Friday, February 10, 2012

To the point of tears

My One Word for 2012 is CREATE.

Hence, this quote:

"Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears." ~ Albert Camus


Men must live. No argument here. We come into this world not of our own volition. But with a will to live that is innate and strong.

Men must create. The premise is we are all born with a creative drive. With a desire to make something of ourselves, of our lives. With our hands, or our imagination. Or our DNA. To make something out of steel, or wood or words. Or fabric or ice. To build a car, make a home, write a novel, start a company, set a record, or bake cupcakes that look like owls. What? I've made those.


Image from Harbin Ice & Snow Festival in China


God is a creative being and we are made in His image, so I can accept that premise. We must live and create, yes.

"Live to the point of tears," says Albert next. Whoa. The two sentences he has linked together here captures me today. Plus, he went all "brainy quote" on us with this part.

If you've ever studied Aristotle's notion of the enthymeme (I realize that's probably only .02% of you) you know that syllogistic arguments lay out all of their premises and the conclusion explicitly. (Stay with me here and you will learn something they teach in grad school. You'll feel so smart!) But ethymeme arguments leave at least one premise or the conclusion unsaid. Generally the assertion left unsaid is intended to be so obvious as to not need stating. But sometimes it's worth stating it.

Albert left his conclusion unsaid. Let me show you the enthymeme in Albert's quote.

Premise one: Men must live.

Premise two: Men must create.

Stated Conclusion: Live to the point of tears. (in other words, live all in - even when it gets hard ... because you must)

Unstated Conclusion: Create to the point of tears.

So the second youngest recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature gives us this message: Create all in. 

Do your work, or your craft all in. Don't hold back. Don't quit. Stay in it to the point of tears. Stay in even when it gets hard or exhausting. Even when you can't seem to produce what is in your mind's eye, stay at it.

Keep creating. Because you must -- it's in you.

I needed to hear that today. I'm at the difficult part of a huge creative project. This is the "to the point of tears" stage. But I'm staying all in and excited to see what will eventually come out of it.  

What are you currently creating? Are you all in? To the point of tears?

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Chasing the Muse

Some seasons of my life are fast-paced, bustling, and packed with people and activities. There are times when I'm juggling multiple projects, and/or jumping planes every couple weekends to go somewhere and speak. And I like it that way.

If you peered onto my official personality profile you'd see it says I work best when I have (among other things):
 
  • A lot of interaction with people.
  • Freedom from routine.
  • Opportunities to meet new people and make friends.
  • A fast pace with a lot of variety.
  • New environments in which to work and/or play.


Even so, sometimes during my bustling seasons I long for an extended block of time to pull in and fully focus on just one thing. To settle down single-minded and delve deep into something. This month I get that chance.

My February calender is nearly clear this month, except for the course I'm teaching at the university and just a few social dates I've made with friends. My calender is cleared but it's far from empty. 

I'm writing a book.

That means this season is rich and full of ideas and words. My days are spent chasing thoughts and studying scriptures. Trying to nail concepts down with letters. It is hard work, much harder than one would think. Much harder than even I expect.

Some days it's slow and plodding work as I struggle to grasp the tiger by the tail. Other days fly by in a flash with a gasp of motivated longing for more time to do this gloriously creative task. 

When the plodding days come I tend to analyze what made the flying days fly, and I try to recreate that. Fix the same drink. Return to the same coffee shop. Put on the same music.

Ah, but it can never be recreated. It can only be called. Even then, it doesn't always come.

She's fickle that way, my muse.

Nonetheless, to chase her is a noble endeavor. And I'm grateful for this extended opportunity to do it. Even if it does leave me feverish, with little time to cook. What are you working on at the present?

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Uncommon Life

We've been talking here lately about "feeling a little off," feeling like something is missing.  About striving to create a life for ourselves, only to find the outcome - not to mention the process - just isn't as satisfying as expecteded.

Don't 'cha hate it when that happens? 

Me too. That means we have to go back to the drawing board and rethink our answer to the question, "How can I find contentment, satisfation or joy?"



Max Lucado writes in The Cure for the Common Life, "God grants us an uncommon life to the degree we surrender our common one."

And I write in It's No Secret, "When I stop striving to create a life for myself, I find the life God creates for me."  Max calls this an act of surrender. I call it an act of abandon. We speak of the same thing.

Also in It's No Secret I wrote about the parables of the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price. Both of them teach me to surrender to God. To sell out to Him and His plans for me with abandon. That it will be worth any sacrifice.

The thing is, I find this is a decision I have to make over and over. And over, and over ...
What do you have to choose over and over?

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Perfect on Paper

This post picks up where my last one left off so if you missed "Why Does Something Feel Off?" pause and read it real quick. I'll wait.

"Feeling something is off" can mean different things to different people: I feel tired or unfulfilled. I am bored, restless and want an exciting challenge. I feel far from God - spiritually dry. I wonder if there is suppose to be more to life than this? I just don't know what I need ...

The woman who originally asked the question - giving voice to so many of us -  described her current life as really good. In many ways it was all she could or had ever asked for. She even felt a little guilty at times for how well things were turning out for her. Yet contentment proved elusive.

I wonder if that isn't because we tend to have a mental list of "I'll be happy when _____."


For many the list goes something like this. I'll be happy when I lose 10 lbs, get a great job, get married to an adoring husband who earns enough money that I can quit my great job while we have a couple of  kids, and raise them together in a really nice house that the housekeeping service cleans once a week for me.

Maybe your list is different. Maybe you are certain you will be happy once you get rid of your job, or your house, or your spouse. Maybe you don't want any of those things. Maybe you want to move to Paris where you will sit in French cafes and write best-selling novels - and then you'll be happy.

My point is, we imagine certain circumstances will be our happy points. Some of us are fortunate enough to get most of the things on our happy list, or on the culture's happy list (otherwise known as the American Dream).  And when the contented bliss we expected doesn't roll in with the reaching of those circumstances, we're left confused. Feeling a bit disillusioned. Something seems "off" here.

And we wonder with a slight sense of panic, if I am not content and happy now - with all of this - will I ever be? Can I ever be?  Is this as good as life gets? Or have I missed the boat somewhere? Should I have pursued another career? Should I become an outdoorsy travel adventurist? Would I be happier if I took up yoga, ate granola and went green? Or maybe if I moved to the beach ...



I call this mental happy list achievement followed by letdown the "Perfect on Paper Syndrome." On paper - if you were to list it all out like a resume - your life looks pretty good. (Especially if someone mentions starving children in 3rd world countries.) So, therefore, you should be happy, right? Only you aren't quite. And you're not sure why that is or what to do about it.

I know what I speak of. I've fallen prey to this syndrome too, and found myself in a mild depression like a constant low grade-fever.

A couple years ago I went on a quest through the scriptures to find out what the Bible says about a good life. What is pleasing to God? What does He say will please me? What does He intend me to be pleased with? Are you able to answer these questions?

After that I settled on a mission for my life: To craft a life that is pleasing to me and to Christ. I want to conform my mental happy list to God's mental happy list for me. Hence the motto in my devotion last weekend: When I stop striving to create a life for myself, I find the life that God creates for me.

CREATE, by the way, is my one word for 2012.

So what's on your mental "I'll be happy when ..." list?

It's vital to realize what's on your list. Write it down and examine it. Because it is driving you. It's driving your expectations and (re)actions. It's determining your ability to find contentment and gratitude in today - whatever today looks like.

There's nothing wrong with having goals. In my last post I said it may just be that our "little bit off friend" now has too much free time and not enough challenge in her life.  I'm not suggesting we abandon planning or goal-setting, hobbies or even dreaming. But when things feel "off" we have to examine what is going on beneath the surface.

I like to ask:

1) What expectations are driving me? Are they realistic? Can I expect to get this from that? Are they biblical? Because our expectations - for what we need and how we should get our needs met -  affect our emotions.

2) What's the current status of my soul? Have I been neglecting it? When did I last connect with God? Am I remaining in Christ? Am I engaging in any spiritual practices? Because we often mistake spiritual issues for material ones.