thirteen virtues

(via Miss Bonaparte)

When he was young, Benjamin Franklin transcribed a list of thirteen important virtues that he felt were important guides for living. At the end of each day, Franklin would record his progress and transgressions in a book. It is not the virtues themselves that inspire me (Franklin seems to have wanted to limit his pleasure, while my desire is to enhance it), but rather his daily act of reflection and mindfulness. Franklin admitted that he often lapsed in at least one of his virtues; but he always resolved to do better the next day. And it is, I think, the promise to do better that makes us better. Not necessarily being an angel (or, as Franklin said, achieving "Moral Perfection"), but striving to be.

So I have created my own virtues. Actually, I don't know whether they should be called virtues - maybe just things to remember; or, things to keep in mind as I go about my day. Most of them are quite simple but surprisingly easy to forget in the messiness of life. I don't think I will actually assess myself by marking them off, but I will reflect upon them each night, and peruse them again each morning. My hope is that, one day, they will become so ingrained in my frame of mind that I will abide by them, subconsciously. Living lightly, joyfully and lovingly, each and every day.

Avarice

The most important things in life aren't things.

Beauty

What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.

Begin

Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand-and melting like a snowflake…

Career

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Change

How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.

Cherish
Cherish your visions. 

Cherish your ideals. 
Cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind, the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts. 
For out of them will grow all delightful conditions, all heavenly environment, of these, if you but remain true to them, your world will at last be built.

Consciousness

I have no advice for anybody; except to, you know, be awake enough to see where you are at any given time, and how that is beautiful, and has poetry inside. Even places you hate.

Courage

Nothing external to you has any power over you.

Decisions

The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.

Dreams

Tell everyone what you want to do and someone will want to help you do it.

Faith

What you are comes to you.

Freedom

Man is free at the instant he wants to be.

Friendship

We won’t always know whose lives we touched and made better for our having cared, because actions can sometimes have unforeseen ramifications. What’s important is that you do care and you act.

Hope

The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof.

Humanity

Oppression involves a failure in the imagination. A failure to imagine the full humanity of other human beings.

Joy

Life will bring you pain all by itself. Your responsibility is to create joy.

Kindness

Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier.

Life

You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing, and dance, and write poems, and suffer, and understand, for all that is life.

Love

Do everything with so much love in your heart that you would never want to do it any other way.

Nature

The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.

Peace

It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

Reading

That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.

Success

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children... to leave the world a better place... to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Today

Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.

Writing

Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer.

Work

It's what you do that makes your soul.

(NB These are all quotes from some of my favourite writers or thinkers; the only reason I have not credited them in my list is because I know them from memory. They are as follows: Avarice - Anthony J. D'Angelo; Beauty - Scott Westerfield; Begin - Marie Beyon Ray; Career - Harold Whitman; Change - Anne Frank; Cherish - James Allen; Consciousness - Jeff Buckley; Courage - Ralph Waldo Emerson; Decisions - Flora Whittemore; Dreams - W. Clement Stone; Faith - Ralph Waldo Emerson; Freedom - Voltaire; Friendship - Charlotte Lunsford; Hope - Barbara Kingsolver; Humanity - Margaret Atwood; Joy - Milton Erickson; Kindness - Mother Teresa; Life - Jiddu Krishnamurti; Love - Yogi Desai; Nature - Anne Frank; Peace - Chuck Palahniuk; Reading - Scott F. Fitzgerald; Success - Ralph Waldo Emerson; Today - Siddhārtha Gautama; Writing - Barbara Kingsolver; Work - Barbara Kingsolver.)

red lights

I think everybody must have experienced a "red light", somewhere along the line. Or is it just me? A "red light" is when you are gliding - or maybe, to put it more aptly, sliding - along, going about your day-to-day life, thinking that everything is okay... when something hits you over the head and makes you realise that it's not. You are not the person you want to be, and your life is not the life you want it to be. You have gone awry. You are lost. So you stop still, at the red light, and wonder what on earth to do next.

For me, life can sometimes take on the form of an imperceptible avalanche, gradually gathering speed. You see, I have these wild and wonderful ideas about what I want for myself. I know exactly what I want to achieve in my life, how I want my days to unfold, what I want to learn, the kind of food I want to eat, the books I want to read. The problem is that, as firm as my convictions may be, a lot of those fantasies fall by the wayside. So why keep at it? Why do I envision these goals and dream of my "ideal" lifestyle, if it rarely comes to anything?

To tell the truth, I don't know how to answer that question. Nevertheless, I do think that goals are essential. The business, stress and temptations we are faced with every single day make it so easy for us to lose sight of where we want to go. A streamlined vision gives us parameters. It helps to convince us to prune our lives, figure out where we are going wrong, and keep improving. Because it's when those parameters are stretched too wide that we veer off course, and we become more and more lenient with ourselves... until we get to a point where we sit back and think, "Where am I? This is so far from where I want to be that it's not funny!"

Maybe it is a dead-end job, a stale relationship, hurtful friendships, hours wasted online and watching TV, staying home instead of going out, buying food instead of cooking it, sitting on the couch instead of going for a walk, sleeping in instead of waking up early... At the time, we think these things make us happy. Or, at least, comfortable. But they don't, really. It makes us feel disappointed with ourselves, in the broad scheme of things. We are truly happy with ourselves when we uphold a semblance of discipline, particularly when we reap the rewards later. It's not that we should not take a break every now and then, indulge when we need  a pick-me-up, be kind to ourselves when we fail to live up to own own expectations... that is all really, really important. But we need to take charge of our own lives, and create a life that we can be proud of. Achieve amazing things. Go beyond what we think we can do. We need to be able to look back, pat ourselves on the back and say, "Wow! You did a good job".

So I guess the moral of this post is... dream. Set goals. Reassure yourself. Know what you want. Wish. I don't have much advice for how to get to those dreams. But I think the dream itself is important. You may have already guessed that I have recently hit one of those red lights I mentioned earlier. Which is a good thing, because I am determined to make some changes. (And when I say make some changes, I mean actually make them, not just plan to make them...) Stay tuned!

"If you want to make your dreams come true, the first thing you have to do is wake up."

— J.M Powers

some thoughts on writing

At present, I'm writing a little review of Eat Pray Love, the movie, which should be up in a week or so. In the meantime, I was perusing Elizabeth Gilbert's website for some research material and came across "Some Thoughts on Writing" - Liz's sage advice for aspiring writers, which I think would also apply (at least partially) to bloggers, artists, and perhaps anybody striving to achieve what seems like a far-off dream...

... I believe that – if you are serious about a life of writing, or indeed about any creative form of expression – that you should take on this work like a holy calling. I became a writer the way other people become monks or nuns. I made a vow to writing, very young. I became Bride-of-Writing. I was writing’s most devotional handmaiden. I built my entire life around writing. I didn’t know how else to do this. I didn’t know anyone who had ever become a writer. I had no, as they say, connections. I had no clues. I just began.

... I created my own post-graduate writing program, which entailed several years spent traveling around the country and world, taking jobs at bars and restaurants and ranches, listening to how people spoke, collecting experiences and writing constantly. My life probably looked disordered to observers (not that anyone was observing it that closely) but my travels were a very deliberate effort to learn as much as I could about life, expressly so that I could write about it.

... Send your work off to editors and agents as much as possible, show it to your neighbors, plaster it on the walls of the bus stops – just don’t sit on your work and suffocate it. At least try. And when the powers-that-be send you back your manuscript (and they will), take a deep breath and try again. I often hear people say, “I’m not good enough yet to be published.” That’s quite possible. Probable, even. All I’m saying is: Let someone else decide that. Magazines, editors, agents – they all employ young people making $22,000 a year whose job it is to read through piles of manuscripts and send you back letters telling you that you aren’t good enough yet: LET THEM DO IT. Don’t pre-reject yourself. That’s their job, not yours. Your job is only to write your heart out, and let destiny take care of the rest.

... As for discipline – it’s important, but sort of over-rated. The more important virtue for a writer, I believe, is self-forgiveness... Continuing to write after that heartache of disappointment doesn’t take only discipline, but also self-forgiveness (which comes from a place of kind and encouraging and motherly love). 

...  Always, at the end of the day, the important thing is only and always that: Get back to work. This is a path for the courageous and the faithful. You must find another reason to work, other than the desire for success or recognition. It must come from another place.

... Writing is not like dancing or modeling; it’s not something where – if you missed it by age 19 – you’re finished. It’s never too late. Your writing will only get better as you get older and wiser. If you write something beautiful and important, and the right person somehow discovers it, they will clear room for you on the bookshelves of the world – at any age. At least try.

... Everyone I know who managed to become a writer did it differently – sometimes radically differently. Try all the ways, I guess. Becoming a published writer is sort of like trying to find a cheap apartment in New York City: it’s impossible. And yet…every single day, somebody manages to find a cheap apartment in New York City. I can’t tell you how to do it. I’m still not even entirely sure how I did it. I can only tell you – through my own example – that it can be done. I once found a cheap apartment in Manhattan. And I also became a writer.

... My suggestion is that you start with the love and then work very hard and try to let go of the results. Cast out your will, and then cut the line. 

... If you decide to write, then you must do it, as Balzac said, “like a miner buried under a fallen roof.” Become a knight, a force of diligence and faith. I don’t know how else to do it except that way. As the great poet Jack Gilbert said once to young writer, when she asked him for advice about her own poems: “Do you have the courage to bring forth this work? The treasures that are hidden inside you are hoping you will say YES." 

To sum it up, I would say that Liz's advice amounts to...

... Write

... Live and breathe writing

... Travel

... Share your writing

... Forgive yourself

... Get back to work

... At least try

And most importantly...

... Your job is only to write your heart out, and let destiny take care of the rest... start with the love and then work very hard and try to let go of the results. Cast out your will, and then cut the line.

I think I can handle that.

(Picture via partytights)

groundhog day

Last week I watched Groundhog Day, for what was probably the trillionth time. It is a really wonderful, classic film.

I guess there is a lot that you can take away from it. The themes are intertwining and ever-lasting: self-improvement, prioritising, generosity, the pursuit of happiness, and all that.

This time, what really spoke to me was, how much we can fit into a day. I mean, if we truly fill our days to the brim, there is so much that we can do and achieve. Every single day is a fresh opportunity to learn something new, initiate a friendship, foster a skill, make a difference in somebody else's life... fall in love. Do something truly great. 

That realisation (or lack thereof) is something I really struggle with. I tend to embroil myself in a downward spiral, day after day, allowing the previous day's mood, worries and ennui to colour what happens the next... rather than nurturing the awareness that everyday is a completely blank slate, yet another chance to start anew (to break through walls we have built around ourselves; to change whatever needs changing; to dream; to take the next step; to cherish the beauty all around us).

“Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.”

— Siddhārtha Gautama

a letter

The other day, I read this lovely post by Gaynor Alder of The Modern Woman's Survival Guide in which she wrote a heartfelt letter to her 16-year-old self. It drew me into a cloud of nostalgia and I took up her invitation to write such a letter to myself at the same age. Here it is, reposted in all its glory...

Dear 16-year-old Me…

Be true to yourself.

Take chances.

Read.

Don’t diet.

Love, 21-year-old Me.

I think those four lines sum everything up perfectly... there's not much else to say. Life is simple really, when you think about it. Of course, that's easy to say when you're looking back, but not so easy to believe when you're in the midst of it.

P.S. Please spare a few minutes to take a hop, skip and a jump over to Gaynor's riveting travel tale Byron Bay: The Uncut Version... it's truly brilliant. 

the searchers

"I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves."

— James Kavanaugh (There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves)

the infinite abyss

I am a bit of a nerd. A soul nerd. But also a story nerd. One of the things I do for fun is track down and read the original scripts of my favourite movies, trying to find the true heart behind the story, which is often hidden within the polish of the finished product. They are pretty easy to find (all you need is a little Google sleuthing) and it is fascinating to get an idea of how the draft was moulded and amended to create a profitable film. Plus, it's great practice for writing the Oscar-winning screenplay based upon my Man Booker Prize-winning novel. (Just kidding.)

I watched Garden State when it was first released. I loved it right away, and it has since been one of my favourite movies. There is something refreshingly awkward about it. I like that it's not a perfectly flowing film. I like the often jarring, messy dialogue, peppered with moments of hilarity. I think that has something to do with the writer taking the role of the director and the lead actor. The fact that Zach Braff's protagonist, Large, is not the cookie-cutter Hollywood heartthrob but, rather, a confused, floppy haired "soul nerd" with a dopey expression plastered onto his face, is endearing. And, of course, nobody can help but fall head over heels in love with the adorable pathological liar, Sam, beautifully played by Natalie Portman. (That said, Rachel Hills writes a brilliant article on her character, as well as Kirsten Dunst's Claire in Elizabethtown, being "the alternative flat female fantasy".)

The funny thing is that I think I only just "got" Garden State. Only after watching it again, for the first time in about a year, and reading the original script, equipped with my present whimsy-ness and disillusionment, have I finally grasped the message that Zach was trying to portray. I mean, I have always appreciated the film, even when I watched it for the first time at the age of 15. But, oddly enough, I had never really understood it before now. Which I think is an accomplishment, on Zach's part, to create a film which somebody can enjoy without absorbing it at all. It shows how multi-layered and universal it is. 

One of the analogies I have only just fully identified with is The Infinite Abyss. For those of you who don't know or don't remember, Large (Zach), Sam (Natalie) and Mark (Peter Sarsgaard) go on a little adventure towards the end of the film, trying to track down a momento (I won't spoil it). Their ultimate destination is a natural phemonenon, a huge underground crevice in the earth which was discovered during the construction of a new mall. There, they meet a family who live in a makeshift house, a boat on stilts, whose job it is to protect the quarry from the company who still want to build upon it. I guess I just like the idea of doing something completely unique, says Albert, the guardian of the infinite abyss. Something that has never been done before. Afterwards, Large, Sam and Mark stand in the pouring rain, on a tractor, wearing garbage bags, screaming into the chasm. And then Large and Sam kiss, for the first time. I had always disassociated myself from that moment, thinking that was just weird. But now I get the full picture; which is that the infinite abyss is, of course, life. We think that we are trapped, but we really have all the freedom in the world. And once we know it, we can use it. Tellingly, the film was supposed to be called Large's Ark, but nobody really understood what it meant.

Before this post ends, I just want to address the critics of this film. A lot of people hate it, with a passion. They say it is stupid, pointless, self-indulgent and boring. I won't dispute those reactions; everybody is entitled to their opinion and I don't doubt that they really felt that way about the film. I just wanted to say that I think that idiosyncrasy is what makes a great film, or website, or article, or book, or message. When you are watching or reading or hearing a story, those "aha" moments don't come when you come across an entirely universal, clichéd phrase or moment that you have seen a million times before. Those "shock treatments" occur when you come across something that you were convinced was completely unique to you... but watching or reading the piece makes you realise that, wow, actually, somebody else has had exactly the same thought or experience... isn't that funny? Those touching reactions can only be achieved with heartfelt honesty. They cannot be manufactured. And so, that is why I love films like Garden State. Of course, they are not for everybody. Which is exactly what makes them so special. 

always on the side of the egg

I came across an amazing speech by Haruki Murakami today. Last year, he was awarded the Jerusalem literary prize for the Freedom of the Individual in Society. Pro-Palestinian groups attempted to dissuade him from attending the ceremony, claiming that doing so would demonstrate his support for Israel's role in the Gaza conflict. Murakami considered their argument, but ultimately decided to accept his prize in person. An excerpt of his speech is posted below; you can read the entire piece at Hareetz.

So let me tell you the truth. A fair number of people advised me not to come here to accept the Jerusalem Prize. Some even warned me they would instigate a boycott of my books if I came.

The reason for this, of course, was the fierce battle that was raging in Gaza. The UN reported that more than a thousand people had lost their lives in the blockaded Gaza City, many of them unarmed citizens - children and old people.

Any number of times after receiving notice of the award, I asked myself whether traveling to Israel at a time like this and accepting a literary prize was the proper thing to do, whether this would create the impression that I supported one side in the conflict, that I endorsed the policies of a nation that chose to unleash its overwhelming military power. This is an impression, of course, that I would not wish to give. I do not approve of any war, and I do not support any nation. Neither, of course, do I wish to see my books subjected to a boycott.

Finally, however, after careful consideration, I made up my mind to come here. One reason for my decision was that all too many people advised me not to do it. Perhaps, like many other novelists, I tend to do the exact opposite of what I am told. If people are telling me - and especially if they are warning me - "don't go there," "don't do that," I tend to want to "go there" and "do that." It's in my nature, you might say, as a novelist. Novelists are a special breed. They cannot genuinely trust anything they have not seen with their own eyes or touched with their own hands.

And that is why I am here. I chose to come here rather than stay away. I chose to see for myself rather than not to see. I chose to speak to you rather than to say nothing.

...

Please do, however, allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is something that I always keep in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper and paste it to the wall: Rather, it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something like this:

"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg."

Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will stand with the egg. Someone else will have to decide what is right and what is wrong; perhaps time or history will decide. If there were a novelist who, for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the wall, of what value would such works be?

What is the meaning of this metaphor? In some cases, it is all too simple and clear. Bombers and tanks and rockets and white phosphorus shells are that high, solid wall. The eggs are the unarmed civilians who are crushed and burned and shot by them. This is one meaning of the metaphor.

This is not all, though. It carries a deeper meaning. Think of it this way. Each of us is, more or less, an egg. Each of us is a unique, irreplaceable soul enclosed in a fragile shell. This is true of me, and it is true of each of you. And each of us, to a greater or lesser degree, is confronting a high, solid wall. The wall has a name: It is The System. The System is supposed to protect us, but sometimes it takes on a life of its own, and then it begins to kill us and cause us to kill others - coldly, efficiently, systematically.

I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the dignity of the individual soul to the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a story is to sound an alarm, to keep a light trained on The System in order to prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and demeaning them. I fully believe it is the novelist's job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness of each individual soul by writing stories - stories of life and death, stories of love, stories that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter. This is why we go on, day after day, concocting fictions with utter seriousness.

My father died last year at the age of 90. He was a retired teacher and a part-time Buddhist priest. When he was in graduate school, he was drafted into the army and sent to fight in China. As a child born after the war, I used to see him every morning before breakfast offering up long, deeply-felt prayers at the Buddhist altar in our house. One time I asked him why he did this, and he told me he was praying for the people who had died in the war.

He was praying for all the people who died, he said, both ally and enemy alike. Staring at his back as he knelt at the altar, I seemed to feel the shadow of death hovering around him.

My father died, and with him he took his memories, memories that I can never know. But the presence of death that lurked about him remains in my own memory. It is one of the few things I carry on from him, and one of the most important.

I have only one thing I hope to convey to you today. We are all human beings, individuals transcending nationality and race and religion, fragile eggs faced with a solid wall called The System. To all appearances, we have no hope of winning. The wall is too high, too strong - and too cold. If we have any hope of victory at all, it will have to come from our believing in the utter uniqueness and irreplaceability of our own and others' souls and from the warmth we gain by joining souls together.

Take a moment to think about this. Each of us possesses a tangible, living soul. The System has no such thing. We must not allow The System to exploit us. We must not allow The System to take on a life of its own. The System did not make us: We made The System.

That is all I have to say to you.

I am grateful to have been awarded the Jerusalem Prize. I am grateful that my books are being read by people in many parts of the world. And I am glad to have had the opportunity to speak to you here today.

(Picture via Flora Hanitijo)

decorate your own soul

“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.”

— Veronica A. Shoffstall

the diary of anaïs nin

It was with high hopes that I ordered The Diary of Anaïs Nin Volume 1 (1931-1934) online, and it arrived at my house via airmail just a couple of days ago. I know this may sound soppy and/or presumptuous but, after reading just one chapter, I already know that we are kindred spirits. (Although she is clearly much more eloquent and insightful; she is a literary genius, after all.)

When I look at the large green iron gate from my window it takes on the air of a prison gate. An unjust feeling, since I know I can leave the place whenever I want to, and since I know that human beings place upon an object, or a person, this responsibility of being the obstacle when the obstacle lies always within one's self.

In spite of this knowledge I always stand at the window staring at the large closed iron gate, as if hoping to obtain from the contemplation a reflection of my inner obstacles to a full, open life.

* * *

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe that you are living. Then you read a book (Lady Chatterly, for instance), or you take a trip... and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.

Some never awaken. They are like the people who go to sleep in the snow and never awaken. But I am not in danger because my home, my garden, my beautiful life do not lull me. I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

I think every one of us has experienced the "shock treatment" Anaïs writes of. It is that spark of inspiration we feel when we come across someone or something that simply speaks to our heart. You know, that "ah ha" moment that gives us the impression that we are sharing our lives with others; that we are not the "only one". Sometimes that glimmering revelation reflects our deepest, darkest fears. Other times we are presented with what our lives are missing. Perhaps we may be reminded of the past; a forgotten moment, feeling or hope. These epiphanies shake us to our core, waking us up from the routine of our everyday lives and prompting us to reassess. It may be that we have meandered from our course; it could be that an unrealised dream lies laden within us; we may have lost our spirit; or, alternatively, we are on the right path, but harbour unfounded self-doubts. Whatever it is that we discover, we have been granted the opportunity to resume our lives with a newfound consciousness, afresh.

I am constantly trying to inspire myself; I admit that I have become quite addicted to these "shock treatments". I use this blog to share them with others, though I think it is inevitable that not everybody will relate to everything I post. You know when you read or see or meet somebody or something so profound that you feel compelled to show others, and they just don't respond the same way? I feel as though writing a blog is like that. I really hope that you can see where I am coming from; but if you can't, that is okay. It's not my fault, nor yours. We are just not in the same place, at least not at this moment in time.

You may have already noticed, but just so you know, things that have moved me include Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, Sarah Wilson's blog, Haruki Murakami quotes, (500) Days of Summer, every Missy Higgins song, Benjamin Law's pieces in frankie magazine, Elizabethtown (the fifth time I watched it), Alain de Botton's twitter feed, Barack Obama's speech at the 2008 Democratic National Convention, Begin by Ben Lee, Josh Thomas' comedy shows, Maya Angelou, the Harry Potter series, My So-Called Life, Joshua Radin's music (especially Today, Closer and Winter), Lost in Translation and the Japanese word setsunai, which is "a feeling of sadness and loneliness so powerful that it feels as if your chest is constricted, as if you can't breathe; a sadness that is physical and tangible" (via Leigh Sales' The Beauty of Foreign Words).

"We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past, like ancient stars that have burned out, are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. New styles, new information, new technology, new terminology … But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone."

— Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)

(Picture via The Vault of Beauty)

some food inspiration

As much as I adore beautiful food blogs, I have never harboured much of a desire to join their realm. For one, I am a terrible cook. I am not just being modest - I am truly bad at anything food related. (Kimberley will be able to attest to that, after I took three attempts to heat up her lasagna before my younger brother had to take over.) Secondly, what I actually can cook generally belongs on the "what not to eat" list. Or, I cook relatively healthy meals so badly that they look as though they belongs in that category. Not wonderful material for food inspiration.

Nevertheless, I have decided that I will start writing some food-related posts every now and then. As I have said, I have no special food knowledge or cooking talent that qualifies me to write about food. I have just noticed that the reason I don't take pride in my cooking or choose particularly healthy options is not purely because I have no cooking ability (there may be some, buried deep down inside of me!) It is mainly that I am not inspired or motivated. Every now and then I will read a book, blog post or watch an Oprah episode that persuades me to try a new recipe or two, but, on the whole, I have no desire to make much of an effort. (Living with my parents and having a chef as a boyfriend doesn't help any.) Hopefully, by foraging into the food world via this blog, I can help to inspire you a little and, in turn, I hope that you will inspire me! Please feel free to share any feedback, food knowledge, recipe ideas, your favourite new ingredients, etc in the comments section.

So here are a few things I made today. I did take pictures, but ultimately decided not to post them because they looked utterly unappetising. Thankfully, the sites where I found the recipes have absolutely lovely photos for you to fawn over!

Chile and Lime Roasted Pepitas, via The Brassica Diaries

These are so quick and easy to make, and a delicious snack. I made a bowlful for my family this evening, as a pre-dinner appetiser, and they all disappeared! I will be making some more over the weekend for me to snack upon between meals during my study break next week. Yum.

Homemade Paprika Roast Potato Chips, via The Good Mood Food Blog

I made these for my brothers as an after-school snack today, using a mix of potato and sweet potato (the latter for me, which is nominally healthier). They were very tasty - my brothers even complimented them, which is very rare (considering my cooking prowess). I have to add that Donal, the Irishman who writes this blog, is very cute.

Laura's Summer Juice

This is my own recipe, so it is lucky that this picture did not turn out too badly! My love for juices stems from my years working at a juice bar during high school. After every shift, we would be allowed a free juice, which means that a long, draining day always triggers me to have a craving for juice. This one is all fruit, so more of a treat than an everyday snack. Perfect for hot, summery days.

Half a banana

Two oranges, squeezed

Two strawberries

One teaspoon of chia powder

6 iceblocks

Blend in a blender and voila! One tall glass of delicious, thirst-quenching, pick-me-up juice.

Beauty Food: Eat Well to Look Beautiful by Marie Claire

If you are, like me, in need of some food inspiration, I would highly recommend this book. Since it was commissioned by a magazine which tends to advocate fad diets, I didn't have high expectations when I picked it up at Borders, but it is really good. It consists of scientific, expert advice from world-class nutritionists, shedding light on how to eat well, with practical tips that are easy to implement. The overall message is that we should be eating a balanced, fulfilling diet designed to nourish our bodies, rather than denying ourselves from sustenance with punishing weight-loss regimes and unnatural, processed foods. Overall, a refreshingly positive, educational book about food!

"If we can't, as artists, improve on real life, we should put down our pencils and go bake bread."

— Barbara Kingsolver

the power to imagine better

J.K. Rowling speaks at the Harvard Commencement Ceremony: The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination. It is magic.

(via Harvard Magazine)

10 day cycle

It seems that the 10 Day Cycle has caught on. BelleLumiere, Blue Law by Anna and Sarah Louise are a few bloggers I have noticed taking it up. I would love some feedback on how other people are going, even if you are partaking in the privacy of your own home!

For me, I found that there was something freeing about the fact that my cycle goals were somewhat superficial and on a visual level. Even if nothing else in the week went well, I could still take solace in the fact that I had tried a new recipe, read a fresh book or tried a new makeup look.

This time, however, I'm going to take a different tact. I want to use those "10 days" to explore a new idea, technique or habit and see how it sits. If I love it, then it stays as a permanent fixture in my life... if not, then I can discard it once the cycle is over.

This week, I am entranced by the concept of "everyday". I have been touched often by this idea recently, from different sources but all in the same vein...

• This post-secret:

• Sarah Wilson's column on the secret to happiness, in which she quotes Andy Warhol:
  
  
  “Either once only, or every day. If you do something once it’s exciting, and if you do it every day it’s exciting. But if you do it… almost every day, it’s not good any more.”

• An article I read in the latest RUSSH (still on shelves) by Danielle Top in which she references Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, a guide to embarking on your creative journey and stimulating your creative juices.

So, these are a few things that I want to try to do every single day, for the next 10 days:

• The morning pages Three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning, one of the essential tools of The Artist's Way.
• Make my bed A tip from The Happiness Project's Gretchen Rubin.
• Read a poem From either of my two new books, A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry and Sylvia Plath: Collected Poems. (If you are curious, you can find them both in the widget on the right).
• Drink 2.5L of water From my beloved water filter.
• Exercise No doubt, finding the time to visit the gym everyday will be the hardest of these to abide by, but it is the one I am most committed to! Exercise always makes me feel so much more clear-headed (and self-congratulatory), it really is worth the time and effort.

Now, I have heard different takes on this concept. Some people advocate taking one or two days off a week, or adopting a one week on, one week off strategy, as a means of reinvigorating and inspiring ourselves. I don't think that committing myself to doing these things everyday will impede a designated lazy day or a particularly busy day, but, either way, as Sarah Wilson and Gretchen Rubin say:

“I’ve found it’s easier to do something every day, without exception, than to do something ‘most days’,” [Gretchen] says. “When you say you’ll walk four days a week, you debate which days, whether you can skip Tuesday, etc.”. “Every day” puts the kybosh on such a debilitating debate. It frees you up, while providing satisfaction.

P.S. Here is a shortened list, for old-time's sake.

Book to read:

Sputnick Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

Makeup look:

Rosie Huntington-Whitely (via Primped)

Recipe to try:

Scrambled eggs with turmeric (via Sarah Wilson)