Asking or deciding?
If we want something, it is great to ask for it, politely, then wait and see what happens, resisting the urge to argue ourselves out of the things we choose. Ask, then wait and see. I find this works for me in all sorts of situations: parking spaces, turning right at a junction, remembering what I need when I’m shopping. It works in bigger ways too.
The problem arises when, if we are not careful, our request becomes a beg, hedged round with either dependency or expectation on others, neither of which is very helpful: ‘Oh, pleeeease bring me this man, house, job, of my dreams. I’ve been waiting for aaages…’ Or else, our request sounds like a shopping list: ‘I’d like Santa to bring me a new job, a new car and a million quid.’ Yeah, sure, okay. Anything else? We can ask, and Life responds not only to our request, but to our tone of voice. So I enjoy asking cheerfully, with hope. At this time of year, that also feels cheerfully festive.
We can also decide; which is subtly different from asking – though both go hand in hand. I may decide, for example, that (I’m going to stop worrying or complaining and that) I do have a wonderful, lovely life: that I enjoy my home, I adore all my family and all is well with the world. I can decide I have all the energy, motivation, inspiration – and blog posts! – to do what I have to do, to keep moving forward and finally accomplish my goals. These may keep moving too, but that’s okay, as long as I check in occasionally and make sure that my choices are up to date.
When I decide, I am more in control of what happens, morphing very quickly from the deckhand to the captain of my own ship. Which is as it should be. I can’t know what anyone else truly wants, but I can know how I feel, what I would like to do, and what floats my boat.
Thanks for reading, and have a very warm and joyful Christmas and New Year.
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December 29, 2017
Hope for the future
Fran Macilvey Fran Macilvey, Happiness Matters, The Rights & Wrongs of Writing 2 Comments
Hope for the future
Enjoying a convivial meal with my family – my mother, my sister and her family, as well as hubby and daughter – I happened to ask cousin Frederick, “Who said, ‘plan your work, every day, then work your plan’?” He looked suitably enquiring – how generous of him– as I answered, “Margaret Thatcher!” hoping he might look suitably interested.
I am not by nature a conservative, but I do believe in offering credit where it is due, and as an author who should spend more time writing, I thought that what Margaret said was rather apposite to my situation. But Frederick is not only creative, he’s perceptive too. He answered, “But what about inspiration?” entirely clear that without inspiration, nothing is really going to work out, is it? Hard graft answers creativity, but is not the spark that lights the fire.
Truly, that truth had escaped me; and I doffed my cap – metaphorically, there wasn’t room at the table for anything grander – and thanked him for his insight. We need inspiration and we need to watch and honour those creative impulses, without which hard work becomes an empty sort of gesture.
I hope that the new year brings us all gifts and challenges that enrich our lives. Seeing the intelligence and wit or my daughter and her cousins, in awe of the progress my mother makes as she adjusts to her new normality, I am reminded, again, that we don’t need to worry about other people, so much as understand and realise the potential that we hold within ourselves to make a difference. Even a small step forward is better than none.
I wish you all the best for 2018. I shall be working hard, and have already made some ambitious plans, including visiting the London Book Fair in April, and Frankfurt Buchmesse in October. I might say I have been inspired to make these visits and in the meantime, I shall be putting in the hard work to get the best out of both events.
In love and peace.
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