Ritual Is Routine Made Sacred


Daily Rituals How Artists Work

Think about daily habits. Walking the dog, sipping a morning cup of coffee, mad-dashing it to the car with keys and bag, savoring an evening glass of wine, bedtime story reading with the second grader, whispering in noontime prayer, breathing in five minutes of meditation, sweatily running around the neighborhood. Some habits get us to the next part of the day, some are not so much habits as zombie routines, some are those we look forward to, and some, if not performed, make the whole day feel weird and uninspired.

Right before the dawn of 2014, a friend of mine sent me a link to an article with a quick note saying that he thought I might enjoy reading it and that it might help with my then-flu-like-case-of-procrastination. The article, from Forbes, reviewed the book Daily Rituals by Mason Currey, but mostly highlighted the wildly varying routines of highly productive people. I read the article, took a couple of the suggestions, and got out of my procrastination funk. I forgot about the book, though.

A few months later, in happy coincidence, I ran across the book at my public library. The cover and title first caught my eye and then I sat down to read it in the lobby near the children’s section. It was a few pages in before I made the connection between this book and the Forbes article. The book, as the author Currey notes in his introduction, started as a fit of procrastination while he was trying to finish writing an article with a deadline breathing down his neck. Murray started a blog that afternoon in 2007 and it came together in a book, published in 2013. While the blog superficially looked at the habits of writers, artists, thinkers, and musicians, the book is “a vastly expanded and better researched collection.” The charm of the book is that he lets the subjects “speak for themselves.” It is a well-packed and eye-opening glimpse into the habits of people who are responsible for much of our society’s art, science, music, entertainment, and thought, if we could see them alone and behind-the-scenes.

I have always found things behind-the-scenes fascinating, whether it’s the break room of a busy office, the storage room of a restaurant, or the stock room of a grocery store. I remember using the restroom as a toddler at our neighborhood supermarket, and it wasn’t the clean and well-lit public restroom I am used to now. My mother and I ventured back into the dark and cavernous (at least in my memory) rear of the store, past monoliths of boxes, past honking fork lifts to a tiny and dreary bathroom. Once we had fulfilled the mission of our back room adventures, I wanted to stay and watch the hidden work. It was an endlessly fascinating and unfamiliar contrast to the flourescent-lit-muzak-playing grocery store I knew so well from toddling along on my mother’s errands.

People’s jobs and how they do them intrigue me. What does their day look like? How are the minutes and hours whiled away in tasks and projects? Career days at school, where friends’ parents would come to class and talk about their jobs, were always my favorite. Books and plays and shows that explore the workplace are the ones that seem truest to me. For a couple of years, I dated a software engineer and he talked of writing code. All I could picture was him sitting in front of five computer screens with gobbledygook streaming across the monitors and that image is still in my mind when we meet up for an occasional meal. For people who work alone at home, I can imagine lots of breaks, time in sweats on the couch, and then a mad flurry to meet a deadline. Perhaps, that is the way I would work and why a full-time career at home is not recommended for me.

As I try to write more, feverishly finish a blog post, tackle completing a book of short stories, ruminate over journal entries, and nervously send articles to editors, I think of my routines and squeezing in writing time with my own full-time job as an educator. I envy those who seem to have large pockets of time. I realize, though, time is what you make it. The book highlights that very idea and it is a wonderfully quaint and curious look into the lives and routines of creative geniuses.

Did they need routine? Did they need lots of time? Was there superstition involved? How did they spend the day? What did they think of their routines and rituals? Did they need variety? This book looks at 161 writers, artists, musicians, thinkers, politicians, scientists, and other creative types. My only critique of the book is that there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the order. It’s not alphabetical, it’s not in order by birth date, it’s not arranged by creative categories. There is a long, seemingly random table of contents, but it was also fun to hop around finding my favorites and discovering interesting routines of people of whom I had never heard.

Here are a few of the people who inspire me who were included in the book. I like surrounding myself with the books and music and artwork of these creative beings and I love knowing some of the secrets behind their work.

Maya Angelou – The writer, who recently passed away, could not work at home. She said, “I try to keep home very pretty, and I can’t work in a pretty surrounding. It throws me.” She rose early and had coffee with her husband. He left for work, she left for the motel room she kept as her office. She arrived by 7 am and left by 2 pm, unless work was going badly, then she left by 12:30 pm. The room was stark and she stocked it with four primary items: a dictionary, a Bible, a bottle of sherry, and a deck of cards. After working, she arrived home and read over what she’d written and then put it out of her mind. She went about her home routines, enjoying dinner with her husband. Occasionally, after dinner she read her work to her husband, but she only accepted comments from her editor. Reading her words aloud helped her find the parts that needed improvement, which she would then work on the next day. Angelou was highly prolific and produced books, plays, poetry, movie and TV scripts, and sometimes she had inexplicable physical symptoms from her work: back troubles, eyes swollen shut, and knee injuries.

Issac Asimov - The writer known for science fiction wrote hundreds of books and included religion and science as his subjects. He referred to his hours as “candy store hours.” Growing up in Brooklyn, his father had a series of candy stores, open 7 am to 1 pm, seven days a week. As a writer, Asimov woke early and worked “as long as I can” and even worked while on vacation or in the hospital. He wrote that “there were certain advantages offered by the candy store that had nothing to do with mere survival, but, rather, with overflowing happiness, and that this was so associated with the long hours as to make them sweet to me and to fix them upon me for all my life.”

Jane Austen - The author of Emma and Pride and Prejudice, Austen was particularly productive in the last eight years of her life. She finally had a steady home, instead of constantly visiting and staying with relatives. She rose early, played piano, was responsible for making breakfast, and then spent the morning and early afternoon writing. She constantly hid her writing from everyone, but her immediate family, including household guests and servants. Disruptions and company meant hiding away her writing. In the evenings, she read aloud her writing to her family.

Ludwig van Beethoven – He rose early and drank coffee, which he prepared for himself meticulously with 60 beans per cup. He worked at his desk until two or three in the afternoon and then had a large midday meal. Afternoons and evenings he took walks, bringing along a pencil and music paper. He would stop and read the papers at a pub, sometimes drink beer or wine, and went to bed by 10 pm. His bathing habits were as unique and beautiful as his music; he poured pitchers of water over his hands while singing scales, not noticing copious amounts of water on the floor, and continued this routine almost daily.

Agatha Christie – The maven of mystery and author of 91 books, numerous plays, and other works, never had a writing room or desk. She said her needs for writing were small, “All I needed was a steady table and typewriter.” She wrote in “spells and bursts” while most of her time was spent in “ordinary living,” but when there were no interruptions, she could close herself up in a room and write for hours.

Benjamin Franklin – The renaissance politician outlined a routine for “moral perfection.” He focused on one aspect a week, figuring that was enough time to create a habit. Over time, he repeated his course, until he only needed the thirteen-week routine just once a year. He even outlined an ideal schedule for the day, but he wasn’t always able to follow that due to his busy print shop and work in polotocs. The one habit he struggled with throughout his life, though, was messiness and disorganization. He later discovered his favorite ritual, an “air bath” in cold air. While bathing at the time was common in cold water, Franklin thought it was too much of a shock to the system.

Maira Kalman – An artist, illustrator, and writer of mostly children’s books, she rises at six, makes the bed, and reads the obituaries. Her studio is in the same building as her apartment, and there are no distractions like food, phone, or e-mail. She does, though, have a green chaise for napping. She might go for a walk in Central Park or to a cafe, but she always finishes in her studio no later than 6 pm. When she is not working on a project, and when there is no deadline, there can be days or weeks when she never enters her studio.

Georgia O’Keefe - The painter, known for her paintings of the New Mexico desert, woke up early, made tea, built a fire, and sat in bed to watch the sunrise. She enjoyed the solitude and said, “My pleasant disposition likes the world with nobody in it.” After breakfast, on painting days, she went to her studio to paint to all day with a break for lunch. On other days, she gardened, answered letters, did housework, and received company. She ate an early dinner, around 4:30 pm, so that she had the evenings to take a drive in the landscape she loved best.

Charles Schulz – For 50 years, the creator of the beloved Peanuts did all of his own writing and drawing for the comic strip. He created a routine that helped with the daily demand of work and also helped with his chronic anxiety, working five days a week for seven hours a day. In the mornings he showered, ate breakfast, and took his kids and the neighborhood kids to school. He then began each work day by doodling with a pencil and just letting his mind wander. Once he had an idea, he went with it, drawing and writing quickly before he lost his inspiration. He ate lunch in his studio, often a ham sandwich and a glass of milk. He stayed working in his studio until 4 pm when his kids came home.

What do we do with the knowledge of these routines? How can that help us in our own creativity? What does it tell us about genius, talent, and effort? If nothing else, I take comfort in knowing that even the geniuses struggled. I like knowing that I am not the only one privy to bouts of procrastination. We can stop, take a pause, and find the sacredness in our routines. We can use the rituals to frame our lives, our creativity, our love, our service. We can find inspiration in the ordinary, in the small.

Whether it’s Asimov’s “candy store hours,” Kalman’s green chaise for napping in her studio, Beethoven’s sloshing of water while singing scales, Schulz’s regular office hours scheduled around his kids’ routines, Franklin’s air baths, Christie’s lack of need for an office, Angelou’s sparse motel room, Austen hiding her writing from all but her immediate family, and O’Keefe’s early mornings in bed to watch the sun rise, we can see beauty in their inspiration, in their work, in their routines.

We see the sacred, the creativity.

Thanks, Birth Control!


More than 99%It’s the second annual “Thanks, Birth Control!” Day and I am celebrating! I am grateful for birth control for many reasons, for my own life and for others. I am grateful that people can plan when they will have children. I am grateful that I can teach all day and then send those cute little kids home to their families. I am grateful that there are so many more methods that are affordable and accessible. Birth control is not a bad word, it’s a wonderful option!

The good folks at Bedsider.org created these wonderful images to share and I am doing as they asked. It was hard to pick one, so I am sharing my four favorites! In addition to the fun social media campaign for today, they have great information for women and men about different methods of birth control, lots of articles, and numerous other resources on this and related topics.

Affordable accessible Big Deal 9MonthsAwesome

We Voted


We-Voted-1024x767(pp_w670_h501)A week ago was Election Day in the United States. Today is Veterans’ Day, or Remembrance Day.

What does it mean to participate in democracy, a republic? What does it mean to serve in the armed services? What does it mean to be a voter, a veteran? Broad questions can bring very specific answers. I have dear friends who are veterans or current service members and dear friends who have lived and loved while their service member was deployed far away. I cannot begin to imagine that depth of commitment and I do not want to diminish those who can and do live at that level by trying to write of that experience.

I do vote, though, and I see how these are tied together. What do we vote for? Why do we vote? Who voted? Who didn’t vote? What does it mean? It seems that Veterans’ Day serves as a good day for that reflection.

According to the Washington Post, it is estimated that just 36.4 percent of eligible voters cast ballots last week. While midterm election voting rates tend to be lower than in presidential election years, that is the lowest turnout since World War II. What does it mean in 2014 when political spending is at an all time high and the election cycle seems to be ongoing? For something that seems to be so casual a choice, it helps to think of the significance. Approximately 82,500,000 people voted. We voted.

We vote.

We vote to participate.

We vote because we argue.

We vote because we roll our eyes.

We vote because we switch off the car radio at the beginning of the next negative political ad.

We vote because we attend meetings.

We vote because we post our political beliefs on our social media accounts.

We vote because we shy away from political discussions with coworkers.

We vote because we eagerly sip coffee and tea with our political friends, those who agree with us.

We vote because we idealize the action.

We vote for debate, for discussion.

We vote because we remember our school book history lessons of the wars and movements to get the right to vote.

We vote because we registered to do so.

We vote because we researched political candidates.

We vote for the first time.

We vote for history.

We vote for our children.

We vote for the generations before us.

We vote for the generations after us.

We vote for those who do not.

We vote because we cannot imagine doing anything else.

We vote for partisanship.

We vote for the status quo.

We vote for change.

We vote for satisfaction.

We vote for dissatisfaction.

We vote on local ballot issues that get less attention, but arguably have a bigger role in our lives than federal law.

We vote out of fear.

We vote for pride.

We vote for love.

We vote out of a sense of duty.

We vote as the first generation.

We vote for tradition.

We vote because it is what we have.

We vote for belief.

We vote to put a stop to the argument in our minds.

We vote for peace.

We vote for war.

We vote for an idealism we no longer possess.

We vote for an idealism we will never lose.

We vote because it gives us voice.

We vote for optimism.

We vote for pessimism.

We vote for belief in a system.

We vote even when we do not know.

We vote for gratitude.

We vote for the blood, the battles to get the vote.

We vote for candidates who seem better than most.

We vote for candidates who seem to be the lesser of the evils.

We vote for taxes.

We vote for no taxes.

We vote to solve problems.

We vote for our divided country.

We vote for others.

We vote for us.

We vote to send a message.

We vote as one in millions.

We vote for our neighbors.

We vote against our neighbors.

We vote for friends.

We vote for strangers.

We vote so that we can complain.

We vote so that we can brag.

We vote for the past, the present, the future.

We vote for special causes and concerns.

We vote because we could never imagine running as a candidate.

We vote because one day we will run for office.

We vote to be better.

We vote for this instrument of participation.

We vote because we do not run a political action committee.

We vote along party lines.

We vote for a broad range of parties and issues.

We vote because it is complicated.

We vote because it is simple.

We vote for new.

We vote for old.

We vote for all.

We vote because we remember when a nation stood still waiting for the decision to be made.

We vote to break a tie.

We vote for a clear victory.

We vote for a decisive loss.

We vote so that we don’t give up.

We vote so others won’t give up on us.

We vote for community, for country.

We vote because we try and we try again.

We vote for many reasons, gathered up in our hearts and minds.

We vote.

Quote

A quote from Mark Twain


“Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that makes you smile. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”–Mark Twain

Stomach Full of Butterflies


Image courtesy of Gregory Phillips, http://en.wikipedia.or/wiki/File:Blue_morpho_butterfly.jpg. Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts. GNU Free Documentation License.

Image courtesy of Gregory Phillips, http://en.wikipedia.or/wiki/File:Blue_morpho_butterfly.jpg. Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts. GNU Free Documentation License.

Butterflies in the stomach. That feeling you get when you are nervous, or perhaps filled with trepidation. I tend to get them a lot and I used to dread the feeling, thus making the sensation all the more intense. It has been in the last two years or so, that I am starting to think about these butterflies in a different way. Instead of thinking about them in a negative way, I welcome them. I know that I care deeply. Deep breathing, jumping up and down, looking at someone I love, or closing my eyes and thinking of a favorite memory helps to calm the butterflies. In that moment, I try to let the butterflies free.

What gives you butterflies? How do you know when you care deeply? What helps you to let butterflies fly?

Here are some things that give me butterflies:

Entering a mini-triathlon at the beginning of the summer.

Admitting that I wanted to write a book.

Taking the summer off to write short stories to fulfill that dream of a book.

Giving my heart to someone and admitting I love them.

Teaching, I have been doing it for 10 years, I think I am good at it, and I get butterflies. Every. Single. Time.

Running a race, no matter how small and low my expectations are.

Sending a dear friend a draft of a story for critique and feedback. I just returned from the post office and I’m still full of butterflies as I type this.

Swimming the first lap, as it is a new endeavor for me, until I relax into the second and third laps and beyond.

Realizing that a half marathon I registered for is less than two months away and the training is going well.

Sending a text and waiting for a response.

Applying for a dream job.

Helping a stranger pick up their dropped items.

Going to a party or dance alone.

Making a list of things I am looking forward to this fall.

Being unsure of a big decision.

Knowing that I am not playing fair.

Writing this blog entry.

Going back to work in a few days.

Moving in with my sister again.

Admitting that I am wrong.

Apologizing with the intent to make true amends.

Worrying about not being able to measure up to a task.

Saying yes.

Saying no.

Admitting fragility or sensitivity.

Providing emotional support for someone else.

Failing to come through on a promise.

Caring deeply.

Taking action.

Sometimes the butterflies remain. Sometimes they fly free. They tell me that I am living. Their presence lets me know that I care about myself, others, and the world. Their presence tells me that I have my heart in the right place. The butterflies tell me that I have something to look forward to, and something to do.They remind me of passion and participating fully in the world.

Welcome the butterflies. Set them free when you let yourself free into the world.

 

The Moment When . . .


By siegertmarc (The right moment  Uploaded by MaybeMaybeMaybe) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Image Courtesy: By siegertmarc (The right moment Uploaded by MaybeMaybeMaybe) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons]

“Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.” –Omar Khayyam

Sometimes we experience time warps. Moments can feel like millennia. Seconds can fill days. Days fly by in blurs. Moments are beginnings and endings. Life is lived in those moments. What are some of those moments for you?

The moment when . . .

You look across the room to see the person you love staring at you.

The words you said hang in the air and you cannot take them back.

You did not get to say the thing that is impressed upon your heart.

The event you have been looking forward to finally takes place.

You look in the mirror and see your well-worn and well-loved spirit in your reflection.

Lunch cannot come soon enough.

It is time to fly to new opportunities and new settings.

It is time to sit back and reflect.

That feeling of dread hits you in the stomach like a brick.

You feel relief when someone comes forward to share the burden.

You take a big gasp of air, breathless from laughing.

You pause and walk away, grateful for the foresight to do so.

Your hands are covered in dirt and you are as happy as you have ever been.

They step off the train.

Strangers become friends.

Friends become strangers.

The sun sinks into the horizon.

The clap of thunder startles you.

Your head hits the pillow.

You pull off your hiking boots and socks after a long hike.

You send a loved one off to war.

You put the letter in the mail.

You pick up the phone to answer.

Your heart breaks.

Your heart becomes whole.

All of your effort and hope is not enough.

You smile at a stranger.

You bask in sunlight.

You feel your wisdom, only to rebound into foolishness.

You make a friend who will be there throughout life.

You realize love is all there is.

You let go of ego.

There seems to be no hope.

You are healed and new, broken and old.

Everything you thought you knew is no longer so.

You doubt your strength.

You help someone else.

You sink into a deep sleep.

You wake refreshed and ready.

You swat at a fly.

You hear the song that makes you remember.

You let go and dance.

You are surprised.

You say yes.

You ask the big question.

You are brave.

You stand up for someone.

You begin again.

You take a different path.

You know that some advice is given by the ones who need it most.

You realize intention and actualization are different.

You realize that some lessons are difficult to learn.

You discover someone else is fragile.

You stop trying and start being.

You realize that life is a big and beautiful mess.