Susan Mary Malone's Blog: Happiness is a Story, page 4

What On Earth Is My Purpose?

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Ever wondered that?

Women especially tend to ponder the question (or as my friends say about me, obsess!). Men, not so much. Men are after all simpler beings. Don’t throw tomatoes at me for that sentiment! That’s from pretty much all therapists’ theories about the differences in makeup between men and women. But as women wear more and more hats, often the thing that brings core meaning to their lives gets lost.

Of course the great Viktor Frankl asked that very question in Man’s Search for Meaning, which I love, love, love. But that’s a bit serious for me right at this second.

I have to confess though, as my “day job” took more and more of my time, cutting deeper and deeper into my writing world, I often would wake up wondering about my purpose. And though I absolutely love helping writers realize their dreams, one day I realized that my own were teetering precariously above an abyss.

Okay, so that may be a bit dramatic (and yes, the idea of me and drama shocks those who know me:).

But anyway, the less I wrote, the crazier I became. And the more flattened out. The drier. Life lost its passion. It’s luster. And I started feeling old! Old! How could that be? I’m still the baby of the family. That’s one of those wonderful things—I’ll always be the baby of the family.

But again, I digress (my friends are hooting here).

What exactly is purpose of life?

The thing is, I, like you, am good at many things. I often say that if I had another life to lead, I’d be an investigative journalist (one of those things I did in an earlier incarnation in this life). Or, I’d run race horses (ditto). I loved those things. I was good at those things. But they didn’t drive my passion.

You know that feeling. Women speak to me about it almost every day. Knowing, inherently that there’s gotta be something more. The “is this all there is?” feeling. In today’s world of nanosecond pace, of paying the piper, of always being connected, of, well, all the insanity we call living, without attending to that small still voice of “purpose,” at the end of the day we wonder what it was all for.

And I know mine. I’ve known it since I was a little girl. That thing that puts zing in my step and blood rushing through my veins and a smile on face is writing stories. I was actually somewhat famous as an elementary-school child for my poetry (they generously neglected to tell me how awful it was!). The oft-repeated one still: “Knights were bold, even when it was cold.” I never said you had to be good at that thing that drives you

But oddly enough, if you pursue and practice your passion—whatever it is—not only do you sing and smile more often, but you get better and better at it too.

Once I started having that “is that all there is” feeling, I knew exactly what I had to do. So I started on a plan to write more, and edit less. I’ll always edit, some. But over the last few years, I set that goal in motion, with a plan. And I’m working that plan.

In fact, I gave myself the entire month of July off (as a birthday present) to finish my new novel (the wine one I’ve been talking about for a while). Oh, my! Was that just heaven. And nothing allows a writer to deepen a work like being immersed in it.

So what is it you love that you’re pushing aside? What floats that boat of yours (even if the bindings feel old)?

That thing. Focus on that thing. It brings happiness along with a reason for living, rather than just existing.

Dr. Frankl did of course focus on purpose of life, and how that brought happiness. And he nailed it with, “. . . a human being is not one in pursuit of happiness but rather in search of a reason to become happy . . .”

What pursuit makes you happy?

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My Short List of Great Novels and Why

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Isn’t it difficult to name your favorite books?

Or, maybe not.

But I love so many of them, narrowing down a list proves, well, tough.

I posted a few weeks ago about why I love Lit Fic. And mentioned that if someone was seeking a good read, I’d be glad to give a list.

Many folks took me up on it!

So here’s short list and why (my long list would take 3 days to get through), off the top of my head. Although I’m sure as soon as I post this, I’ll think of 20 more! And I’m limiting this to novels for the same reason (although I love nonfiction too).

And no, they aren’t in any particular order except for the final one

Near Death Brings All Of Our Emotions To The Fore

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So I wrote a couple of years ago about my sister and her cancer diagnosis. Or more specifically, our emotions as we tumbled through it.

Anyone dealing with cancer, whether personally or a loved one, knows the tumultuous roller coaster we ride. It’s a doozy.

I’m happy to report that after chemo and radiation, her metastatic lung cancer is under control. She’s actually in remission! And her recent blood markers were in fact better.

So we’re pretty happy!

As you know, when going through these awful times, they include not only the sadness, horror, fear—all the negative emotions—but also intervals of sweetness and love and even laughter.

Near death brings all of our emotions to the fore.

And while I hear stories of uncaring oncologists all the time, that hasn’t been my experience. My mother’s oncologist was a saint. And my sister’s is very thoughtful and kind, and to my surprise, unconventional to boot. And not shy about utilizing any means to the end.

Of course, when any diagnosis comes my way, I do my due diligence and research treatments, etc., whether for my dogs or my people. And while googling most conditions is often not prudent (everything turns terminal on the web!), once the diagnosis is in, treatment options abound there.

Like you, I’ve taken many more advanced courses than I ever wanted to learn . . .

They treated this cancer the conventional way, with good old chemo and radiation. New treatments are on the horizon, but with clinical trials too far to get to, the team decided on this option.

But those weren’t the only things utilized.

So I’d already found this “other” method, found the studies, found the data.

My sister would hear none of it. Oh, not on moral or even legal grounds, but because she’d tried it in her youth and didn’t like it. I persisted—to no avail.

She can be a bit stubborn J But I have to say, that trait proves helpful when battling the demon disease.

And then came our next oncology visit.

The news was promising—we were on the right road. Euphoria! Our oncologist was ecstatic as well—almost giddy, even. In her line of work, I’m sure being able to impart good news makes her month.

And then I about fell out of my chair.

Leaning toward my sister, peering over thick wire-framed glasses, in the most professorial tone, the oncologist said evenly, “Would you be open to smoking some marijuana each day? The new studies have shown that it can reduce the kind of tumor you have.”

I swear there is a God! Nothing I said could move my sister off of No. But let her oncologist suggest it!

Of course, the doctor followed up with the standard: “Since medical marijuana isn’t legal in our state, I will deny I said this.”

Not a problem! I’ll deny you said it too!

Because here’s the scoop: Harvard University researchers found that a compound in pot may fight lung cancer. In both laboratory and mouse studies, delta-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) cuts tumor growth in half in common lung cancer. And, it impedes the cancer’s ability to spread.

That was way good enough for me. Or, actually, far, far more than good enough.

And, from the doc’s mouth, it was good enough for my sister.

Have no fear—a pothead she has not become. She still doesn’t like it. And doesn’t do much of it. But has been faithful with some daily use, just as the doctor ordered.

Did I mention she’s in remission?

Of course, we can’t say the pot did that. But if it had one tiny bit of effect . . .

When faced with a terrible illness, I’m a believer in fighting with every gun in the arsenal. Legal, or not.

So a funny thing happened on the way to our cancer fight. We found an unconventional and caring doc. An unconventional additional treatment.

And most of all, we found remission.

And I am more grateful than I have words to say.

The post Near Death Brings All Of Our Emotions To The Fore appeared first on Susan Mary Malone.

Fear of Almost Flying

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I’m embarking on something new.

And while Erica Jong’s classic Fear of Flying was about a woman’s sexual liberation (which rest assured, mine is not!), it encompassed all the fears Isadora had about breaking out of her mold.

Of living life anew.

Okay, so what I’m doing isn’t entirely novel for me, and something I once did for lots longer stretches. But decades have passed since that occurred, and I’ve not done this in quite the same way.

You know how when you make such a decision, fear bubbles right straight up?

Why didn’t I think that would happen? I just didn’t think about it one way or another.

I know. Silly, isn’t it?

Of course a reason has existed for me to not do this. Because this desire isn’t close to my heart, it is my heart. And sacred to my soul.

Funny how when you put off such passion, it speaks to you quietly in the night . . .

Although if you don’t heed that whisper, the nudges get louder. More insistent. The repercussions from avoiding that thing grow graver.

Which became a constant in my world.

Managing one’s heart’s desire in the face of “real” life can be a trick, no? I’ve talked about this a lot, about going for the dream while still paying the bills, etc. We walk a fine and often tenuous tightrope.

But I know—truly I know—what happens when you put those dreams on hold.

For a long stretch of my life, I was only a writer. Ahhh, the stories I produced during that time! Nothing serves a book better than for the author to immerse herself entirely in it, shuttering the outer world for the luscious fertile plains of fiction. Simply, nothing.

But life of course had to be lived in the mundane as well. At the time, I had 3 books traditionally published (one novel and 2 co-authored works of nonfiction). Three more would follow down the line. And while that brought monetary dividends, those weren’t enough to live on.

So I started my editorial business, and was shocked at how wonderfully that went.

So much so, that for the first decade or so, I squeezed in writing in between. The next decade, I hardly wrote at all.

And one day I awakened with the thought: Is this all there is?

Because while I love editing, and love working with writers and seeing them become successful, my heart belongs to my own fictional worlds.

Y’all know this already, I know, as I’ve talked about it many times.

So after having that ‘is that all there is’ moment, and knowing what that means, I rearranged my life to facilitate writing fiction again.

Whew!

I’ve almost finished the new wine novel. Almost. Over the last year, I’ve restructured and deepened it. Polished, and rewritten and revised. For 9 months, I took a week each month to do so, plus the morning hours the rest of the months.

Then this year, I let it slide a bit. Well, that’s not entirely true. I needed distance in order to see what still needed to be done.

Clarity came as to the further restructuring, the deeper insights into the main character. The kind of clarity that for an artist, only comes with that distance, and a quieting of the mind.

Rather than a process of analyzing and thinking out the issues, it’s rather one of observing, then letting the answers trickle in. Allowing the richness of the subconscious to reveal deeper visions still.

And now, for the first time in decades, I’m taking the entire month to do nothing but write.

Exhilarating!

And terrifying.

Fear of success? Fear of failure?

Those aren’t the root of my fears. Because of course, being the analytical person that I am, I had to snuffle that all out before I could begin J

Mine is a variation: Fear I may never come back.

I know the lure of the muse, how she seduces and beckons as alcohol must for the addicted. I know the abyss into which a novelist must jump in order to fashion magic from thin air.

Heady and seductive and filled with the shadow side of the psyche, creation comes from the dark places of the soul. This, I know for true.

As it is for my main character in this book. As it will be for me as I deepen and finish it.

I may get lost there, indulging in the deliciousness of that world. And not return.

So wish me bon voyage and luck! I’ll see you on the flip side.

Maybe

What Faith Means to Me

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We think of faith in this country as homogenous, don’t we?

I mean, we see the United States as a Christian nation. It’s almost a given, the only differences coming via denominations, from the most fundamentalist to the outer reaches of liberal churches, and every biblical belief system in between.

In this country, anyway, if someone asks if you believe in God, it’s the Christian God they’re talking about.

But if you grew up in Tibet, you’d think the same way—only you’d be Buddhist. And puzzled that everyone else is not.

So much of what we believe was taught to us as children, in our family homes.

Or, not.

According to the Hartford Institute of Religion Research, more than 40% of people say they go to church every week, but statistics show that fewer than 20% actually attend.

Of course, attending church doesn’t give us an accurate idea of how people perceive religious affiliation. And statistics vary as to how folks identify their religions as well.

But religious affiliation and faith are different beasts, no?

We all know the folks who people the pews every time the church doors open, but seem to practice little of what they profess. Conversely, we also know those who never darken the doors, yet exemplify the teachings of the Christ with every breath.

And of course, someone’s faith meter is not ours to judge J

Although judge, we do. Wars are fought over this every day . . .

One phenomenon that has always brought awe, which crosses pretty much every religious affiliation, is the revelation experience. You know—where you have a personal encounter with a higher power, whatever you perceive that to be.

Perhaps you’ve had a profound one. Perhaps none at all. Or maybe you’re seeking that very thing.

Although humans have experienced such wonders since the dawn of mankind, a slippery slope exists here. So often, they take that personal revelation of the divine as something that everyone now “should” (or even must) believe.

I.e., seizing the personal experience and mandating it for all others.

Which is kinda tough to effect, since quite conflicting religious groups say all people now must believe as they do, act as they do, or Hell’s doors will open wide to swoop them in.

They profess to have that perfect bead on what the divine actually is.

Quite often, the approach is, “If you don’t believe what (whichever god) I do, then let me explain so you’ll get it. And if you still don’t, let me keep beating you in the head with it until you understand how right I am.”

Or, in the extreme, cut off your head entirely.

But as the Dalai Lama said when asked the difference in Catholicism and Buddhism:

“Same path, different walking stick.”

I’ve studied (and been a part of) different religious groups. I do confess—that’s been a while back.

Once you dig deep into the core though, they all resonate with parallel Truths.

For example, amazing when you study them how alike the original creation myths across ancient cultures were. The heart within them beats to a matching rhythm. Likewise the savior motifs, which unfold with identical patterns and designs.

And the plethora of pitfalls are the same as well, as the human ego attempts to grapple with and indeed tame the numinous divine. A divine which exceeds our grasps in this lifetime.

How often we make god in our own images . . .

I love the work of Joseph Campbell, and have studied him for decades. In the Masks of Eternity, he explores how all of our names and images for God are merely masks. They simply represent that ultimate essence, which transcends language and art. Which rises beyond this life.

And they simultaneously reveal and obscure the deeper divine.

“Well, you have to go past the image . . .” Campbell said. “The image of God becomes the final obstruction. Your God is your ultimate barrier.”

Now we’re getting to faith.

The deeper divine, Campbell said, is one of transcendence, and experience. It has to be felt, has to shift from the head to the heart, from thinking to feeling, residing in what we call the soul.

Faith, to me, isn’t dogma. But rather, that experience of the divine, which resides in the inner reaches of the heart and echoes softly there. If you have a divine revelation that is different from mine, I do not believe yours is wrong.

I honor the sacred within us all.

As Jesus said: “The Kingdom of God is within you.”

I’m much more interested in how your faith dwells in your life; how by following the Truths found there, your world and therefore the greater one is enhanced and enriched. I love knowing how your walking stick helps guide your path.

Whether you believe in the God of Abraham, or the savior figure of Jesus, or

follow the Buddha, find your soul in the Hindu god Krishna, are drawn to the Great Mother in all of her incarnations, pray to your ancestors every night before sleep, or any of the other myriad belief systems, I just want to know what truths you’ve unearthed.

But more, I want to know how the experience of the numinous surges through your soul.

Because faith is that very thing in the end that eludes fact, historical, empirical, or otherwise. You know, that evidence of things not seen.

As Campbell said:

“Every god, every mythology, every religion, is true in this sense: it is true as metaphorical of the human and cosmic mystery.

He who thinks he knows doesn’t know. He who knows that he doesn’t know, knows.”

What does faith mean to you?

The post What Faith Means to Me appeared first on Susan Mary Malone.

Why I love Lit Fic

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Why do you read books? Is it to be transported into a different time and place? To learn something or sharpen a skill set via non-fiction? Mindless entertainment? A bit of titillation a la Erotica?

Or are you one of the new masses, who don’t read books at all?

I read all the time. Often other people’s manuscripts, as I’m editing those, but I squeeze in great novels in between. You might be like me and read eclectically, or, hone in on one genre (which is mostly the way).

And even though I do read a bit of everything (heavy on the “bit”), when doing so for pleasure, give me a Literary novel any day.

When I talk to folks about reading (which of course I do anywhere and any time, especially when I see someone with a book in her lap), they often say they devour this author, or that genre. And it doesn’t take long to ferret out that’s pretty much all they read.

We’re drawn to the things we love, no?

And so many people tell me they don’t read Literary because it’s too high brow. Too difficult to wade through. Or just plain not entertaining enough.

This puzzles me. I must confess, although I try—truly I do!—to understand this criticism, I just don’t see it.

Because a great novel, well written, by a writer at the top of her game, includes all the things listed in the first paragraph. And then so much more.

Before the advent of all this technology, people read. Of course, that’s been steadily dropping for a while now. According to a study by the National Endowment for the Arts, “A Decade of Arts Engagement,” in 2012, 55 percent of adults read at least one book in the previous year, which wasn’t required for work or school. Far more women than men read books and/or literature. And the age group most likely to read books and literature is the 65-74 age range. Whether they have more time to read, or grew up reading and never quit, well, that’s up in the air.

Many recent studies have shown the benefits of reading fiction. And these are meaningful reasons.

Keith Oatley, a cognitive psychologist at the University of Toronto, a novelist, and the author of a new review in the journal, Trends in Cognitive Sciences, sums this up nicely:

"People who read more fiction were better at empathy and understanding others."

And this effect is especially prevalent with Literary Fiction.

I’ve thought that all my life. But it’s always nice to have studies to back it up.

Isn’t that in itself enough to encourage everyone to read more? Couldn’t we all, especially in this tumultuous day and time, use a little more understanding and empathy?

And it’s a factor in why I love Lit Fic. Understanding—truly understanding—what makes other folks tick is a fascination of mine. It has changed the way I see the world, absolutely for the better.

When you glimpse under the veil of the “other” in your midst, he isn’t so other after all . . .

I talk about books I love often, and have done so via these posts as well. I love the literary greats of our time, love the insights they create over 400 pages, love the cadence to their voices, the characters they create.

On my crazy one-day trip to Albuquerque, I picked up Ann Patchett’s newest, Commonwealth. I do a lot of reading for pleasure on planes.

Now, Patchett isn’t a barely known writer, as I often write about, but a NY Times bestselling author, and this one hit #1 as well.

What she is, however, is a brilliant author at the very top of her game. The prose is exquisite, equal parts poignancy and humor. The weaving of the storyline, back and forth, executed with such style and grace.

The family secret—one of collaboration by the kids of the blended household—is horrible indeed.

But that’s not what you’re left with. Rather, what sings through these pages is how we bond, with whom we bond, and an understanding of why we do so, in all of our flawed glory.

Now, how can you pass that up? How is this not entertainment of the highest kind?

Does it take an investment not only of time, but of mental acuity as well? Yep. This isn’t like watching a sitcom.

But ahhhhh, the benefits.

Manna from the gods.

So how about it? What if you tried just one Literary novel a year? Just one. I can give you a list J

With all the benefits, and all the enjoyment, it’s a full-circle win.

As Ann Patchett said:

“Reading fiction not only develops our imagination and creativity, it gives us the skills to be alone. It gives us the ability to feel empathy for people we've never met, living lives we couldn't possibly experience for ourselves, because the book puts us inside the character's skin.”

What have you read lately?

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A One-Day Whirlwind Trip

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Graduation season is behind us.

Thank God!

No, no, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t. Well, only kinda, maybe.

I don’t know about you, but I received many invitations to graduations this spring/summer. Almost all were fairly close in proximity. Easy to get to.

Gifts were delivered but my butt didn’t reach those seats. I’d pretty much rather have my fingertips cut off than soldier through a graduation ceremony (I mean, wouldn’t you?).

But one just required my presence. And of course, it was a state away.

And also, as these things happen, my pet-sitter sister could do the mid-day puppy run, but couldn’t spend the night.

Where there’s a will there’s a way, as my mom liked to say.

Right.

But my nephew Jude was graduating high school in Albuquerque, at 9:30 AM, and by hook or by crook, I was gonna be there.

Up at 2 AM I was, driving by 4 to DFW airport (the one furthest away, as the closer airport couldn’t get me there in time) to get through security, board the plane, get to Albuquerque by 8 so the car could get me to the school by 9.

Security, well, you know how it’s pretty tight these days on account of all the terroristic activity? Business folks surely face this all the time, with one-day turnarounds for meetings, etc. And surely they get the once-over as well. But never having done such a thing, I was fairly surprised at how seriously they took me.

Extra attention. Pat downs both ways. And geez—there I was in my cute long and flowing gauzy white skirt and wispy draping blouse, looking like a fairy queen out of a storybook. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I can’t imagine I looked much like a terrorista. Especially with those strappy little dreamsickle sandals that matched.

On that note, have you ever flown twice in one day? Amazing what it does for swelling feet. Those cute little strappy sandals would look like pieces of strained pipe cleaners dug into puffy flesh by 9 that night.

And timing was pretty crucial. One little glitch and the ceremony would go on without me. The nerve!

But all worked like the proverbial clock. As my chatty driver dropped me at the school, up came a nice man in a golf cart, offering a ride across campus to the site of the ceremony. New Mexico folks are just so accommodating!

Bosque is a small school, the class of ’17 being 64 in number. The faculty stay very involved with the students. The Headmaster, Billy, knows them all well. I’ve met many of them over the years, and am always so impressed with their commitment. I know Billy, and consider his wife, Betul, a friend and kindred spirit.

Fine folks. Gifted kids. A beautiful New Mexico spring morning. All the ingredients in place for a pretty ceremony.

Still, I was unprepared.

How many graduations have you sat through, praying fervently that they would just end or you’d go to your blessed reward, whichever came first?

I must confess, my expectations languished in the low brackish swamps . . .

But under an expansive grove of sprawling cottonwood trees, a soft breeze billowing wisps of white puffs through the delightfully dry air, I found Suzanne first thing. Ah, do I love my chosen sister! Her smile always makes my heart sing.

With hugs and laughter and joy and jokes, a large group of us took our seats as music began.

Twice the songs were performed by the choir, and ah, the voices of those kids. Their notes as pure and nuanced as the glistening sunlight dappling through the trees.

Then it went into funny. Lots of anecdotes about antics by the kids, told by teachers to many blushes and much tittering laughter. Then skits including faculty and students, as we were given a window into their daily world.

The Headmaster gave a personal talk, including his departing students in the vignettes.

It felt more like being at a Broadway play than a high school graduation.

The highlight, at least for me, was Jude’s dad, Dan, giving the commencement. I’ve talked about Dan before, having attended his consecration ceremony last summer. I’ve known him for decades, and of course, he’ll always be Dan to me, even though his title now is The Rt. Rev. Daniel G. P. Gutiérrez, XVI Bishop of The Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania.

Yep, that Dan. The Bishop.

I’ve heard him teach (I can’t bring myself to say preach, as that never feels like what he’s doing) many times.

Gifted, he is.

His words to those kids, they hopefully internalized, to pull out in the dark times. His sentiments that day, I think of often. And hope the graduates do too.

They are mighty words for our time:

“Write you story so that when you walk into the room will people feel expectation instead of apprehension. When you leave it they are inspired rather than relieved. Remember, it is your story. Voice your beliefs with clarity and authenticity while at the same time seek the good with those you disagree. Humanize and not demonize. We are in this together. If a person is being abused, neglected, marginalized or hurt by anything or anyone, stand with them. Act with love, and kindness. Then go to the pain and margins and pull everyone in. You will raise our collective humanity to a higher and deeper place. It is said that only the soul that ventilates the world with tenderness, kindness and love has the only chance of changing it. As for survival of the fittest, winner take all, revenge or retribution, I have spent far too many nights holding the hands of those taking their final breaths. They do not mean a damn thing. Only that every life truly has meaning and only, only love . . . Class of 2017, my love for you is great. This is your story. You know what you gotta do. Go. Succeed, do great things, make great discoveries. Create with passion and live all your dreams. While you are at it. Laugh. Be kind, tender and compassionate. Look for good in everything and everyone . . . May your story give hope, may you make one life breathe easier. May you make the world better because of you and in the process you will change the world. I bless you as you go forth to write your story. Go and make it a better place.”

Isn’t it funny how when you make an effort to do something you feel compelled to do, no matter the time and trouble to do so, that you’re the one who is blessed.

Those kids will change our world for the good. May Dan’s words ring in their hearts forever, as they will in mine. As they might in yours.

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Can You Follow Your Dreams and Find Success?

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Can You Follow Your Dreams and Find Success?

What if you could succeed by following your deepest passion?

You know—that thing you do even if in secret, so you can avoid ridicule, naysayers, guilt-jerkers, etc. Or, the one you’ve put on the back burner for years, maybe decades, because, well, you have bills to pay, kids to raise . . . .

What if you could succeed by following your deepest passion?

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Or worse, you’ve given up on your dreams because they seemed like folly.

Sound familiar?

Last week I posted about life happening when we’re making other plans. About unforeseen twists taking us down roads we never would have imagined.

And many of the responses caught my attention.

A lot of folks talked about their passions. And how they weren’t pursuing them because of all the real-life day-to-day grind. I heard from people privately as well, about how they hadn’t been successful with those dreams. How they’d given up, they were too old, etc.

You’ve heard the advice a million times these days (and lots of folks have become rich by preaching it!) that you can be anything you want to be; do anything you want to do. And be successful at it.

Well, I believe that to be true. But it also truly depends upon how you define success . . .

There’s even a huge bestselling book about doing what you love and the money will follow. It certainly did for the author, as so many folks bought the book . . .

But I can guarantee without going out on any limbs that just because you have the dream to write a novel, that doesn’t mean you’re going to become a bestselling author. Only so many of those exist in any decade. And millions of writers have that dream . . .

Annoying, isn’t it.

As I work with writers, I’m constantly surprised how many have “bought into” that belief—that they’ll become rich and famous. Will some of them? It’s possible. But you don’t really want to know the odds . . .

Still and yet, I believe into my soul (and my life experience has born this out), if you have a true passion for something, a golden dream residing high atop that shining hill, then the wherewithal to reach it lies within you as well.

And unless you follow that star, your life will grow dimmer because of it.

But reaching the dream I’m talking about is in learning, mastering, achieving the thing itself—not some outer award.

Let’s face it—if to you success means the latter, then get ready for a lot of disappointments. Of course we all know that if our self-worth is based on other people’s reactions, we have no self-worth at all.

In my own world, writing is my life. I love, love editing, which as I mentioned last week, I fell into and am quite successful.

But it’s in the writing of fiction where my life force flourishes.

Am I successful as an author? I’ve had 6 books published. The old-fashioned way—where publishers pay you for the rights to publish.

Am I rich and famous? Lol!

But I have an audience awaiting my next book. And nothing is sweeter to me in this world. When readers actually “get” those pieces of your soul . . . well, what could be better?

Funny too, that passion thing? If you want to be truly successful, following it also becomes a job.

We think of writers living this glamourous life, no? You know, Hemingway—writing in the mornings, drinking and swimming and fishing and drinking and drinking . . . all the afternoons away.

Course, as Hemingway famously said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

Whatever your passion, I’m sure it’s every bit as exacting. That if you truly pursue it, you know exactly what the “job” part of this means.

Is it difficult to follow that passion and still function in the world, as per paying your bills, having a life, etc.?

Sure can be, can’t it. And we see various ways to affect this. While yep, if a dream drives you, not doing it will kill your soul, the starving-artist syndrome isn’t terribly productive either.

Seth Godin tells the story of an artist friend who worked as a grunt at a record company because music was his bliss. Godin’s question: Could his friend have better served himself, and society in general, by working as a schoolteacher during the day, then spending his spare time pursuing his passion?

A la Mr. Holland’s Opus.

But interesting question, no?

And one we must answer for ourselves.

Because in essence, we’re individuals pursuing our own goals, while simultaneously part of the larger cultural whole. The psychologist Carl Jung said that while we may be the heroes in our own stories, at the same time we’re also the spear chuckers in someone else’s.

What’s the magic formula? I don’t know about you, but I came down, and continue to come down, somewhere in that middle. I love my editorial job, love working with writers.

And I’ll also keep chasing that star. Not because I can’t live if I’m not a bestselling author, but because I can’t breathe very well when not writing.

Joseph Campbell had it right all along:

“Follow your bliss ... If you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.”

How do you function in this world and still follow your dreams?

The post Can You Follow Your Dreams and Find Success? appeared first on Susan Mary Malone.

Life Happens when You’re Making other Plans

We all know that saying, right? Well, once we get to a certain age anyhow, we do

8 Ways to be Present in the Moment even if Life Sucks

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Okay, so life isn’t all roses. We know that, right? Some days a sack of coal just gets dumped on your doorstep.

And yep, we have to deal with it.

Of course we all know that the most effective way to deal with whatever we’re experiencing is to stay present, stay in the now. Because that’s what brings the clarity and calmness needed to find solutions to the issue.

But when in the midst of trauma, from the smallest to the most tragic, sometimes even figuring out how to live in the present moment seems quite elusive indeed.

I mean, when I have a flat, I just want it fixed and to be home, you know?

Unfortunately, my tire doesn’t get changed until I call AAA and wait. But how cool to have them come deal with it!

So let’s address how to be present in the moment so we can get through whatever mess consciously, and in the best form.

1. Give voice to the emotion

I know when crap happens, negative emotion arises. And many times, our first response is to realize that it’s negative, and try and quash it. Because we’re all positive thinkers, right?

But stuffing negative emotions never works now, does it. We can all recount anecdotal evidence for that one. What that brings is denial.

And the only way to really get through an emotion is, well, through it. So give voice to it. Accept it. Do as in Right Use of Will and scream at the sky if you need to. Which will then let it out.

  2. Question the veracity of your Truth of the matter

Something bad happens and we instantly place judgement on it, or worse, ourselves.

“Things never work out for me.”

“Crap just follows me.”

“I’ll never make it in x, y, or z.”

Really? Do you know this for an absolute fact? Can you say this with 100% accuracy?

If you can, wow, that crystal ball must be truly effective! Send it my way J

Because the truth is, we can’t be entirely, 100% sure about much of anything in this life. And if something isn’t 100% true, then why are we banking our emotions on it?

  3. Realize that you’re not the one cosmic fluke

You know, honestly, everybody gets that sack of coal now and then. Shocking, isn’t it? It’s not just you?

We all have to deal with stuff we’d prefer not to. And just knowing that others have done so, and gotten through, makes me feel better. Doesn’t it you?

  4. Pause, breathe, and be the witness to your life

Of course breathing and meditation are part of all of this, but in the midst of turmoil, often taking 20 minutes to sit in the lotus position and meditate isn’t in the cards.

But breathing always is though. And with the in and out of the breath, an internal stillness comes.

And then, watch your emotions. See them as if from outside of yourself. Third person works great for me: There is Susan feeling all stressed again over something she can’t control.

This isn’t a judging session. But rather, a non-judgmental awareness of what you’re seeing/doing/feeling in any moment in time.

I’m always amazed at the clarity that brings me.

  5. Stop and smell the roses

That’s the last thing you want to do in this situation, right? I mean, seriously, folks, we have real issues here!

But funny thing—if you focus your attention even for a second on something else, you not only get the benefit of distraction, but that gives your brain a break as well.

Often, an instant is all that wonderful brain needs to refocus on the present moment, and find solutions to the task at hand.

As Einstein said, “You cannot solve a problem with the same mind that created it.”

  6. Realize there is always a lesson here

No matter what’s going on, there’s something to be learned from it. Something you can gain, whether it’s mastery of a task, insight into a relationship, or even learning how you deal with things by habit, rather than consciously.

“I’m wise enough, Lord!” we often say.

Then again, if we were all that wise I’m fairly sure we’d have evaporated into what’s next by now.

We can always learn, and learning is always a good thing.

  7. Realize a blessing resides herein

Always.

I just had an interesting validation of this point. I decided that my two-year-old Lab wasn’t going to make it in my breeding program. That’s always such a difficult decision, because it means the loss of all that potential, of all that time and investment in her.

So when I had her spayed, we found that her uterus, even at that young age, was filled with edema and paper thin. It bled everywhere the vet touched. And she had some metritis as well.

Which is scary, especially for a girl so young. Had I thought she was going to work out, I’d have shown her and ultimately bred her, and with that sort of uterus, I could have lost her by doing so. Or, she could have had an infection even without being bred, and once the cervix was closed, I could have lost her.

I cannot express how blessed I felt bringing her home from that surgery . . .

Yes, there is always a blessing.

  8. Persist

Times of trouble and trauma are not the time to reconsider if what you’re doing is your true path. If your life is working. If you should choose another way.

You’re already filled with enough angst to deal with, and any major life decisions at this point will not be in your best interest.

All sages, therapists, counselors agree on this point. There’s a reason the truism exists that says when you lose someone very close, don’t many any life decisions for at least a year.

You have to get through the trauma first.

So in times of that, just focus on where you are. Then take the next step. Then the next.

You can decide whether your life is on track or not down the road. Because that decision will always be there, no?

So even in the worst of times, we can not only stay in the now, but learn how to enjoy the present moment as well.

It’s worth it to do so, isn’t it?

As Tennessee Williams said, “Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going.”

The post 8 Ways to be Present in the Moment even if Life Sucks appeared first on Susan Mary Malone.