Fashionista to Passionista

My last post was about asking ourselves effective questions. Rather than asking “Why me?”, an effective question would be “What can I do to change XYZ?” Effective questions place the accountability squarely in our laps. Before we can ask ourselves effective questions, we need to have a realistic and clear picture of where we are. Only then will we know the questions we need to ask ourselves.

By middle-age we have honed our bad habits into highly developed patterns of behaviour; we’ve had a lot of time to practice. By this age-and-stage, there is often at least one area of our lives which requires great attention to make it right. Let’s use me as an example with an entirely hypothetical “problem area”: finances. My boss recently told me that if I put even half as much effort into my finances as I did into my personal style, I’d be rich. And he is right. One of my passions is fashion (who knew??), and I have the full walk-in closet and hefty Visa bill to prove it.

I could spend my time doing a number of things. I could beat myself up, berating myself for spending money I didn’t have on things that weren’t necessary (although I would argue that a pair of red, patent-leather t-strap pumps are as vital to my survival as, say, water is to yours). I could also blame external forces. If only my children didn’t need food and clothing. If only my children had decided that they wanted to work full time at 17 rather than further their education (how selfish of them). If only it didn’t cost so much to live in this city.

I could spend a lot of time pointing a finger at everything and everyone else. Of course, when you point 1 finger, 4 more are pointing back at you. Which is where the accountability begins and ends. Yes, there are times when external forces we didn’t expect, ask for, or choose become part of our experience. Our accountability then is, what did we do with that experience? Did we ask more victim-mentality questions? Did we rant and rave about how unfair life is? Did we have too much wine and watch too much trash tv? (Oh wait, that was me.)

No, damn it, we did not. We behaved like the mature, reasonable, gracious adults that we are. We took stock of the situation, we strategized our best plan of action, and we calmly moved forward. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

Because in the end, knowing where you are, and how you got there are the cornerstones of change and progress. You cannot move forward in any productive way without knowing where you are, and understanding the steps - right or wrong - that brought you to this point.

So back to my hypothetical problem. Years ago, unhappy in my marriage, I turned to a new love. Clothes. We had a fabulous, illicit relationship, my clothing and I. I couldn’t get enough. I mistakenly understood the fleeting joy of a new purchase as contentment. Of course, that joy passes quickly, and so I needed to repeat the behaviour. For the first 20 years of my adulthood (20 - 40ish), this was my vice, my undercover joy. After my divorce and the subsequent Kraft Dinner and tuna years where I worked 3 jobs and it was all I could do just to keep food on the table, my vice was instantly no longer important. It wasn’t even an option. When you have $5 to your name and you are trying to decide to buy 5 more boxes of Kraft Dinner or put gas in the car to get to work, purple suede Mary Janes simply aren’t part of the equation.

Once the kids and I were through that time and we had enough money for luxuries like fruit, I had to ask myself some hard questions or repeat the same mistakes. I hadn’t shopped for about 3 years. I can remember accepting a service award at our convention the first year I was back in the corporate work force (happily making enough money to work only one job) and I accepted it wearing a cardigan I had picked up at Goodwill because I didn’t have a jacket or blazer. That photo is still on the wall at the office and I see it every day when I arrive. And it reminds me every day of where I was, where I am now, and just how far an internal journey that has been. Because I asked myself some hard questions, I found the answers, and then came the effective questions.

Why did I over-shop (fill in your own vice here: eat, drink, sleep around, gamble, game, watch trash tv, etc)? To feel joy. Because I was lonely. What was the result of this behaviour? Not having adequate resources to comfortably support myself and my children after my divorce. Whose fault was all of this? Entirely mine and mine alone. Recognizing all this brought clarity, and with clarity came the effective questions, the answers to which I still live by (I don’t think that’s actually a sentence, but let’s move on.)

What can I do to improve my situation? Create a workable, reasonable budget. Exercise self-discipline. Keep my eye on the big picture goal of financial security in favour of fleeting fun. Purchase a few pieces each year, and replace others when they wear out. In truth, it isn’t even difficult. After recognizing that filling my closet was a substitute for personal contentment, I put a plan of action into place to honour the effective answers. I then set off on the journey I am currently on: to find and experience all the joy that I can through discovering what I am passionate about on a deeper level than fleeting fun. Those answers are starting to materialize, and they surprise me: service to others on subjects I care about, being a participating member of our global community, inspiring myself and others to live passionately every day.

Today, determine if you need to ask yourself some hard questions. I would, but I’m off to the store. Sadly, there is damage to the heel of one of my shoes that cannot be repaired. What a shame.

Our planet has seasons. Our lives have seasons. My butt seems to now have seasons. Currently, it is in a season of plenty…….

Every system has cycles. Cycles of lack, cycles of plenty, cycles of discovery, and of expression, and so on. My readers know that I have been through a very dark cycle over the past year, one of grief. I have basically spent my non-working time on the couch, a glass of cabernet at my side. And while the experience was, I believe, a necessary one (the winter of my soul as it were), the results are a newfound passion for life devoid of all nonsense and drama, and a much larger butt. Super.

I believe that personal growth does, and should, be ongoing. I think each and every one of us is pure potential and our only real mandate is to find that which makes us different, makes us special, and share that with the world in a constructive and positive manner. For instance, I’m very good with a big roller brush and blow dryer, and I’m happy that I can bring significant joy into the lives of those around me when I expose them to my incredible hair. I’m currently working on finding a mandate which is a little less…..superficial. My shift in focus is that of fashionista to passionista.

So despite the daily steps we take to be better people and offer more to the world, there are those times where a significant event, perceived as either positive or negative (although Eckhart Tolle would argue, kindly, that it is neither; rather it simply IS and should be relished as such), forces such introspection and subsequent personal growth as to move from one plane of perspective to another. These huge leaps in paradigm occur during those darkest, most bleak times, if we only look for the lesson within the experience. And sometimes, the lesson simply IS to experience.

For instance, every day I try to be a better person than the day before. This tends to occur in small ways: Today I will actually push my grocery cart back to the little hut and make it easier for the parking lot guy, rather than leaving it beside my car so the wind can catch it and ram it into someone’s Lexus. Or, today, I will take the stairs at work rather than the elevator. Little things, that add up to a lifetime of being accountable and responsible for ourselves.

Or, I can experience a great loss, and use the painful but necessay downtime to really examine my priorities, and make great changes accordingly. So, rather then focusing my energy on things beyond my control (like, let’s say, my grown children), I decide to refocus it on myself and - oh, I don’t know - start a blog.

My point it, it really is darkest before the dawn and that is to say that sometimes you unable to experience the dawn if you don’t experience the darkness.

Now on to the downside (or backside - ha!) of those dark, winter periods of soul-searching and internal change and growth. A bigger butt. Yes, after just over a year of sitting around thinking, thinking, and thinking - and did I mention thinking? - I have come out the other side with a much clearer picture of which direction I want my personal journey to take (goals), and of the horse I am going to ride to get there (plan of action). And I have a much bigger butt to settle into the proverbial saddle.

There comes a times when the thinking has to stop, and the action has to begin. Thinking itself can become your only form of activity. Thinking, at some point, needs to transform into intention, which needs to transform into action. That is the order in which your personal journey should occur, and all three facets need to occur for maximum success and effectiveness.

And therefore, I am going to ensure that I take my clear mind, thoughtful purpose, deliberate intention, and accompanying butt, to the gym.