A week ago, I hosted a Happier Hour at my home with author and speaker Danielle LaPorte. It was a wonderful evening. Danielle sat in one of our black-and-white chairs and talked in her soothing voice about goal-setting and desire-mapping. She talked about how we need to stop focusing so linearly on accomplishments – on having gorgeous hard wood floors in our homes and big bucks in our bank accounts – and hone in on how we want to feel in life.
I know I was not the only one who was inspired. I know this because the feedback was tremendous and the conversations after her talk were rich and deep and different. She shook us up. And being shaken up is hard sometimes; it is not easy-breezy-whatever to wander into an evening thinking we know how we see the world and to arrive on its other end, well, not necessarily knowing.
The really cool thing is that Danielle stayed with us at our place for three nights. This meant that we had time. Down time. Time to sit in our comfy clothes and eat takeout burritos and late-night organic American cheese singles and talk. Really talk. About life, what matters, what we know, what we don’t know. It was a true treat, something I’m still processing. At one point, I admitted to her that I felt some guilt because we are paying two people to work in our home (our beloved nanny and our beloved housekeeper) so that we can hold it together, so that I can write. I told her that I think it would be good for me to finish my novel and make some money so that I feel like I am contributing.
And she asked me if this was really about money or if it was about doing something that mattered to me, finishing something that means a great deal. And I realized, and immediately too, that it was the latter, that this story I’ve been working on for years now is of profound importance to me and that giving myself permission to finish it must be a priority. There was a moment when we were sitting at my kitchen island and she looked me in the eye and said something, something I think I’ve been waiting for someone to say: “You need to just live in sweatpants and get it done.” And she is right. I’m figuring out how to do this, how to don those literal or proverbial sweatpants, and just get it done.
Anyway, I could go on and on, and I will and I won’t. What I will say is that I feel exceedingly fortunate to have people in my life – like Danielle – who are thoughtful and inspiring, who encourage me, and all of us, to think and re-think, to frame and re-frame, the important things. I know that not everyone is interested in existential exploration, in pondering desire and meaning and identity, but I am. I really am.
Last week, Danielle implored all of us to think about something: How do we want to feel? I’ve been giving this a lot of thought over the last week and have concluded that some of the things I want to feel are: noticed, observed, felt. I want people to see me, and hear me, and witness who I am and who I am becoming, the stories I am telling, the stories I am living. I think this is why I write and why I blog; it is out of a desire to be noticed, observed, felt. But Danielle also cautioned us against placing too much power in the hands of others; and she suggested that we are careful when we choose the words to describe what we want to feel. Along these lines, I think what I want, perhaps most of all, is to be noticing, observant, feeling.
Maybe this is why I am obsessed with small details. Details about my world and my girls and my fictional characters and myself. I am smitten with life’s metaphysical minutiae, clues to the people and places around me and within me. Anyway, I know this is rambling, but as always that’s a fine thing, a me thing. The point is that I wanted to come here today and say thank you to my friend Danielle for firing me up, for getting me to think hard and dream big and wonder freely, for telling me to lose the excuses and put on those yummy pants and write my story.
Who are you? What do you want? How do you want to feel in life? Are you able to answer these questions? Do you think there are people who never think about these things? Are they better or worse off?
Footnote: I woke up this morning and almost came here to edit out the mentions of money. I know this is a tricky topic and for the most part I avoid talking about it here. But the truth is that I find the question of privilege to be very interesting and important. I’ve had occasion to talk about this topic with fellow writers and there seems to be a consensus to “not go there” in our writing because of an abiding fear of how people will react. The reality is that I feel very fortunate to have the opportunity to be home with my kids and to spend time writing words here and elsewhere; I know that this is a privilege many people do not have and I do not take it for granted and, YES, it makes me feel guilt sometimes. Okay, a lot. So, why not be honest about this? It felt really good to be honest with Danielle about these things and so I figured I’d be honest with you guys too. And so I am not editing the post I wrote, but leaving it as is. It feels pretty good not to edit myself too much, to feel free to talk about something maybe a lot of us think about – whether we feel privileged or no? What do you guys think? Is this topic off-limits for some reason? Should it be?
So glad you didn’t edit the money stuff out, Aidan! It felt like a really important part of the blog, and it is such an unhealthy area for so many of us, one way or the other. I know that part of the story here really resonated for me, even though our situations are different on the surface. Good stuff! Don’t be afraid to say it like it is!
Great blog today, thank you.
Warmly,
Alice
I want to feel important. And like what I am doing is making a difference.
Interestingly, I just wrote a very haphazard and quickly thrown together post about how I’ve been not blogging as much (or as high quality) as I want to. That I’ve been struggling to try and do everything and fit in everything I want – the experiences that are so important to make sure that I am ultimately happy at the end of a day – or at least happier more times than I am sad…since happiness is a feeling and emotion and cannot be felt without other contradicting emotions.
And, ultimately (I’m sure I could come up with more words if I put some thought into it, but need to get my plans done for my senior’s creative writing class today), I want to feel happy in life. And there are so many things that go into that.
Thanks for making me think this morning – and making me feel happy about life (because it feels much easier to be happy when you know you are not alone in your feelings about things). Have a great day! And good luck with the writing – I can’t wait to see the finished product!
Oh there is so much here to respond to. I love that you come right out and say that you want to feel important and that you are making a difference. I imagine so many of us can relate to this. But what does this mean ultimately? Do we want to feel important or be seen as important by certain people, by society? And what does it really mean to make a difference? In what context? These are such big, wildly important, inquiries.
And, yes, happiness. Something we all strive for, but again and again, I am left wondering what this truly means. Is happiness something that comes in fits and flashes, in bits and pieces? Is it something we grasp or something we can only glimpse? How do we pursue happiness when all of us, each and every one of us, is immersed in a busy and responsibility-laden life? I don’t pretend to know.
So so appreciate your words today, Elise. Thank you.
To me, the privilege is having the time and mental capacity to ponder these truly fascinating ideas because you have the help and don’t have to truly worry about finances. Your need to contribute to the family is noble, but not urgent. I spend my mental energy worrying about money related issues and how they affect my family. However, that’s why I read your blog – you struggle with these issues, and I get to consider things I wouldn’t have time to come up with on my own. I appreciate that you use your privilege for this blog.
Wow. Thank you so much for this. I must say that my stomach twisted a bit when I saw an Anonymous comment roll in on this post today because I have been doing this for almost 4 years and I know that topics like these can bring some criticism. But then I read your words and I smiled. Big. It is an absolute privilege to have the time and freedom to ask these big questions, to roll around in them, to write words about them. I know that many people, most people, have very practical things that are keeping them from having these internal dialogues. I guess that I feel like these questions are worth asking and I want to ask them – for me, for whoever wants to come here and witness or participate in the asking.
And privilege is such a big, enigmatic topic. It is not just about money, but about opportunity and time and much more. I think we are probably all privileged in very different ways and that these manners in which we are, or feel, privileged probably stir up mixed feelings in all of us. At the end of the day, I believe that these feelings, these thoughts, these questions, are worth examining and exploring.
Again, thank you for taking the time to write these words today. As I hope you can tell, they mean a great deal – and I think they add, and will add, importantly to this conversation.
Happy Thursday!
Great post, Aidan. I’m also a big fan of Danielle’s and love that she was able to give you some honest and heartfelt advice. It seems, from your words, that the person we see on her blog and in her books is the same person she is in REAL life. How rare and wonderful!
Also, I hope that no one writes any negative comments. I think it was Seth Godin who said, “Anonymity is death of civility” and unfortunately the internet breeds that type of attitude. You were honest and open and you should be applauded for that.
xx
jocelyn
I am so grateful that you so willingly share things that aren’t perfectly tidy or devoid of potential controversy. We all have things that for us are normal but that for others may be foreign.
I am looking forward to following your journey, both the written quest and the intellectual and emotional exploration.
I love that you are willing to put it all out there. I haven’t been following for long, but I am intrigued! I think a lot of what you are contemplating comes with aging and being a mother. I never took the time to think about things like that until I had my kids. Then I needed to understand what my role was going forward. All the whys and hows take you to deep places. That and too much Oprah/Eckert Tolle!
I think privilege is relative. Yes, your situation sounds fortunate, but you also exude gratitude. I struggle with this as well, because I don’t have to look too far to know how incredibly fortunate I am in, in so many areas of my life. I walked away from my writing dreams many years ago because I felt guilty. It took time away from my kids who really, really needed me (it was a unique situation…too long to explain). I also felt like I wasn’t contributing to their care or the household, because I wasn’t making money! But now I know I need to write – to be heard, to tell my children’s story and to hopefully help other parents in similar situations.
Now I’m blabbering…
Speaking of privilege and guilt, I have a web designer helping my revamp my blog, so I will be taken seriously and I guess, to feel important. Still not where I should be to justify the help, so it’s a guilt tripper!
I see you xo
Gosh, this is sometimes IT.
I am going to go tell someone “I see you”.
What a gift.
This is a big thing for me, personally. Often times I go back and forth in my beliefs about what I want from my life, what makes me happiest- what I truly feel. Some days it seems clear and concise, as though the path I am on is suddenly so concrete. Other days, I find myself feeling so detached, wondering how I’ve even made it this far. Second guessing the choices in my past; pondering the what-ifs of life. I find myself censoring myself, which though very necessary in life, leaves me feeling partially disappointed in myself. It feels as though it’s hard to balance all of the priorities of life most days.
I do think there are people who don’t think of these things; of their direction, path. They are just going. Maybe? I have no idea, but I have often envied the notion. Maybe it goes back to the idea of ignorance being bliss. While I’m not sure of much, I am sure that things could be much worse. And when I let the worries of the future or past cloud my vision, I try to remember that, first and foremost. As writers, perhaps we think about this more in depth than most others, because it comes with the territory.
“There is not one big cosmic meaning for all; there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.” ― Anaïs Nin
I was fortunate to be there last week and inspired by what Danielle said (and full of memories of the very first time I met you, at a Firestarter Session with Danielle 3.5 years ago!). I know that I conflate feeling and thinking an awful lot, and I need to learn to disentangle what I think from how I feel … how can I possibly articulate how I WANT to feel if I’m not always even sure how I do feel in the moment? xoxo
Loved the evening with Danielle. I too came away feeling shaken up. It left me very reflective and self-focused for a few days, which really doesn’t happen often.
I want to feel considered, valued & heard…and not necessarily by others, but my MYSELF! I feel like I spend a lot of time thinking, feeling, doing for, and reacting to others (husband, kids, friends, schools, etc.) and sometimes don’t feel like I’m even very considerate of MYSELF and my needs.
So I’m going to work on that!
Aidan, this MIGHT just be my favorite post you’ve ever written. I so, so relate, and I am taking that line about wearing the sweatpants and GETTING IT DONE personally. Because that’s what I need to do with my own, YA novel. I need to/MUST finish it – and maybe that’s because I want to feel observed, or maybe that’s because I want my stor(ies) to be read, or maybe it’s because it feels like it’s a part of me that hasn’t been born yet but is trying to (wow, super cheesy but you know what I mean!)
Also, in regards to the privilege: you know what? Privilege is relative. Privilege is different for EVERYBODY. As moms, we now understand what a privilege TIME truly is, in a way we probably never did before having children. Moms understand this better than anyone.
I feel like I’m constantly walking a tightrope between pursuing my passions (writing) and “contributing” (like, with a good-on-paper job that walks the straight and narrow), but now I’m at a time in my life where I just need to GET IT DONE. Life is short and -without going into too much boring detail! – I have to let myself do what I love right now, so I completely get where you’re coming from (I get the guilt, too). But don’t forget you have THREE kids — if you added up all the childcare you would need if you were working full-time, you’d be making a six figure salary. Seriously.
A comment on privilege, because I think your concerns with it (whatever it really is) pervades the whole piece. Money and privilege are not the same thing. Privilege, as I see it, is institutional more than financial. The fact that you have the financial resources to employ two people in your home is a mark of wise resource allocation, not of privilege. The privilege you enjoy is living in a country full of resources that you can exploit to foster your creative impulses. You’re making good use of those resources. That’s commendable. Keep doing it.
And there, in my opinion, is the source of existential crisis: you want to be a “contributor” to the financial side of running a household. That is simply not the role you currently fill. Few artists fill that role in their lives, to be realistic about it, but they feel the pressures to do so. This pressure often ends in a violent sort of self-reflection and doubt. But “contributing” is so much more than depositing checks in the bank.
The contribution you make is, shall we say, emotional rather than financial. You want to be “noticing, observant, and feeling.” An observer and expresser of detail, like you, is its own contributing resource. The payoff might not be dollars and cents, but there is HUGE payoff. It’s subtle payoff; it’s the payoff of philosophy — learning to notice what has been right in front of you. To do so is to enhance your life, and your writings inspire others to do so.
Think of it this way: I’m dead broke in an island paradise. But I’m raising my kid in a freaking island paradise! Now that’s privilege.
love this comment, brian.
Love this!!
I absolutely love, love, love this post! If I had a Friday Favorites list, this post would be among my favorites of this week, if not all month or all year.
I so wish I could be a part of these Happier Hours – you gather with such wonderful, inspiring women – but that’s not why I’m commenting today…
I’m commenting today because the topic of being seen has been on my mind A LOT lately, especially after reading Claire Bidwell Smith’s post on being seen (and Allison Slater Tate’s related post concerning the Mom Staying in the Picture), and I think your post adds so much to that discussion!
I’m struck again and again about how we see our children; we really, really see them. And, for most of us, we want our children to see us seeing them. What strikes me is that when a parent dies (in my case – my mother), do we lose a person (or even THAT person) who sees us in return? For me, my mother was the only person who truly saw me, who cared where I was each and every day, who wanted to know when exactly I’d be home from a trip. There’s nobody that can replace her as that person who saw me. And I so want to be seen.
Last night, I walked into my house right when the babysitter was dressing my son for bed. I inched my way into his quiet room, and, as soon as his little eyes spotted me, he brightened and smiled. A precious, visible, big smile. And I thought, “He sees me. And he’s happy to see me.” And I kind of didn’t believe it.
On a related topic…I can go on and on about how I want to feel, but I don’t want to bore you…Mostly, I want to feel brave. I want to have the courage to make my own decisions so that those same decisions aren’t made by other people. I don’t want the decisions of other people to impact my life so much because of my own inaction or inability to make a decision. It’s taken me a lot of time to figure this one out, but I think about it all the time now. I’ve looked for resources on courage (even took an online 30 day class!), but there are so few out there. I need to work on this for myself…
Thanks, Aidan, for another wonderful post!
Amy, just wanted to say thank you for mentioning me — it’s an honor — and that I found your comment really profound AND I’m working on an idea that completely dovetails with what you said — so I am thrilled!
Aidan — Loved this, wish I could have been there to hear it. I think I want to feel brave and I want to feel benevolent. It’s been a year of high highs and challenging lows, of a lot of praise and a lot of criticism, and I have had to try to grow a skin thick to both hyperbole and hurt. I want to feel like I am good. I want to feel like I take chances.
As a lifelong overanalyzer and worrier extraordinaire (not sure either of those terms are “actual” words, but I’ll go with it!), I do believe there are people in life who rarely think of these things . . . and sometimes I envy them. Sometimes I think and feel too much, that I worry before the time has come to worry, and I don’t like that about myself. I think almost every day about how to change it, taking tiny steps toward releasing worry and moving forward.
And that couples nicely with how I want to feel: free. Confident. Happy. At ease. Not wound as tightly as a coil; not down or out or afraid. As I move closer to my wedding day and a bevy of big changes, I want to give myself permission to feel whatever it is I need to feel . . . if that makes sense? Sometimes I worry too much about my reactions, and I don’t allow myself time to genuinely process them.
This is quite a ramble — but to sum up: thank you for this post, Aidan! Very thought-provoking and inspiring, as usual.
“But Danielle also cautioned us against placing too much power in the hands of others; and she suggested that we are careful when we choose the words to describe what we want to feel.”
I think this is so an awesome statement. I struggle with this a lot…giving others the power to determine how I feel. I am working on taking it back.
How do I want to feel? I don’t really know the right words to describe this and how it relates to “feel” but I want to slow down and not feel anxiety when life chooses to slow me down. My mom has MS and one of the things I am struggling with is the need to “go go go” which is how our family has always operated and instead feel okay with moving slow, life throwing curve balls on a daily basis and understanding it’s okay. Slow down. Enjoying the little moments with my Mom and the little moments in life..and remembering them. I guess in many ways it is similar to your comment about noticing. I guess I want to feel my mind slow down to embrace moments rather than rushing through them if that makes any sense.
On the topic of privilege, I personally think it’s a privilege to read your words everyday which give me topics to cause me to pause and think. Topics I would probably not present to myself or give my mind enough time to wander to. Thanks for giving me a reason to slow down today and everyday and embrace my thoughts about life.
A–I wanted to share one of the best bits of writing inspiration/advice I have seen in a while. It is printed and posted above my desk. What I love to feel and sometimes long for are the words that burst out like Bukowski describes below–that can’t be contained. That is when I feel most alive as a writer.
TJ
so you want to be a writer?
by Charles Bukowski
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
The money thing is not that big of a deal, really. I assume somebody has a trust fund (you or the husband), or your husband has a kick ass job that he has done very well at.
And that’s about it, right?
The main thing is that you are raising three lovely children, and giving them a great childhood experience. And the other main thing is that you have to do WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO DO to finish your book. Give yourself a deadline, work backwards to figure out how much you have to write/accomplish each day to get there, and do it.
No excuses. No one cares, they’re boring. (Yours and mine.)
xoxoo
Recently discovered Danielle LaPorte, she seems exceptionally cool. Am going to read her Fire Starter Sessions.
Oh, and I have written five best sellers, so I know (a bit) from whence I speak. Either write, or don’t. Everything else is just mucking it up in the middle (and doesn’t count).
ps — I grew up on the North Shore of Long Island where nobody apologizes for having help. Nobody.
Instead: why not be grateful?
Just a thought –
You are sooo lucky! I wish I had all your $ and connections. Do good in the world with what you are given
For of those to whom much is given, much is required. -JFK
Aidan, we all want to be seen by those we love and by the world. We seek wisdom and we search for a deeper meaning for our life..we leave words..footprints in the sand of time. I love this post and I am glad that you did not edit it. We want to read your words and accept you as you are. We want to read your truth. As long as you are true to yourself you can never be wrong. Stay inspired.
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Man, I gotta say — Aidan, brilliant thought-provoking post. And your commenters! What an AMAZING, wonderful group of people. Well done, all of you.
The universe has handed you the resources to hire help so that you can write. In return, you owe the universe this story
Give yourself the space to let it unfold. It will.