There’s a book that was read to me when I was a wee one and that I read to my wee ones. It is the story of a baby bird, separated from its mama, who wanders around asking everyone and everything he meets – from cows to dogs to kittens to chickens to steamshovels to planes – “Are you my mother?”
It is simple. It is sweet. It is about seeking-and-finding-and-fitting and a little anxiety-inducing on a cosmic level (which is where I like to fly).
I also like ruthless, tender simplicity and efficiency. I’m currently pruning dead wood (and skeletons, same dif) from my garden/closets. Of course, this kind of decluttering is not just about lovers. This is about everything. Time, money, attention, friendship, care.
It is really basic. Love is a compass.
When I’m not sure about a choice, or I’m tempted to make one I’ve resolved to avoid, I (silently) ask that choice or thing or person: Do you love me?
I’m like that little bird looking for its rhetorical mama. I ask it of everyone and everything. No sense imprinting a chicken, kitten or a steam shovel.
I say it to blogs. To restaurants. To vices. To charities. To corporations. To friends and wannabe friends and friends with benefits and lovers and dates and other assorted and sundry relations.
To a blog: do you have my interests at heart? Are you protective of my time and attention? Do you want the best for me? Do you want to amuse or educate me? Or do you just want my credit card number?
To a corporation: Dear McDonalds-as-a-stand-in-for-the-industrial-food-industry, do you love me, and my kids? Do you want to give us the best, most nourishing food and experience you can possibly provide?
It is just a quick question, but it gets at so much. It solidifies the airy sense that I’m a moth fluttering to a flame and makes me think, maybe it is time to be the flame. It amplifies the rumbling-gut feeling that I’m about to do something that’s really not good for me and mine. It gets at The Answer. It gets me to the people and things to whom I ought to give my attention, money and love. Love is a ruthless economy.
Danielle LaPorte advises something similar: whenever you’re feeling pressed about your ‘no’, say it doesn’t feel right to me.
Nobody will contest that.
Or, if someone does, then you know strong and clear and viscerally that this person does not have your interests close to your heart, and you should absolutely, firmly, emphatically and defiantly cling to your no.
No one – no person, no corporation, no industry, no government – who truly loves you asks you to sacrifice or do things that put you, your finances, your family, your self-respect or your well-being in jeopardy.
My kids, for whom I might be tempted to sacrifice any or all of the above -might, maybe, I make no pretence to saintliness - don’t ask me to sacrifice.
And I don’t sacrifice for them. All that is required is chosen. It may spring from an oft-exhausted well, but ‘tired’ is not a sacrifice. It is a commitment that expires and renews, every day.
I’m thinking that sacrifice is bullshit. The world doesn’t need sacrifice. The world needs contribution.
_______________
this is a lesson I learned from my brush with the Very Bad Lying Man.
If you want to know more about THAT story, here it is:
December 2009. The thin line – cleavage, even – between vulnerability as strength and just out-and-out stupidity.
Here are the breadcrumbs. Bits of the Very Bad Lying Man fell into these posts while the un-love story was happening:
August 2009. Vacation. Day 1. I am THAT Scene in When Harry Met Sally, but It Is Real. And Better.
August 2009. On Being a Needy Girlfriend and What IT SHOULD Teach You
August 2009. When Tough Love Turns Poetic. In a blood, guts, and broken-ego kinda way.
September 2009. On Harm, Healing, Ceilings and How Absent Apologies are the Pits – The Sorry Series, #1
September 2009. How To Receive an Apology. How To Accept an Apology. How To Forgive. Or Maybe Not. – The Sorry Series, #4
December 2009. ask and ye shall…well just ask, anyways.
January 2010. I am the female Bluebeard of suburban Vancouver and I am running out of closet space.
February 2010. Love is a Compass.
February 2010. sexifesto
March 2010. butterflies are a drug and I’m in rehab
March 2010. hearsay brilliance: “Only go when the light is green”
Wonderful, inspiring piece, Kelly, that covers a lot of territory. “Cling to your no” is sage advice.
cj
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Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:02 pm
@cjwright, thank you, CJ.
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Positive Mitch
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 7:42 pm
@cjwright, One of the most profound expressions of love I have ever felt was when my girlfriend took two months out of our relationship to be away from me. It let me love her in the way that can feel too painful to speak about.
Yes, I missed her and yearned for her. But at the same time I knew that this space that she asked for from me was sacred, because she is sacred and I love her–and all that means to me is that I want to give her whatever she needs. And when she gives me the chance to honor her “no,” I can truly love. In fact, during those months apart, I felt so in love with her that even as it felt sad to miss her, the sadness felt good. It felt sacred, it felt intimate, it felt right, it felt true. And it actually made it all easier for me.
If someone really loves you, they will honor your “no” like water flowing in a river–naturally, without a second thought. Nobody is perfect, there are rocks in all our streams… but the best ones will have few rocks and the water will just flow.
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I always taught my children that, “I don’t want to,” is the very best reason for not doing something. It may not apply to homework, or doing the dishes–but it works on the bigger stuff.
I also taught them that clearing out the closet–cleaning off the drawing table was the very best way to really see what you want.
Happy February! I’m going to go follow my own advice.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:06 pm
@Julianne Fuchs-Musgrave, I like that. How did you manage to justify the distinction between homework/dishes and big things? My eldest (she’s five) is a philosopher and a questioner. I’m not sure that would fly.
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Wow! The advice in these few paragraphs is amazing. Like CJ, “cling to your no” is amazing. I have never thought of some things this way but will readjust my thinking.
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Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:07 pm
@Nicki, really a gratifying thing to hear from you. Thank you so much.
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I love your writing, and your heart. I don’t always agree with everything you are saying, but I can’t take my eyes off the page until I’m done.
Keep it up.
I enjoy the not-always-agreeing. If I agreed with every bit my eyes could just slide along, with a gentle bzzzzz sound going on in the background. But as it is, I have to actually THINK about it, and assess whether I concur or not. Nothin’ wrong with a little thinking, eh?
And there’s nothing wrong with saying “No.” We women can’t be reminded of that often enough.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:08 pm
@Hilary, I’m so glad you wrote that!I enjoy the not-always-agreeing too, in almost all things. I like a little frission, friction, tension. It makes me think, and I like to think.
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working very hard these days to ‘cling to my no,’ to embrace that if it doesn’t feel right *to* me than it probably isn’t right *for* me.
I can’t stop the thing I most do not want to do – at least not until Dec. 17 2010 – but I can find better, more effecive ways to cling to my ‘no.’
Or in that case, my ‘whatever.’
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The thing about a compass, of course, is that you need to know what True North means.
Luckily, Kelly, Cleavage itself is an exploration of True North – in a very public forum. Thus, we all benefit!
S
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Love the idea of asking a BLOG, “Do you love me?” If, as a blogger, I can sincerely, meaningfully, passionately say, “YES!” then I have succeeded.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:13 pm
@ami | 40daystochange, I’ve been asking it of other blogs, too. My time is even more precious than my money.
[Reply]
Mitch
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 7:34 pm
@Kelly Diels, your blog loves me. I can feel it.
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Love this!
When “pruning” your dead wood, you ask “Do you love me?” — Not “Do I love you?”, which can be tangled with obligations, guilts, shoulds … you know the drill …
I’m in the midst of another excavation. I’m going through another “I’m-cleaning-everything-out-of-my-closets” phase. Your question makes more sense … I’m going to borrow it to see what happens …
Thanks!!!
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“The world doesn’t need sacrifice. The world needs contribution.”
How many times, and in how many ways have I heard that before? And, yet, it is so pertinent to living a happy life!
Thank you.
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How curious.
I was talking to my Mom (!) of all people yesterday about dwelling in love. As a habit, a way of life, a point of view, a means to be a positive contribution.
She’s been to one of my little monthly parties, and met some of the people in my social circle. I told her that my cohosts and I practice this concept as hospitality. All are welcome. Current, future and ex’s. Park your drama at the door. No sniping, cutting or harsh teasing. Just good cheer and good fellowship.
Boswell writes of this extensively with respect to Dr Johnson’s relationships with all manner of people. Johnson most likely had Tourette’s. In the 1700s. He overcame it with love.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 6:11 pm
@Dave Doolin, that is a beautiful way to put it: “dwelling in love”. I like it a lot. I sometimes say that I walk in love, because that (on a good day, most days) is what it feels like to just be in the habit of being open-hearted.
Your parties sound excellent. I’ll watch for my invite.
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Mitch
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 7:33 pm
@Dave Doolin, oh yeah, love can do it all. If you knew who I was as a child and growing up, I would be the last person to love. But here I am, a true lovangelist!
[Reply]
Dave Doolin
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 10:38 pm
@Mitch, it gets better. I wouldn’t go back for anything.
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cjwright
replied:
on February 2nd, 2010 at 3:10 am
@Mitch, Lovangelist sounds like a call we should all answer, a true avocation.
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This is why I vomit in my mouth when I see a person become a true consumer and think that any brand represents them and cares about them. It’s so easy to become saturated by this messaging.
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I remember that book! I used to read through it all the time as a kid.
I definitely agree that love is a compass..we should all follow the things we love. Love should be the guiding force that directs through life.
Excellent post!
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Yes, yes, and yes.
The challenge for is when I am in fierce denial that a thing or a person doesn’t (or can’t) love me back … it is hard to accept that, for me, in a couple of instances specifically. Your words help steel my resolve, though. So, thank you for that.
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Sacrifice sucks. Literally. It sucks the life force, energy and the opportunity cost of contributing something real and vital is prohibitive.
Love, however, does the opposite (wait a minute…does that mean that it “blows”?). And for me, it’s a guiding force that bolsters my yes’s and no’s. A compass, like you said.
You’re good.
[Reply]
Mitch
replied:
on February 1st, 2010 at 7:30 pm
@Tanya Geisler, that’s because love is so abundant in its true form. It is infinite, it expands as you develop it and knead it, like dough… and it gently but firmly pushes you along! Yippeeeee!
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The new year is a great time to clean out the closet, in all aspects. I know that I am right now and it is very liberating. First and foremost there needs to be that desire, and I’m glad you found yours as well.
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Plus, I love your site. I love how you have delicately balanced taboo and acceptable. Very well done.
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Your comments on sacrifice echo something I wrote about how unconditional love is free of sacrifice. You are absolutely right, and sacrifice models of thinking are responsible for an awful lot of disappointment and agony.
This is right on, Kelly. Keep it up!
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