Posts
Lists are powerful.
Some of the lists that have occupied my bandwidth include but are not limited to:
1.To Do Lists
2. Shopping Lists
3. Grocery Lists
4. Long Range Goals Lists
5.Wish Lists for Life
6.Wish Lists for the Perfect Husband
7. Bucket Lists
8. Christmas Lists.
The banality of 1-3 are where my list making took the deepest root. I suck at gumption so #4 is out. Just saying the word "Goal" makes me sweat. The word "Bucket" makes me wretch so I've renamed it. And last but not least, "Christmas" is an ebb and flow of conflicted emotions as I lie, straight-faced, to my kids about a dude in a red suit that shimmies down an eight inch stove pipe.
Each and every one of these lists contains amazing stories and manifestations beyond my wildest imagination; some laden with miracles and some rife with unrequited memories. We all live the chiaroscuro of light and dark.There is a yin and yang in lists that convey both hope and dread.
One thing for sure is that lists make a impact when made with joy and hopeful anticipation. Brailling the emotion behind the itemized list and how it would feel is key. The action of physically writing the words and seeing them on paper has an accountable and binding effect. Heartfelt investiture displayed in one's own hand summons a contract of sorts, laser focused for no one but its author or the hired handyman where no job is too small.
Case in point, about five years ago, soon after the annual December arrival of the National Geographic catalog, in my neon-Mariachi-Billy-Mays sort of way, I helped out my husband with nifty gifts I would have been pleased to have opened on Christmas morning. Dog-eared pages, sticky notes and custom doodles embellished with metallic pen were scribbled beside each trinket and indubitably conveyed my level of enthusiasm. The catalog sat and sat, unopened until splayed open unceremoniously after beign tossed into the recycle bin the following March.
Clearly, my husband wanted nothing to do with my lists.
Going back an additional seven years and my affliction with the Sundance jewelry catalog, I batted my eyelashes at a picture of a hand-tied leather and pearl choker for months. This gorgeous creation, a brilliant design juxtaposition of raw and refined, held my gaze. In fact, our fledgling marriage somewhat hinged on this bobble, still holding out in the naive realm of Cinderella.
"No." my husband declared. "You can make this yourself." as I emptied the ashes out of the fireplace and took solace in the sweet songs of birds perching on my window sill. His proclamation landed in my left ear with umbrage and my right ear with mysterious elation. I had reached a bulwark ...my happiness could no longer be delivered by the hum of the UPS truck. Or could it?
In utter desperation I made a list. Indeed, the skills I had as an artist and sculptor made me entirely capable. That one necklace evoked multiple future designs, trips to the Arizona Gem show and silversmithing classes. That one "No" transcended into grace, into a business, into a lifeboat where my independent, Diva-self could float and wait and create while my mother-self nursed, changed diapers and breathed through a straw. That "No" honed my discretionary time in between napping children that brought a great sense of creation and passion to my life.
My list from the jewelry components catalog cost double the value of the necklace I sought from Sundance. My shipment was delivered by UPS.
To further illuminate how vested I was in lists, right around the same time, I devised C:\Documentsand Settings\Julie\MyDocuments\Lists\Grocery. It is comprised of separate areas for produce, dairy, meats, dry goods, canned goods, health & beauty, miscellaneous, Trader Joes and Big Y. By the delineation of these separate areas I was relieved of the irritation to have to double back for items I may have missed in the produce aisle with an errant, illegible request for - let's say - kumquats. I continue to implement these lists for staple items that stray from my intuitionally inventoried cache. This list I thee wed.
Lists are good yet have their limitations.
Fast forward to 2010, a gazillion self-help paragraphs and two mentors later. My life, based list making, that had manifested my husband, my necklace and thousands of dollars in toilet paper, eggs and milk was under seige.
"Just by the presence of a list conveys that you are in lack-mentality, " my teacher suggested...this new thought was the cosmic KA-BOOM nudging 8 on my internal Richter. He had a point. What would my life look like if I stopped jumping through my hoopes of lists? He helped shift my perception from lack into a constant state of abundance.
Although I am not able to dismount completely, my grip has softened. Relinquishing my over-weighted dependence has opened a world greater than I had previously known to exist. There is less time spent with the niggle of dissatisfaction and more time in a state of mindful appreciation and gratitude. Skip some lists and envision as if your heart has already been transplanted into the delicious scenario of your dreams.
Surrendering to your own joy, worth, happiness and harmony may require that you look up from your list.
Julie Bowes - Certified Life Coach
P.O. Box 82
Sherman, CT 06784
203.240.4397
JewelTree, LLC
Facebook/JewelTree, LLC
Some of the lists that have occupied my bandwidth include but are not limited to:
1.To Do Lists
2. Shopping Lists
3. Grocery Lists
4. Long Range Goals Lists
5.Wish Lists for Life
6.Wish Lists for the Perfect Husband
7. Bucket Lists
8. Christmas Lists.
The banality of 1-3 are where my list making took the deepest root. I suck at gumption so #4 is out. Just saying the word "Goal" makes me sweat. The word "Bucket" makes me wretch so I've renamed it. And last but not least, "Christmas" is an ebb and flow of conflicted emotions as I lie, straight-faced, to my kids about a dude in a red suit that shimmies down an eight inch stove pipe.
Each and every one of these lists contains amazing stories and manifestations beyond my wildest imagination; some laden with miracles and some rife with unrequited memories. We all live the chiaroscuro of light and dark.There is a yin and yang in lists that convey both hope and dread.
One thing for sure is that lists make a impact when made with joy and hopeful anticipation. Brailling the emotion behind the itemized list and how it would feel is key. The action of physically writing the words and seeing them on paper has an accountable and binding effect. Heartfelt investiture displayed in one's own hand summons a contract of sorts, laser focused for no one but its author or the hired handyman where no job is too small.
Case in point, about five years ago, soon after the annual December arrival of the National Geographic catalog, in my neon-Mariachi-Billy-Mays sort of way, I helped out my husband with nifty gifts I would have been pleased to have opened on Christmas morning. Dog-eared pages, sticky notes and custom doodles embellished with metallic pen were scribbled beside each trinket and indubitably conveyed my level of enthusiasm. The catalog sat and sat, unopened until splayed open unceremoniously after beign tossed into the recycle bin the following March.
Clearly, my husband wanted nothing to do with my lists.
Going back an additional seven years and my affliction with the Sundance jewelry catalog, I batted my eyelashes at a picture of a hand-tied leather and pearl choker for months. This gorgeous creation, a brilliant design juxtaposition of raw and refined, held my gaze. In fact, our fledgling marriage somewhat hinged on this bobble, still holding out in the naive realm of Cinderella.
"No." my husband declared. "You can make this yourself." as I emptied the ashes out of the fireplace and took solace in the sweet songs of birds perching on my window sill. His proclamation landed in my left ear with umbrage and my right ear with mysterious elation. I had reached a bulwark ...my happiness could no longer be delivered by the hum of the UPS truck. Or could it?
In utter desperation I made a list. Indeed, the skills I had as an artist and sculptor made me entirely capable. That one necklace evoked multiple future designs, trips to the Arizona Gem show and silversmithing classes. That one "No" transcended into grace, into a business, into a lifeboat where my independent, Diva-self could float and wait and create while my mother-self nursed, changed diapers and breathed through a straw. That "No" honed my discretionary time in between napping children that brought a great sense of creation and passion to my life.
My list from the jewelry components catalog cost double the value of the necklace I sought from Sundance. My shipment was delivered by UPS.
To further illuminate how vested I was in lists, right around the same time, I devised C:\Documentsand Settings\Julie\MyDocuments\Lists\Grocery. It is comprised of separate areas for produce, dairy, meats, dry goods, canned goods, health & beauty, miscellaneous, Trader Joes and Big Y. By the delineation of these separate areas I was relieved of the irritation to have to double back for items I may have missed in the produce aisle with an errant, illegible request for - let's say - kumquats. I continue to implement these lists for staple items that stray from my intuitionally inventoried cache. This list I thee wed.
Lists are good yet have their limitations.
Fast forward to 2010, a gazillion self-help paragraphs and two mentors later. My life, based list making, that had manifested my husband, my necklace and thousands of dollars in toilet paper, eggs and milk was under seige.
"Just by the presence of a list conveys that you are in lack-mentality, " my teacher suggested...this new thought was the cosmic KA-BOOM nudging 8 on my internal Richter. He had a point. What would my life look like if I stopped jumping through my hoopes of lists? He helped shift my perception from lack into a constant state of abundance.
Although I am not able to dismount completely, my grip has softened. Relinquishing my over-weighted dependence has opened a world greater than I had previously known to exist. There is less time spent with the niggle of dissatisfaction and more time in a state of mindful appreciation and gratitude. Skip some lists and envision as if your heart has already been transplanted into the delicious scenario of your dreams.
Surrendering to your own joy, worth, happiness and harmony may require that you look up from your list.
Ask Yourself:
How can I live more and list less?
Julie Bowes - Certified Life Coach
P.O. Box 82
Sherman, CT 06784
203.240.4397
JewelTree, LLC
Facebook/JewelTree, LLC
No comments:
Post a Comment