dare to dream

Elizabeth Crook's The Night Journal

The Night Journal by Elizabeth Crook has me asking a lot of questions about the telling of our story.

Here's a synopsis from the back cover:

Meg Mabry has always felt oppressed by her family's legendary past. In the 1890's her great-grandmother Hannah Bass wrote revealing diaries of her life on the southwestern frontier, Hannah's daughter published these accounts, creating an American literary landmark, and cementing her career as a renowned historian in the process.

Meg, however, in rebellion against the imperious Bassie, has refused until now to read her great-grandmother's journals. But when the elderly Bassie returns to New Mexico, Meg concedes to accompany her--and soon everything they believed about the family is turned upside down.

Some observations, and many, many questions:

1) It had never occurred to me that one could be oppressed by a family's legendary past given that the past of my family isn't legendary.

Does this mean that if we 'tell the story' of achieving our dreams, our daughters will view this story as a burden rather than a gift?

2) As a follow-on, because my college degree is from a 2nd-tier university, it hadn't occurred to me that someone with an MBA from one of the world's foremost universities could feel pressure, as does one of my girlfriends, to make something of her life.

When our dream doesn't directly build on our own impressive past, will we give ourselves permission to pursue our dream, trusting that our seemingly unrelated skills will eventually come into play?

3) As The Night Journal unfolds, we find that Hannah Bass' legendary past was only part of the story. The Night Journal is the proverbial 'rest of the story.' It is only when Meg learns the whole story, the true story, that Hannah's story becomes a gift.

With the proliferation of blogs, do we risk telling a story that is so glammed up that our posterity will fail to know our true story?

As we give voice to our experiences, they do gain power, but do they influence lives for good or ill? Inspire or oppress?

***
Barbara Torris comments on this post in her blog entry Telling children the truth?, asking some of her own questions. Thank you Barbara!

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A down payment on our dream

Every time you spend money, you're casting a vote for the kind of world you want. Anna Lappe, O Magazine, June 2003

Have you ever heard Charles Dickens' aphorism, "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery."

Pithy.  Earn money.  Spend less than we earn.  I couldn't agree more.

But there's so much more to be said about money.

Like 'annual expenditure nineteen nineteen and six' -- on what?  And why?

In other words, once we've exceeded this basic hurdle of money management (spending less than we earn), then what?

For instance, how do we spend our money?  Doesn't how we spend mirror how we see the world, reflecting back to us if there's a place for our dream?

Source:  istockphoto

For example, when we spend money to house, feed, clothe, educate -- and play with -- our children, aren't we making a down payment on their happiness, their 'who they are', and on a close-knit family? 

What about money spent on savings and investment?  Maybe we are spending now so we can feel secure in the event of a rainy day.  Perhaps we want a world in which our children go to college.  And maybe we want the financial wherewithal to give back.

As we participate in philanthropic pursuits, like the Snow Leopard Trust as my daughter does, aren't we casting a vote for a world where we take care of our own, even as everyone is our own?  If we tithe, are we not spending for a world where God matters? 

There are so many great ways to spend our money, but I do wonder Is there any room in our budget, any money at all, for a world in which our dream has a place?

Perhaps, we feel we don't have the money (or time, or permission) to put toward our dream.  Happily, Psyche didn't need to shear the rams and then obtain all of their fleece, she needed a just bit of fleece that the ram's had perchance rubbed off on the brambles in order to complete her hero's journey.

Just a little bit of fleece, a little bit of time, a little bit of money, to make a down payment on our dream.

If you do a quick rundown of what you spend each month, how much do you spend on your children's dreams?  Or your dreams for your children and/or spouse?  Friends?  The world?  Yours?

What else can Psyche's journey teach us about making a down payment on our dreams?

How can we harness Charles Dickens' advice on behalf of following the advice of Anna Lappe?

P.S. Matt Langdon over at The Hero Workshop forwarded this article Look at yourself before it's too late to change -- a good, quick read.

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Systergy in St. Louis
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Of Corvettes and Porsches

Exploring possibilities and presidential politics

On Saturday evening, my 11 year-old David announced, I think I'll watch the presidential debates.

You will?

My husband and I have talked about the upcoming election intermittently (upon telling our 7 year-old the basics of the democratic and republican platforms, she's already declared herself an Independent), but presidential politics isn't really part of our family's everyday patter.

Until yesterday.

Perhaps because early Friday morning, with the country astir over the Iowa caucuses, I thought -- wouldn't it be fun to attend a Mitt Romney town hall in advance of the New Hampshire primary, and wouldn't it be fun if David went with me. I'd never been to a political rally, neither had he, why not make this whole presidential campaign more tangible?

Photo courtesy of Emily Anthon

David was immediately 'in', so I called my friend Emily who is having the exhilarating experience of working on Mitt Romney's campaign (every presidential campaign is no doubt thrilling -- talk about some genuine head-butting); I asked Emily where and when and we were off.

So often I imagine doing something, especially something spontaneous, but rarely do I actually do it. I (perhaps you are too) am primed to stop at imagine, whether it's because I don't want to try something I'm not good at. Or in this case, be impractical? After all, why date an idea, if I'm not going to marry it?

So let's look at what happened simply because we went to New Hampshire for a few hours.

1) I practiced moving from imagining to exploring, an important aspect of daring to dream, and, in turn, opened the door to David exploring his possibilities.

2) David not only came along, and is more interested in debate than ever, he has a picture of himself with a presidential candidate: images can wield a powerful effect, positively or negatively, else the advertising industry would be out of business. David also tells me this photo will garner some oohs and aahs from his surprisingly (because we live in MA) conservative 5th grade classmates.

Photo courtesy of Emily Anthon -- I tried to take a decent picture, which is why they are looking at me, Emily gratefully got the shot

3) Presidential politics is now more real to us. David wanted to watch the debates, and when we wouldn't let him stay up to watch the democratic debate, thanks to Tivo, he watched it this morning.

Will this experience be pivotal for either of us?

Odds are no.

But isn't it true that the more we explore our possibilities, the more possibilities there are.

When have you recently listened to your gut, and not only imagined, but also explored?

Have you gone back and done a what if I hadn't, considering how your future changed because you explored?

P.S. There's a fun entry written by Elizabeth Williams sharing her experience of attending the democratic Iowa caucus. It just makes it all so more real, doesn't it? She's got great jewelry too.

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Doorsteps, doors and dreams

"You're leaving again Mom. You're never here," said my 11 year-old David, as I was walking out the door to the March of Dimes benefit that my friend Jane was emceeing.

My hair was done, make-up on, clothing donned, but I asked anyway:

"Do you want me to stay David?"

"You won't Mom, so I won't ask."

"Are you sure?"

"Go mom."

I got in the car, immediately called my husband who supplied characteristically good advice, "Trust your gut", I turned the car around.

Walking in the door, changing into my pajamas, watching TV together, having David know that I'd put him first, and MY knowing that I'd put him first....

Lovely Jane understood.

***

Several weeks later, one of my mentors encouraged me to bring my children along as I 'dare to dream' and 'know my neighbor', or as my children call it 'dare to know your neighbor.' Because he gave me several pieces of advice, many of which I quite preferred, 'bring your children along', was noted, and forgotten.

Until one of my girlfriends gave me the same advice.

Three times in three weeks. Three different people.

Hmmm.

Is it possible that even as I attend to my children's emotional well-being at a basic level (probably better than basic), I'm excluding them from a large piece of myself, and in effect, leaving them on the doorstep of my dreams?

Courtesy of Tomaz Levstek via iStockphoto

Were I to include them more -- what would happen?

It had crossed my mind to take David to the March of Dimes benefit. Too young. He won't want to go. Too much work for me. And 11 is probably too young. But next year?

When I asked him if he would come to something like this, his answer was yes.

By taking David, we'd spend time together, I'd get to see him in a tuxedo AND we could support both Jane and The March of Dimes.

Opening the door to our children's dreams, even as we open the door to ours.

An elegant, both/and solution; Psyche would no doubt be approve.

***

As we involve and engage our children in the dreaming process, they will definitely learn from us (some good, some bad), but what can we learn from them? How do their strengths help us?

What can we learn from Susan Minot's Evening about including our children?

When have you involved your children in your dream, whether planning or executing, or both?

How did you feel? How did they?

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Enough

Dreaming or deflecting?

Why, oh why, do I put my ideas in writing?

Well, I know why.

Because, among other things, going 'on record' pushes me to 'walk my talk'.

It is ironic, though, that not less than twenty-four hours after writing Asking for what we want, I read Matt Langdon's post in which he outlined his Hero Workshop accomplishments for 2007 and goals for 2008 (you can either squint or click on the graphic).

My immediate thought was "Good for you Matt". You've set concrete, achievable goals for yourself, goals that will make the world a better place. You've achieved them, and now you are setting more goals.

I considered following Matt's lead and putting my goals for 'dare to dream' on this blog, but immediately quailed. The mere thought of doing what Matt had done made me feel uncomfortable, awkward, embarrassed -- did I say uncomfortable?

Which led me to wonder -- what is GOING on?

Why am I having a such a visceral reaction?

Here's what I've come up with thus far, though more questions, than answers:

1) When we list our accomplishments publicly, aren't we making the decision to acknowledge ourselves, to accept, rather than shun praise?

2) When we state our goals, are we not implicitly, if not explicitly, asking for support?

3) When men 'list and state', how do they feel? How do we respond?

4) What about women? How do we feel? And do we respond as I did to Matt, thinking "Atta boy or girl"? Or do we instead think -- 'she's a bit full of herself, now isn't she?'

I'll confess that even amongst my closest friends it's painful to say 'Look what I did," and so I don't very often. In fact, if you want to see just how masterful most women have become at deflecting (a signal at just how painful the praise is), the next time you are talking with a group of your girlfriends -- ask them to talk about something they (not their husband or children) have done well this past year.

That's right - we probably won't; we will quickly and deftly re-direct the conversation far, far away from us.

The ideal of a feminine woman seems pretty hard-wired.

Does it feel this way to you also?

If this is true, then aren't we in a bit of a double bind?

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