A new year at Becoming
Resolutions, giving away money, enlisting angels
Check in
What does it mean When the shaving cream is yellow And the moon is pink And all that is left Is caffeine and ink?*
Let’s talk about Becoming
I titled this newsletter—blog, compendium, whatever—“Becoming” because I wanted to write about crafting a life of happiness, fulfillment, forgiveness and love. A place where dreams are real and unicorns, if that’s your thing, munch on magic clover.
No, seriously, folks. I wanted to share my thoughts because I hoped they might resonate with readers.
I chose—well, not chose but was impelled—to write through the filter of my ego. I can’t help it. My hope is to lead by example, not telling you what to do but showing you what I do and how it affects me.
These ideas and practices work for me, and I hope some of them will for you, too.
Other writers on spiritual topics use anecdotes about people they’ve met or known through their practice as psychologists or energy healers, lecturers or teachers. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself in my life up to now to have a vast reservoir of such insights, so I have to write from what I know.
And I know this: I’ve built a life that I love, and I want to share with you how I make it work. That’s pretty simple, yes?
Besides, amid the “becoming” markers on these pages, there are plenty of other ideas and insights and funny bits for you to nibble on, dear unicorns. Take what you want, ignore what you don’t. But please, keep reading.
*As an alternative title, what about “Caffeine and Ink”?
Cats who have left us
These past few weeks, folks dear to me have lost their cats. My friend Mary’s Pip, her companion of 18 years, had throat cancer. My sister Catherine lost Suzie, the aged, blind cat who finally developed dementia and was piercingly sad all the time.
My brother Michael lost two cats to illness, Tina and Johnny. But his new friend is JJ, for Jellybean Junior.
The committee to find things
An acquaintance once explained to me how she had instituted a committee of angels to find lost objects. “They’re just sitting around, waiting to help,” she noted.
So, when her cat’s toys go missing, she calls: “Here, little toy, come back to me!” And the angels bring it.
I am reminded of dreaming about my lavender sweater. On rising and remembering the dream, I decided to wear it. When I went to put it on, a sock I had been missing—one of my hand-knit ones—popped out of the sleeve, where it had obviously migrated during the wash. Maybe the angels helped me.
More angel help
My missing knitting turned up! It had gone missing a few months ago, about the time I abandoned handicrafts for writing and gave away a lot of fabric. I thought I had left it on a bus or something. No one would have known it was mine, and I vowed to add contact info to all my project bags.
I didn’t dream about the knitting; I was just rummaging in a box of fabric scraps and there it was, lurking in the bottom. How it got there, I’ll never know. But angels, or dumb luck, brought it home.
Count those chickens
One of the many book ideas I’ve had was a list of monthly resolutions.
List books, or one-a-day books, are perennially popular. Here are a couple, one of which I’ve actually read:
List Yourself Happy: 100 Lists to Inspire Real Change by Jess Indeedy (really, that’s her name?) Her bio says “Jess Indeedy is a devout list-maker, happiness mindset champion, event designer, and author.”
Praying for Strangers: An Adventure of the Human Spirit by River Jordan (another, er, interesting name). The book’s description reads: “She unexpectedly came upon the perfect New Year's resolution—one that focused on others instead of herself. She would pray for a complete stranger every single day for a year.” This one I read. I liked it.
Switch On Your Brain Every Day: 365 Readings for Peak Happiness, Thinking, and Health. The author’s bio: “Dr. Caroline Leaf is a cognitive neuroscientist with a PhD in Communication Pathology and a BSc Logopaedics (British spelling of logopedics, speech therapy for children) specializing in cognitive and metacognitive neuropsychology.” Chew on those big words.
My own idea was simple: make a resolution, not just for the new year, but for each month. Here’s the list:
January: Buy nothing. Be content with what you have.
February: Nix on negativity. Not being a critic is so difficult for me that I assigned working on it to the shortest month.
March: Reconnect. Pick up the strands of dropped relationships and weave them back into life.
April: Reset and reorganize. Not just external clutter, but disorganized thoughts and intentions, even dreams.
May: My body. Review. Renew. Restart. Movement, disability, resolution.
June: It’s not about me. A month to choose not to be offended, not to run everything past the “me” filter, to move beyond assumptions. An extension of February.
July: Walk every day
August: Remember to see. I visit this concept so often, it’s worth its own month.
September: Colors and seasons.
October: Home and away. We scatter, we regroup.
November: The dark is rising. Warmth, light and comfort in an unforgiving world.
December: Making celebrations matter.
I’m hoping, in this space, to visit this list every month and at least pat the head of that month’s aspiration as it toddles by. Maybe I’ll be able to stick with this plan for a few months.
Resolution solutions
Have I followed these precepts? Of course not. That is the nature of resolutions. They feel so good to write, so good that you can then let yourself ignore them.
Except for the first one, January—buy nothing. I remember that every year and I usually keep it.
It’s easy, actually. I have to buy certain things—food, fuel—and account for emergencies like the water heater failing, but other than that, I just . . . don’t.
I sometimes put items in an online shopping basket, then ask: do I really need this? And the answer is always no, at least in January.
I end the month with fewer books I don’t need, fewer “wild hair” purchases of fabric, clothing or little gizmos I read about and then researched.
Like quilt batting tape, a product that helps rabid recyclers like me reuse the odd pieces of batting left over from bigger projects.
Or any of the useful tiny tools from JetPens including erasers shaped like pastries.
First fruits, not leftovers
We all got plenty of appeals in the last few months of 2022 asking us to give to charities and other organizations.
Consider this: instead of giving at years’ end, make your plans for giving at the beginning of the year. I will never forget an article about giving in The New York Times magazine in which the writer said he got to the end of the year and then added up how much money he had left to give away.
That’s exactly backwards! Charitable giving should come from the top, not the bottom. Those who need it most should be taken care of before your expenditures on entertainment or dining out, air travel or stuff you buy just because.
So in January, or perhaps at tax time, whenever you are planning your spending for the rest of the year, put charities at the top of the list. Don’t wait till December.
Do you wait for December to budget for food, or utilities, or education expenses? Of course not. So why should charity be in the caboose, rather than at the front of the train?
N.B. With the changes in tax law, specifically the big increase in the standard deduction, you are not likely to be able to itemize your giving. In my case, because I’m older than 701/2, I can have my brokerage write checks from my IRA’s required minimum distribution (RMD) before taxes and get the charity write-off that way.
Open your checkbook
Think about what’s important to you. Are you willing to give away 10 percent of your income—the traditional tithe? I know hard-core givers who hold that any tithe should go to your faith community—church, synagogue, mosque, temple—with other charitable giving on TOP of that. That’s a big frog to swallow.
In the end, though, percentages don’t matter. What’s in your heart matters. Decide up front whom you wish to support. And write those checks. In January. Or April. Or at the end of the year, when you decide to sweeten the pot by giving a little extra.
Check out
~How to get me to write about you~
I once knitted a pair of socks for a virtual stranger, someone I knew in passing at church. Why? Because she asked me to.
I’ve also made quilts for people who are more acquaintances than friends. Because they asked.
I’ve been writing, willy nilly, about people who move into my life and set up housekeeping in the synchronicity corral. If, when reading other folks’ stories, you find yourself wishing I could tell yours—well, ask. I might get around to it.
Write. Please. Write.
~20 minutes will change your life~
Morning pages (the term Julia Cameron uses in The Artist’s Way for daily writing exercises) do change lives. You have no idea what’s lurking beneath the surface of your ego until you take the plunge and explore it.
Here’s another resource, a classic: Life’s Companion: Journal Writing as a Spiritual Practice, by Christina Baldwin. This book is so rich you can’t just sit down and read it. You need to dip in and out. I just opened it at random and encountered this:
If you are not your ego, who will you be?
Write about the self you are becoming.
Own your growth and power.
Discuss humbleness of heart.
Another synchronicity
And, on the same page, this, a quotation from the Tibetan teacher Chögyam Trungpa:
Ego is constantly attempting to acquire and apply the teachings of spirituality for its own benefit . . . the main point of any spiritual practice is to step out of the bureaucracy of ego. This means stepping out of ego’s constant desire for a higher, more spiritual, more transcendental version of knowledge, religion, virtue, judgment, comfort or whatever it is, that the particular ego is seeking.
Sometimes the best way to seek is to stop seeking.
I take a plunge
I’ve finally posted one (1) story to a Substack newsletter that I reserved several months ago. It’s called Fables and Legends, and it’s a landing place for little pieces of fiction that arise from my daily writing exercises. These stories come from nowhere and they defy description, at least by me.
I only plan to post one or two a month, for now. Each of them must be nutured, and I’m concentrating on Becoming.
If you subscribe, you’ll get a notice when I post there.
Finally, remember
Do less Live more Know that you are loved —30—
If you like to chew on big words you might be a sesquipedalian! P.S. Great post.