convince you that this criticism is for your own good. His favorite saying is, “Well, I’m just being honest.” The shamer is the kind of person who makes you question your own sanity before his. His agenda is to build himself up by embarrassing you.

 The Devil’s Advocate
This is the person who discounts or takes exception to everything you say. Often, she has a strong need to be right and gains energy by finding fault with another’s position. It is really quite exhausting to have a conversation with this contentious person, so eventually you end up giving in and deciding to just listen. Then you end up avoiding them out of plain old weariness.

The Town Crier
This person tries to create a sense of intimacy by talking with you about others, behind their backs. They want you to feel privileged to be “in the know”. The Town Crier gets energy from relaying stories, opinions, and the latest "scoop." By gossiping about others, he creates a lack of safety in his relationships, whether he realizes it or not. After all, if he'll talk about someone else, he'll talk about you. Your inside stuff and more importantly, your vision, simply aren’t safe with this person.

Vision.

Your Vision.

What is it that you want to manifest into the world?

See it, feel it, smell it, touch it, taste it.
Most of all, protect it. 
It's your baby.

I will leave you today with an old, Italian joke:

A man goes everyday to church and kneels before the statue of St Francis of Assisi. “Francesco” he pleads, “Please, please, please, help me to win the lottery!”For weeks and weeks, he goes every day to the statue, and on his knees, begs:

“Please, please, please, help me to win the lottery!”

Finally after months of begging, St Francis comes to life, steps down off his pedestal and says to the man:
“My son, please, please, PLEASE…… buy a ticket!”

Your vision is your ticket.

Go get it.

Getting Un-Stuck

 "I'm too wornout."  "It's not allowed."  "I'm too scared." 

"Stuck in neutral."  "Stuck in a rut."  "Stuck on stupid."

OK, people, the stuck stops here!

  "I feel so stuck. I need to find a passion, but I just can't." 

About half of my friends say this regularly. They talk as if their passion was a lost item they could find by digging around in their psyches, like beachcombers with bad shorts, wearing dark socks and sandals, running about with metal detectors searching for treasure in the sand. Just for a moment, stop digging. Look at the ocean. Can you sense its inconceivable power, its vast, untamed, glorious fertility? Good. Now we've got us one of them-there metaphors, Buford. 

Passion—including the passion we feel within ourselves and therefore call "ours"—is not something we can grasp or possess but rather, a force of nature, connected to and influenced by things that extend far beyond any single person. Finding it isn't like shopping for the perfect bargain at the mall; it's like leaving the comfortable terrain of home behind us and throwing ourselves into the sea. Most of us avoid taking the plunge. We turn away from the ocean, ignoring the roar of breakers, refusing to notice how our hair prickles when we smell that salt water. Then we spend years looking for our "lost" passion in the sand of a grotesquely overpopulated place called the "Island of Yeah-But." ( I really, really, REALLY hate the phrase "Yeah-But") 

The Island of Yeah-But 

The "yeah" pushes us toward our dreams and goals; the "but" stops us dead in our tracks. Yeah-but prefaces infinite justifications (translation: excuses) for avoiding the things our hearts find compelling. Try this: The next time you hear yourself say "Yeah, but…,"ask yourself if you're describing a genuine obstacle that cannot be overcome or walked around. If not, do exactly what your Yeah-but keeps telling you not to do. Write that novel. Adopt a puppy from the pound. Speak up for that charity or cause. Keep the "yeah"and kick the "but." If this feels like the "BIG SCARY" and the way is still unclear, you may need to address the factors that trigger the Yeah-buts in the first place. It been my observation that in the areas where I'm feeling stuck, I'm probably feeling one of the Three Fs: fatigued, forbidden or fearful. 

Fatigue 

If your inner life is so blahzie-blah that you don't enjoy anything, or if you know what you love but find yourself stuck in Yeah-but excuses, ask yourself, "How old do I feel?" If the answer is "Really, really old," you're probably too tired to embark on a grand journey of pursuing your passion. Fatigue can cause an absence of physical desire (an exhausted body isn't programmed to run races or make babies), a loss of mental sharpness, and/or a flat emotional profile. (This is my personal kryptonite.)

 Sometimes I'm just plain tired. At times, this may reach the level of depression. One day, a couple of years ago, a co-worker trudged into my office, plopped into a chair, and said she was depressed—only she said it so slowly that I thought she said "deep rest." (AHA! A light bulb moment!!) In a way, this was accurate. Depression can be part of a general systems shutdown, meant to turn us toward healing. A tired body, a tired mind, a tired heart can't—and shouldn't—be passionate about anything but rest. So if you're exhausted, take care of YOU. Curl up with the kid or the cat and watch TV, sleep, read, sleep some more. Eventually, you'll wake up feeling like it's time to go for a walk, or get in the kitchen and cook something beautiful to the senses, or go to the gym, or pickup the pen and write or something. One important caveat: If you aren't feeling refreshed after a couple of weeks' rest, it's time to see a doctor. You may have a condition, such as a chemical imbalance, that can be alleviated only through professional care. (There, friends in the medical profession, are you happy? I'm being all responsible and stuff) 

Forbidden  

Often stuck people have learned through experience, example, or explicit instruction that passion is bad. You may feel stuck if your super-religious parents were always railing against sin or if your suave, intellectual,"trendier-than-thou" friends mock anyone who seems enthusiastic about anything. We'll do almost anything to avoid shame. To see whether you have been stripped of your passion by social judgment, complete the following sentences with whatever comes to mind:

*If I didn't care what anyone thought, I would..... 

*If I could be sure I'd do it right, I would..... 

If you thought of things you've never actually done, things that make you giggle with embarrassment, you're probably forbidding yourself. You've learned to expect negative judgments when you get passionate about something, so (consciously or unconsciously) you avoid intense feeling and anything that causes it. The tragic thing is that many people never realize there are places where they can jump in and swim with confidence. It's true that some social environments are vicious, but others are warm, accepting, loving. Think of the things that you'd do if they weren't forbidden. If they don't violate your own moral code, start doing them and for the love of Pete, DON'T go sharing this part of yourself with the people who would judge you. I call this not letting anyone crap on your parade! Protect your passion. It's yours. You'd think this would be obvious, but it isn't. I've watched incredulously as dozens of friends and co-workers who are just getting unstuck seek support from the very people who got them stuck in the first place. They confide in their militantly atheist friends about their call to the ministry, or tell their pessimistic, puritanical mother that all they want to do with their life is DANCE! Don't make this mistake. You know what the sharks look like, and the places they lurk. Avoid them. Instead share your passion with the folks who are most likely to support you. In doing so, you'll add social approval to the inherent joy doing what you are called to do—and it will feel fabulous. 

Fearful 

An acquaintance of mine is a gorgeous, intelligent, girl preparing to ask for a promotion at her job. The pressure triggered a whole bunch of fears she had suffered since she was the youngest child of a severely disapproving father. She began to replace healthy behaviors with eating binges, and she started gaining weight while losing confidence. (Any woman will tell you that sudden weight gain, no matter how minuscule, is a confidence killer). She talked to me, a bit about her fear (we don't know each other that well). This helped her get a handle on her fear, but didn't eliminate it. Why? Because she really, really cared about getting that job, and there was a good chance she'd fail, and that was super-scary to her. Period. To get unstuck,we are compelled to take this kind of risk, fearful or not. Waiting to feel brave so that you can act brave? Oh no. So sorry, but thanks for playing. The only way to develop courage is to act brave regardless of the level of fear you are experiencing. In my acquaintance's case, this meant doing two things every day: nurturing that scared little girl inside her, and getting that scared little girl to do the kind of job that gets her noticed, to put herself out there. It's called the soft-heart, hard-ass approach. If you're stuck, I'd advise you to adopt it. Care for your heart by soothing it, but follow your dreams even when you're scared. Make friends with the fear that tells you you're doing something real and important, that you're breaking out of your comfort zone. By feeling the fear and doing something, anything to move you towards your dream anyway, you do risk failure—but you will still get unstuck, often in ways you never expected. 

The Family Edition

Note: This is a reprint of an e-letter I used to send out called "Insight of the Day". I had thought it lost, as is is an old one - BUT- One of my sister-friends resent it back to me because she thought it needed a re-read. So, thank you, Teen Teen for the reboot. I surely needed it! 

They range from the Sopranos to the Cosbys to the single mom down the block. They've known you all your life, and that's no small thing. They're your family. 

And yes, they may be loving, maddening, silly, critical, inspiring, horrendous or more likely a combination of the above, but they signal one very important thing: 

You are not alone.

Short of living in thatch hut in the Congo, I can't imagine a family further from the idealized 1950's family, a la "Leave it to Beaver", than mine. I'm a single mom and have been for a long time. I've also been an orphan for most of my adult life and, like many of my girlfriends, for many different reasons, an unmothered mother. So what does one do? In my case I acquired a family of friends; sisters, brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews and added it to the remnants of the one I grew up with. And it truly is a family, with all the stuff, good and bad, implied by that term. We get together, we fight, we lift each other up, we let each other down, we can see things very differently or we can be completely unified. We say awful things to each other sometimes but mess with one of us and you mess with all of us.  
That got me thinking after a particularly ugly exchange with a family member over something stupid: What is it that makes us a family? It's not blood. Most of us don't have that in common.  We are more a family of re-creation than procreation. Is it a deep abiding understanding of each other? Oh, HELL no.  I'm an artist, chock full of all the neuroses, narcissism and moments of inspiration that implies. Seventy percent of the people in my family (of origin and acquired) don't 'get' me, not even a little bit. The other 30% are artists themselves. It's ok, because I don't 'get' a lot of the people in my family either and vive la difference!
I do get that we are an unparalleled cast of characters and the play shall be forthcoming. Hey, a writer must write.

The Crazy Grandmother:
Well, that would be ME ...and my cousin. (Though we prefer the term eccentric.) We are both writers, we are both rock 'n' roll mamas, albeit in our own unique genres. She, a hippy from way back, is full of lovies and stories and can solve any problem in life via her a-MAZ-ing cooking. She will feed your tummy and feed your soul.  Me, I'm more of a hard rock chick, I'm more likely to pour the wine (or tequila) or make pot after pot of strong coffee and talk things through ad nauseam. By the end of the night we have usually solved the world's problems and are just waiting on the call from the UN.  The downside of all this is that we share some of  the same character flaws. We're both more than a little neurotic and just a tad dramatic. A tiny bit. OK, a lot. In fairness, we both feel things very deeply (artistic temperament and all), then bottle up the bad stuff, in the interest of keeping the 'peace and love' flowing. Until it doesn't. Then, whoa Nelly! Duck and cover, people. Things blow up, and in a  big way. (See: pressure cooker principle) 

 The Sisterfriends:  You all know these girls. Every woman has them and every man fears them. 
 

  Being more of a 'man's woman', I have a only a handful of sisterfriends and would cheerfully die for any one of them. They are very different from each other and each of them has something unique and wonderful to bring to the table. My sisterfriends include a white-light angel with 5 kids of her own who mothers me; the 20+ year sisterfriend who shared poverty with me when our kids were small and now rejoices in my artistic successes just as I rejoice in her financial ones; the sexy blonde who needed my help in getting ok with being the 'bad guy' in her divorce, and now reminds me that it's ok to love and let someone in, and there are several more, as vital as air and as different as snowflakes. They hold me up and keep me real. There is a particular subset of sisterfriends, however, that take it to the next level...

 The Aunties:
These are the sisterfriends who have become intimately involved with my kids. There are only two. They are the resource I go to when my spawn are driving me up a wall. They are also the resource that my kids go to when I'm driving them up a wall. It's made for some interesting conversations and some spectacular fights over the years. Every mother wants to feel her kids can talk to her about anything. Reality check: they can't, and they won't. In fact, at many points in their young lives you, Mom, are the equivalent of Satan and Sadaam Hussein all rolled in to one. I'm grateful for the fail-safe the Aunties provide for my kids, even though it is hard to realize that your kids see you vastly differently than you see yourself, and usually ascribe to you some diabolical intentions. But the Aunties provide an ear, some cookies and more importantly, advice that doesn't come from another kid. It really does take a village, people. 

 The Brotherfriends
Where, oh where, would I be with out these wonderful men... I would not be moving into a place in my life where I truly live as an artist were it not for my spectacular brotherfriends. Based purely on numbers - most of my friends are men. It's about a 50/50 gay/straight split. That said, my brotherfriends are disproportionately artists. Actors, musicians, poets, prophets and kings, all. They are my muses. They are pure support. While my relationships with my girlfriends can be fraught with passive-aggressive undertones and hidden agendas, let's face it, men are simple, straightforward. I treasure that. Every day.  They say what they mean and mean what they say. They listen when I bitch and then respond with things like -"So, what are you going to do about that?" Not "oh you poor dear",  not "let me fix it for you",  just - "How are YOU going to fix it". Think about it. It's the highest compliment. It says: "I know you're perfectly capable of fixing this. I know that all this whining is beneath you. So do you. So, ok- let's fix it. " And then they are 100% there, without judgement, for support, drinks, carrying heavy things, power tools, whatever it takes. My male friends want for me whatever I want for myself. I adore them.

 The Grown Kids
 

OK - so none of them are teenagers anymore. My kids and most of my friends' kids are grown people now. But they still feel like teenagers from this end. They still act like teenagers in some situations. They're still yelling - " GET OUT OF MY LIFE, but first can you do this or that for me?"  They're smart, funny, struggling with their own identities as adults, falling down, getting up, in short - doing all the things we were doing 20 years ago.  They're still blaming the parents for everything that's wrong with their life. That's ok -we can take it. We did it too. It will pass. They want desperately to be treated like adults...except for the bill paying, cleaning up after themselves part. Or when they're sick. Or when there's a crisis. Not that we're complaining. We're delighted they still need us, and once in awhile we're not the Source-of-All-Evil. 


These are the characters that make up my family. Again, why is this a family??
One word.
Love.
We love each other.
Unconditionally.
We screw up. We fight. We say awful things.
And then we forgive each other and move on.
Forgiveness is the very essence of love in action.
I mean real forgiveness. The 'never-bring-this-up-again' kind of letting go.
It's easily the most loving thing one can do.
Love.
It's what's for dinner.