Can I have your attention?

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” Simone Weil

. . . 

Each year at this time there is usually one commencement address that stands out among the others. This year, for me, it was Jonathan Safran Foer's Middlebury College address. You can watch the address here or read portions of it in the NY Times op-ed piece. The part that struck me most was about attention. Listen to this excerpt. 

Everyone wants his parent’s, or friend’s, or partner’s undivided attention — even if many of us, especially children, are getting used to far less. Simone Weil wrote, “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” By this definition, our relationships to the world, and to one another, and to ourselves, are becoming increasingly miserly.

Most of our communication technologies began as diminished substitutes for an impossible activity. We couldn’t always see one another face to face, so the telephone made it possible to keep in touch at a distance. One is not always home, so the answering machine made a kind of interaction possible without the person being near his phone. Online communication originated as a substitute for telephonic communication, which was considered, for whatever reasons, too burdensome or inconvenient. And then texting, which facilitated yet faster, and more mobile, messaging. These inventions were not created to be improvements upon face-to-face communication, but a declension of acceptable, if diminished, substitutes for it.

But then a funny thing happened: we began to prefer the diminished substitutes. It’s easier to make a phone call than to schlep to see someone in person. Leaving a message on someone’s machine is easier than having a phone conversation — you can say what you need to say without a response; hard news is easier to leave; it’s easier to check in without becoming entangled. So we began calling when we knew no one would pick up.

Shooting off an e-mail is easier, still, because one can hide behind the absence of vocal inflection, and of course there’s no chance of accidentally catching someone. And texting is even easier, as the expectation for articulateness is further reduced, and another shell is offered to hide in. Each step “forward” has made it easier, just a little, to avoid the emotional work of being present, to convey information rather than humanity.

THE problem with accepting — with preferring — diminished substitutes is that over time, we, too, become diminished substitutes. People who become used to saying little become used to feeling little.

. . .

It's really heavy, right? Even if it's not you who are guilty of preferring diminished substitutes and giving real interactions less attention, it's our society, it's the world our children are walking into and the energy we are steeped in everyday. I think about how many times I have said, "just a minute" to my girls as I have replied to a text, typed off a quick email, or composed a caption for a picture. I am pretty conscious about putting the phone away to focus and engage, but I am a work from home mom, with kids at home a lot, and the balance of the two is extremely difficult to find. And in a hurried world where texting or communicating in the comments of a public forum are becoming the norm, it's hard not to play along. 

So how do we move ahead in a world that's connecting us together but is also pulling us apart? 

I think it has to be about balance and about valuing personal interaction. It has to be about taking the extra step to think, say, converse, and feel. We need to give attention and teach attention. We need to hold tight to our emotionality, bearing unscripted interactions that have the power to unhinge us, but also bring about moments of clarity and richness that only face to face communication can do. It's about standing guard over our time, over chance encounters, and unhurried conversations with friends or strangers. It's about paying attention. Really deeply paying attention.

Foer ends with this, "We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes. Being attentive to the needs of others might not be the point of life, but it is the work of life. It can be messy, and painful, and almost impossibly difficult. But it is not something we give. It is what we get in exchange for having to die."

I'd love to know what you think. xx

Tell your story

It's 7:01 pm. My meeting started one minute ago. Our topic tonight is, Documenting our Legacy. I'm not ready and still not sure if I'm going to go. I am heavy on the bed listening to cnn for the first time all day. I needed a break. I hear Anderson Cooper say, "Next, a family who lost their little girl in the tornado, they want to tell her story, they want you to know who she was." I took that as a sign. I showered and drove to my meeting. 

“Above all else, it is about leaving a mark that I existed: I was here. I was hungry. I was defeated. I was happy. I was sad. I was in love. I was afraid. I was hopeful. I had an idea and I had a good purpose and that's why I made works of art. ” Felix Gonzales-Torres. Years ago I read that quote, it put words to a feeling that I'd had for a long time.

We exist. We have a story. Life is about figuring out how we tell it.

Everyday I encounter ordinary people, with ordinary lives. I am one of them. We're all making a living, raising a family, busy, stressed, happy, sad, with wins and losses, going about our days, generally unknown to the larger world. Striking were the times when I was wandering around a country like India or Nepal and I would see people where ordinary means you're one of a billion people, in poverty, with little room for mobility. Looking at yourself in that situation, you may wonder, how do I matter? What am I really leaving behind?

The fact is, we all have a story. And we all have a story that affects someone else. And many times, we don't see it the impact of it. We mistakenly focus on feeling less than, not so special, a small voice in a very big world. We need to try more often to see our impact, cherish our place, direct our story. 

"The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. There will most likely be no ticker-tape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our unique talents. Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have a potential to turn a life around. It’s overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt." Leo Buscaglia

Life's not about being big, it's about being bold, being brave, and being real. It's about believing in our own person, not keeping up with someone else's. It's about touching one person at a time, starting with ourselves. 

We all have a story, and we all impact each other. We tell our story in everything we do. Our life becomes our legacy. 

Do you know you what you want your life to say about you?

clarity

yesterday i was cleaning my studio. i picked up a book by Louise Bourgeois and inside, written on a piece of paper i found this.

we are always waiting for the big event that will change our lives forever. not to make our lives a paradise, but to give us direction, to find our what our mission is, what is worth struggling for.

i made this note ten years ago, it's by Doug Aitken. i have been searching my whole life. it's funny to look back on things i've written ten or even thirteen years ago and think, wow, i was thinking, growing, and searching even back then. it's been a long road. 

i have conversations almost daily with people about living deeply, finding your passion, and taking steps to bring our dreams alive. much of the time it's me talking, because i by no means, have it figured out. i have been working on projects for years that are still not manifested. i am not completely where i want to be with my art. but this year i feel as if i have taken some major steps into action. it's rough, sometimes the path gets obscured, i have moments of doubt and feel like so many people are years ahead of me. but then i remember that it's not a race, it's not a destination. the big event that we are waiting for is simply clarity. clarity to give us direction, to move forward and be inspired. 

What you do best

What do you do best? What skills come easily to you? What do you enjoy?

I recently read an interview with Cheryl Sandberg in the NY Times Book Review. She was asked to recommend the best business book that she's read recently. Here's a bit of what she said.

“Now, Discover Your Strengths,” by Marcus Buckingham and Donald O. Clifton. This book has been instrumental in how we think about developing talent at Facebook. Like all organizations, we have a system for giving feedback to our employees. A few years ago, Lori Goler, Facebook’s head of human resources, brought Marcus to meet with our leadership team to help us improve this system. Marcus and his colleagues surveyed employees for 25 years to figure out what factors predict extraordinary performance. They found that the most important predictor of the success of a company or division was how many people answered yes to the question “Do you have the opportunity to do what you do best every day?” And this makes sense. Most performance reviews focus more on “development areas” (a k a weaknesses) than strengths. People are told to work harder and get better at those areas, but people don’t have to be good at everything. At Facebook, we try to be a strengths-based organization, which means we try to make jobs fit around people rather than make people fit around jobs. We focus on what people’s natural strengths are and spend our management time trying to find ways for them to use those strengths every day.

In addition to this review, I'm also deep into Cheryl Sandberg's book, Lean In. So far I have dogeared or underlined something on nearly every page. Not being in the corporate world, I've thought a lot about the lens through which I am reading the book and how it applies to my life as a work from home woman and a stay-at-home mom.

Do you have the opportunity to do what you do best every day? 

Do you feel the weight of that question? That's one of those questions that makes you feel the power of seizing the moment and moving your world around to make things happen. But it's also a question that makes you think about what your strengths are and if you are owning them. 

Celebrating Mother's Day yesterday was beautiful. The girls showered me with homemade gifts in three languages, breakfast in bed, and a blissful sushi lunch. Then, I cleaned a bit of the house, supervised piano practice, broke up a few arguments, discussed Olivia's upcoming birthday party, and got everything ready for the upcoming week. You know, the typical mom stuff. The point is, we do a lot every day and it isn't always the things that we are best at or most excited to do. But the key is to try and carve out the opportunity to do what we do best everyday and apply our skills to the places that need them. 

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In light of Leaning In, empowering women's voices, and myself, here is what I do best:

• I am organized. I am a great list-maker, I keep track of things that need to be done. 

• I am good at envisioning. I love ideas, the big picture, and thinking about things.

• I am disciplined.

• I am creative and I love to create. 

• I am a good teacher of things. 

• I am great expresser of love. I love life, I love my family, I love people and I express it.

• I am a great debater and discusser of ideas, stories, and topics.

• I create a great space, set a good mood, decorate a beautiful home, and host a good gathering. 

• I am a seer. I see things that are sometimes overlooked. 

• I am a strong researcher and love an assignment.

• I am good at finding someone to do that at which I am not good at doing, but want done now. 

What do you do best? How does expressing your strengths make you feel? Do you have the opportunity to do what you do best every day? It's a great discussion and I would love to hear what you think!

Pieces of life

Do you have pieces of life that you hold on to? Treasured photographs, a corporate name plaque from a former life, a stack of old date books. Last night, a new group of women, many of whom I didn't know very well, got together at my house. As a way of introducing ourselves, we brought personal objects from our lives that tell our stories. One of the things I shared was this green scrap of a sheet from the year I was living in India and volunteering in Calcutta.

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Journal entry, November 2000. 

Nirmal Hriday, Mother Teresa's Home for the Dying Destitute in Calcutta, India. 

Walking into Nirmal Hrdiay each morning sunlight pours through the windows that surround the rooms. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and here it seems so perfect that these beautiful arched windows surround and bathe the women in their light. The day began again with feeding the women breakfast. Most of the communication between us takes place through looks and touch, you realize how little language is needed. After breakfast, we bathed the women and changed the bedding. The shower process is difficult because many of the women cannot walk, so they have to be carried, bathed, dried, clothed, and carried back. Holding a completely malnourished body is a feeling that I will never forget. 

Everything here is done by hand. There are different vats that the laundry goes into, which is stirred with long paddles and then stomped out barefoot. We all hand wring out the laundry and carry it up to the rooftop in baskets where it is laid out to dry. I have had many reflective moments on the rooftop, overlooking Calcutta, but today was the most profound. 

Since arriving, I had formed a bond with the woman in bed number 46. Each day I would feed her, massage her, and just sit with her. Over three weeks she seemed to be getting progressively worse. One morning when I came in, I looked at her and knew that today was the day that she would die. There was a difference in her eyes, in her spirit. When a person is that close to death, a volunteer will sit with them all day. Periodically the patient will look up to see if someone is still there with them. It seems like having someone there with them gives them the comfort and strength to surrender and close their eyes a final time. So I sat with this woman, comforting her and holding the space.

After some time, the head brother came up to me and asked that I go to the roof to help hang sheets because they needed someone who was tall. I really did not want to leave and offered a bit of resistance, but the brother persisted, and so I went. Once on the roof, I found myself surrounded by baskets overflowing with green sheets.  As I began to hang the sheets, I watched my thoughts rise about how I had wanted to come here to Calcutta to see and experience death and now the woman that I had most connected with was dying and I couldn’t be there. I felt as if I was missing a chance to really experience the moment of death. As I hung sheet after sheet, I couldn’t help but feel the wet texture of the sheets between my fingers as I slid them down to the edges, lining them up neatly, taking my time with each sheet. Each sheet is different from the next, a slightly different expression of green with so many subtleties. With each sheet I fell deeper and deeper into a state of relaxation and surrender. I found myself seeing such beauty in the sheets and treating them with the same presence and love that I give each woman. I realized that being here fully, hanging the sheets was the same experience as sitting beside the woman who was dying. I had said yes to what life was giving, I was not resisting it. And in that moment, it was I that was doing the dying. Dying to the need to control or expect life to look a certain way. I learned that by accepting what the moment offers and by trusting, life would guide me through the lessons that I need to learn. My time and presence are the greatest gifts that I can give. And when I approach life from the perspective of what I have to offer versus what I need, only then, am truly alive. 

Do you keep treasured pieces of your life? Are you helping your kids keep them? Do you record the stories they tell?

Focus and depth

As so often happens, I sat down to do some work but just quickly clicked on a link from Bloesem that took me to the beautiful world of Amba Molly. And like that, I was lost. Drawn in by the images, the sculpture, the water, the sounds, and the whole of the exquisite world that was laid out on that table before me.

Ten minutes later, I am here writing about it. 

tick-tock,
tick-tock.

Whenever I am looking at something or spending my time doing something or even deciding if I should do something, I think about what the takeaway is. Because even "just being" has a takeaway you know, it's peace. You feel peaceful, you're centered and present. So, when I run down a rabbit hole online, which I do far too often, I like to take a nugget away with me that I will incorporate into my work or my life. It makes me feel productive and that's what looking at inspiring things are for right, inspiration- to transfer and then translate into something else. 

I recently did an interview over at Blue Locket. One of the questions Nadya asked was, what scares you? I answered that time scares me. Specifically, the shortness of life and the length of things I want to experience. Then I talked about the depth of living. That less measurable dimension that really brings meaning to life. 

she lived deeply, she inhabited her days.

This whole examination here, which is what I aim for in my process of writing, is bringing me to the question of focus. Time is limited, it is out of our control, but focus - where we choose to spend our time, that is completely up to us. In order to live deeply, which is what I am here to do, I must ask, what is the optimum focus that I should have in order to really live my days? 

Looking again at her work, and thinking about what it took to create it, the focus she must have had. She had an idea, she explored it, and then one by one, created each piece. This is depth. She went into the idea, into the work. You can see it and feel it. I think that is what I am aiming for. Whether it's in parenting, within my home, in relationships, in my work, when writing in this space, when thinking, and being, I want depth. I want to scratch beneath the surface, to be thoughtful. I want to think and express and have a conversation about it. I'm realizing that's where my focus needs to lie, on the depth. Not necessarily on just one thing, like painting, because that's unrealistic. But if I focus on going into the ideas that I am exploring in the moment, being present with my kids in the way they want me to be, using my relationships as a mirror to truly see myself, facing the moments of inadequacy in my art, then this is deep living.

Whew, and this is my takeaway from looking at Amba Molly. It's raining here, which is so conducive to thought, don't you think? Do you look for takeaways in places where you spend your time? I'd love to know. 

Have a great week!

16/52

"a portrait of my children's artwork, once a week, every week, in 2013."

This week I watched the Dove's Real Beauty Sketches ad that has been going around. It made me feel something, not sure entirely what, but it did made me think. As one of five sisters and the mother of two young girls, body image and self worth are something I think about often. One of our most memorable and poignant women's group meetings was on body image and the topic seems to come up frequently when I am together with friends. Unsure of my initial reaction, I started to google people's responses to it. Of course, I found many. One that I came across was this response by Jazz Brice on her Tumblr, Jazzy Little Drops. She makes some insightful points and it's worth a read, just as the Dove video is worth a watch. My personal opinion lies somewhere in between.

This morning I woke to Sienna handing me a picture she drew of herself. She was so proud of it, she loved it! And I love that she is still completely free of this issue right now. I want to do my best to ensure that my girls grow up as self-assured, compassionate women, who have an expansive definition of beauty, who whose primary focus is not their body, and who have a self-love and self-worth that no one can ever take away from them. 

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s: "This is me. A happy girl with her cat."

o: It's been a hard week for this little one, sick and a full of tears. "I don't want to make art," followed by a foot stomp.

Last week I loved these three sisters. This looks like a fun bunch and I love their caravan!

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ad and the article. What did you feel after going through both. Thought provoking, right? 

what is left behind

life is heavy.

it is sad,

tragic,

confusing.

and it is short.

too short, and sometimes

just taken away from you.

when watching these tragedies,

it's hard to know what to do,

even what to feel. 

i found this picture yesterday,

a meal shared by friends.

but look at the table.

look at the life stained in. 

look at how many meals and moments have carved themselves into this place.

look at the memories showing through,

the signs of life left behind,

reminding us to live.

this morning i dragged my huge dining room table outside.

i got my belt sander and am taking off the waxed surface. 

this is something that i've been wanting to do for sometime.

but the moment finally struck. the time is now.

this is the gift of images. 

whether it's horrible images that we don't want to see or beautiful ones, 

they sink in. 

they propel change. 

they bring action. 

i don't know what i can do about the greater world around me right now, 

but i do know that i can make my table raw.

i can let it absorb the wine stains, the water spills, the homework indents, the board game impressions, the conversations, the laughs, the struggles, and the precious years that we have together. 

i know that i can get under the surface and let the moments show through

becoming evidence that we lived.

because life is short.

and when it's over, all we have 

is what is left behind.

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how do you deal with tragedy? after seeing so many play out in the media, can you still feel? does it bring about change in your own life? 

(image source)

Are you fully living?

This is a screenshot from a video I shot at the park of Olivia and her best friend. The video is 00:07:37 minutes long and there are three more just like it. In others, the girls twirl up tight on the swings and then spin around in a fit of giggles. They played for over two hours. Most of the time we were the only ones in the park. This sweet moment was 00:05:53 into the film. 

I have watched this video a handful of times now. To be honest, it's pretty meditative and I've been playing it in the background as I work. The girls, their laughter, the creaky sound of the metal swings, their friendship, conversation, and you can almost hear the soft sun shining through. I often wonder how magic happens and how much of the time it doesn't, or it does, but I miss it. What makes some moments come alive, I think about this a lot. I need to. These moments, strung together, are the whole of life. 

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How to live, fully.

• Question life. Questions are catalysts for change. They open up the world, challenge us, make us think and grow. 

• Cause wonder. Create moments of awe. Asking a question causes wonder. So does stargazing or watching kids swing. Try it. 

• Don't answer. Live the questions. Let the answers find you. The asking distills what's important, then the answers rise to the top. Scoop them up.

• Lose your balance. Life is moving, let go and embrace change. Even better, seek it. Nothing makes us feel more alive than a change on the horizon. 

• Stand at the center. At the center of all movement there is stillness. Position yourself there. Chaos is always better from this vantage point. 

• Live in-between. It's called liminality. Let go of your stance, don't get stuck being defined. Open up, embrace not knowing.

• Be patient. Everything ripens in it's own time. Cease the moment, but believe in eternity. 

• Be present. Dive into now. Have a look around.

• Find acceptance. This is really the key to everything in life. To being at peace with yourself, to being present in the moment, you must find this. Dig deep. 

• Practice gratitude. Say thank you, everyday.

Do you have those moments when time melts away and you're perfectly content exactly where you are now? Want to have more of these moments? Me too. Let's figure out how! Share your tips.

Here's to fully living your week. xx

Legacy of Me

Do you think about your legacy? Do you wonder how people perceive you, what they will remember, and what you're leaving behind? This year, my women's group is focused on our personal legacy. We have many different projects planned for documenting our life and creating a memory kit. My paintings, oral stories I tell my children about my life, old pictures of my travels, and my writing are all ways that I currently document, but I've noticed that I rarely step in front of the camera anymore.  

When I look around my house, most of the photos that I hold dear are of my mom and dad when they were younger. I love seeing my parents, as parents, in the years when we had come into their life. Pictures of us together, my family, my history, I value much more than pictures of just me as a child. These pictures place me, I'm part of something larger, a legacy.  

This month, I vowed to be in front of the camera more often. To hand the camera to someone else, to ask the waiter to take a picture, to photograph myself. And I am so happy I did, I love this photo, especially how Sienna is holding me. melt...

Do you get in front of the camera regularly? What about self portraits, do you take them? Are you focused on your legacy? Let's talk.

Enjoy the weekend! xx

Thoughts on solitude

it's still spring break. 
my husband is still gone.
my kids are still here.
i haven't been alone in fourteen days*

for many people, so many mother's I talk to, they are rarely alone. i try to be. i need to be, i always have.

do you know what the number one creativity habit is? 
solitude. 

Reading around online over the last few days, there seems to be discontentment. I guess it's always been there, underneath, but then one person voices it, then another, and it's out there. Maybe it's the astrological time of the year. A friend just sent that to me last night. I've never really been into the astrological world, but hey, I'm all for letting go, clearing out, and starting new. But truthfully, I think discontentment has to do with a lack solitude. 

As I fell asleep last night I was thinking about the fact that when I grew up there was no internet. When I was in college, there were no blogs. In my early twenties, the way I developed my sense of self was through myself. Of course there were my peers, magazines to look at, and friends of friends with dreamy lives, but reality tv had not begun and the at your fingertips, voyeuristic, comparison culture was not yet prevalent. The world is so different. The fact that we don't have to wonder about anything for even one minute, because we can google it, blows my mind. That alone is life altering. 

Solitude is something that doesn't seem to get put high on the to-do list. Not only is it undervalued, I feel like we literally run from it. We fill the space with things, activities, and other people. And you know what that brings, discontentment. 

“One can be instructed in society, one is inspired only in solitude.” Goethe

This quote by Goethe is very close to a personal motto that I try to live by. Look to others for inspiration, but not for comparison. When I keep my gaze focused inward, I am happiest. My drive to create and to live comes from inside, it is not fueled by an exterior force, like trying to keep up with someone, trying to  have a life as seemingly perfect as a picture. Of course there are moments when I get lost. I become outwardly focused and soon after discontentment ensues. I know this process. I saw a quote recently, I hung it up.  

Living well is the best revenge. 

The ultimate in outward focus, right? It is still hanging in my studio. It has been driving me. But I know ultimately, it won't take me far. I am not to the discontented state yet, but I will be. I could stop and refocus inwardly, but truthfully, I am not ready yet. I haven't fully played it out, this envy, irritation, I am holding in my mind. As unenlightened as it may sound, it's my process. And I need and want to go through it. And I will. When I have enough solitude to create from this place, then I'll make one move that will turn everything around. When I inspire myself. When I again become the source of my creating. 

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Solitude is being alone.
Solitude is thinking for yourself.
Solitude is formulating ideas.
Solitude is wondering.
Solitude is space.
Solitude is finding your own voice.
Solitude is the place you return to when you get stirred up, lose your voice, or are feeling bad about yourself.
Solitude is where you find focus.
Solitude is where you process.
Solitude is where you move through the dark.
Solitude is where real creativity lives. 
Solitude is where love comes from. If you're ever frustrated with your kids or spouse, go be alone. When you've taken a step into yourself, you can give again.
Solitude is engagement with yourself.
Solitude is reflection. Reflection on the kind of person you are, the kind of life you want to lead. 
Solitude is not accomplishing. But it is essential in the process of accomplishment. 

My five quick ways I get a solitude fix:
1. Take a walk.
2. Paint.
3. Drive.
4. Lay on my bed and look at the sky.
5. Sit on the porch and listen to music while watching the wind.

* Note. I actually have been alone over spring break. My solitude comes at night when everyone is sleeping. The problem is that I'm up too late and not sleeping. Thus I am pretty out of balance at the moment, and a bit cranky, forgive. 

Can you relate?

mar + tierra

On matters of style, swim with the current. On matters of principle, stand like a rock. Thomas Jefferson