Live Out Loud by Maria Shriver

   

Magic is in the air

This newsletter from Maria Shriver touched me. Life is so fleeting and fragile. I don't want to waste a moment of it not "living out loud," not living in a constant state of gratitude for this gift of life. May 2023 bring you your heart's desire.

Live Out Loud

By Maria Shriver January 07, 2023

I've Been Thinking...

Happy new year, my friends! Happy, happy new year!

I hope you are doing well, that you had a restful and reflective holiday break, and that you have entered this new year feeling good about the days ahead. As for me, I have entered 2023 with a renewed passion for life. I am determined to feel alive, live out loud, and make the most out of every day and every relationship that I have.

I’m feeling this way in part because between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day, I lost three good friends. Three.

Yesterday, I gave a eulogy for my friend Nick. Nick was a year younger than me and he loved life. He loved his big family, his friends, his work, and his relationship with his God. And even though he was battling pancreatic cancer, he was determined to live.

Nick did everything he could to prolong his life, and the last few words he said to me were these: “I have so much more to do, so much more to live for. This cannot be happening to me now. Not now.”

I really had no words, so I spoke about my love for him. I recounted all the amazing experiences we had shared, and I thanked him for always making me feel beautiful (Nick was an extraordinary hairdresser, but when you sat in his chair, he was also a motivator and an inspiring spiritual presence and guide).

Nick was an artist, a brother, a dedicated son, and a self-made man. He died with some of his dreams realized, but he had many more he still wanted to fulfill. My heart broke for him that he wouldn’t get the chance to live and see them through.

My friends, now is all we have. Today, right now. So in honor of all those who don’t get the chance to live, let us all commit to living. Let’s all commit ourselves to the lives we are lucky enough to have right now.

Over the holidays I played this game with my granddaughter where I drew pictures for her on a tablet. When I finished, she marveled at it and then pressed a button on the bottom and yelled, “I’m clearing it away!” Then poof, the picture was gone.

“Again, Mama G! Again!” she said to me.

I thought this was a great metaphor for life. Press the button and clear away that which does not serve you. Clear away the baggage that you’ve carried to this moment. Clear away anything and everything that drags you down, belittles you, shames you, or makes you feel as if you don’t belong here. Clear it and poof, let it go.

In this new year, we all have a clear canvas. We all get to choose to live big or small. We get to choose to be of service to our fellow human beings and our country, or to sit back and complain on the sidelines.

I’m feeling a lot of clarity right now. I went into this year feeling more optimistic than in years’ past. I feel lighter, more hopeful, and more determined to live big, experience some magic, and root for others and myself. Yes, all of that and more.

I’ve worked hard on myself these past many years. I’ve worked hard on my relationships to make sure that I didn’t leave things unsaid. I wanted to make sure that I could do all I could to make sure those I loved knew it. I wanted to resolve things that needed to be resolved.

Losing three friends back to back to back and spending time with others in the homestretch of their lives has made me wake up to the reality that this is it. I’ve always known that this life wasn’t a dress rehearsal, but if I’m honest, I didn’t live accordingly. Now I’m going to. I must.

For Christmas, I gave my kids things I owned and loved right off my shelf. My belongings went into their homes and, hopefully, into their hearts. I also tried to take compliments out of my heart and give them to people who have made me feel loved and who have walked alongside me. There’s no time like right now to tell others what you see in them and how they have made you feel. It’s no time to be stingy or selfish.

Speak and share love with abandon. Who cares if your friends do better than you? I don’t. I want to cheer them forward. Who cares about that slight from years ago? Life is too short. Let it go, make amends, and forgive. Treat others as you want to be treated. Time is short. You and I are alive, and we are the lucky ones. We made it here. We can choose to look ahead, to live out loud, and to fully embrace what it means to be alive, or we can choose not to do those things.

That’s my wish for myself and it’s my wish for you. It feels good to be optimistic and to leave things that weigh us down in the past. I’m embracing my magnificence and my magic. Yes, I am. I’m choosing to live in my power, not shrink from it. I’m choosing to stand in my light and not veer towards the darkness. I’m choosing to be hopeful about my own journey and the future of my country. I’m choosing to look for the good in others. I’m hopeful they will return the kindness, but even if they don’t, I will move forward with my intention.

I know there are terrible, challenging problems in our world right now, and I know many are pessimistic about the state of our country and its future. I know many of those I love, and also those I don’t even know, are struggling to get by every single day. Their minds don’t give them a break. Their lives feel heavy and dark. That’s all the more reason that those of us who have been there and have found our way forward must shout from the mountaintops that light is around the corner. We must let each other know that all of us can make our world better and that each of us is needed in a deep and meaningful way.

****

There is a bit more to her newsletter, but this is the part I wanted to share, the part I want to live.

Love Letter to My Life #54: Inching into Wonderland

(We know the day we were born, but most of us do not know the day we will die. This love letter to my life is written on the day I've designated as my death day: the 17th of every month, and reminds me to be grateful for my joy-filled life.  Joyce Wycoff) 

Inching into Wonderland

   At the end of 2021, my birthday post came as I was living in two RVs (summer on a Northern California Lake and winter in the mountains east of San Diego), I wrote:

   As 2021 winds down, I want to follow my own internal music, being in harmony and grateful for everything that comes my way, for all that I learn and create, for all the people I connect with, and all the ways I share what I’ve picked up along the way. I want to do more joyful things, feel more joy, share more joy, and help this beleaguered world heal its divisions by nurturing the joy surrounding us.

All of this brought me to my aspiration for 2022: 

Just for Joy

 The prior year, 2020, was a tumultuous year when I had moved and contemplated moving way too many times, my year end plea concluded:  Dear 2021 ... it would be perfectly fine with me if we made it through the year without moving. Just saying.

While I made it through 2021 without a move, unsurprisingly 2022 involved a major reshift-everything move. This time back to the place that calls itself "home." I would be happy to deem this my frog home ... where I'll be till I croak ... however, I've lived long enough to know that I'm not in control of my destiny so I'll just love it thoroughly as long as I can.

However, I do want to continue the pattern of setting an aspiration for the new year.

The end of 2022 comes with a new journey, a new adventure in the growing older part of life. It's not a grand scheme or a Guinness World Records book candidate, but it could be scary and require a bit of courage. A friend and I have embarked on The Hero's Journey of personal and spiritual growth. We have only the faintest idea what this means, but intend to follow our guide Joseph Campbell, and the map as much as possible. Therefore, my aspiration for 2023, as we follow The Hero's Journey path is to:

Inch into Wonderland

Here's a map we like and the movie that inspired this journey in case you feel inspired to begin your own journey.

More here.

Watch: Finding Joe

Art Gallery: Organics Collection

 

Beauty Survives

Most of my art begins with wandering. Walking through forests and parks, around neighborhoods or lagoons, or just anywhere where beauty lurks. Often what I find needs little more than a frame.

Sometimes though it wants to play and demands more attention.

Visiting Grace

Here is an interactive vignette of my Organics Collection. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

Love Letter to My Life #53: I've decided to own my life

Catching sunset

(We know the day we were born, but most of us do not know the day we will die. This love letter to my life is written on the day I've designated as my death day: the 17th of every month, and reminds me to be grateful for my joy-filled life.  Joyce Wycoff)  

 I’ve decided to own my life.

To walk through my remaining years 
skipping this way and that. 
I’ve spent too long renting space, 
fearing eviction, 
following the arbitrary rules 
of a righteous landlord. 

And who is this would-be 
controller of my world? 
That’s a bit of a rub — 
I see him in my mirror, 
hear his voice in my head, 
feel the floor boards shutter 
as he stomps down the hall 
to demand his due. 

But, I’m no longer there. 
I’ve moved out, 
without notice … just gone
to that lovely cliff overlooking the sea, 
watching waves roll in, 
listening to the stories 
they bring from lands afar. 
Free to sit all day 
crocheting finger puppets 
and dancing to the tune 
of the shimmering lights. 

Join me if you like.
***

Seventeen days ago, there was a tremor, probably only a 3 on the Richter scale. Nothing fell off the walls; no new cracks in the sidewalk. But, something shifted. Somewhere near my breast bone, I felt a loosening, a lightness entering, ushering in the words above.

During a small retreat of about forty people, questions appeared, prompting new thoughts. Songs invited misinterpretations that turned into insights. Resistance morphed into wonderings.

Two words followed me home and asked for lodging. I couldn’t say “no” … they were so small and wanted nothing more than a place to rest.

The next day when I awoke, they had rearranged the furniture.

Gratitude Mojo: How can you boost your confidence?

What do you want to accomplish this week?

Is it a stretch for you?

If it is, you may need an extra dose of confidence.

Here's a magic formula:

Reflecting on your past successes boosts confidence;

confidence boosts energy and motivation;

energy and motivation boost life and success.

Period.

Recently CampReinvention.com caught my attention with their tagline: Because your age is just a number. They help women over 50 reinvent their lives and I loved this quote about how our brains work:

When you’re reinventing, there are three important things to remember about your brain:

1. It has a negativity bias

2. It seeks evidence

3. It makes up stories

That may sound daunting, but it actually contains the keys to greater success if we understand how to work with our brains rather than against them.

For more about how to boost your confidence,

please go to

 GratitudeMojo.substack.com

and don't forget to subscribe (it's free) 

so you don't miss future posts on how gratitude

can guide you to a better life.

Sweet Peace #44: Saved by Stickers

Sweet Peace began in January of this year as a 52-week commitment to finding peace with food and body and has gradually expanded to include all aspects of my life. 

Along with it came a small, black journal. I have never been good at journaling and trailing behind me is a long line of unsatisfactory, half-filled journals of various sizes and shapes. 

However, here I was, trying again, filling the early pages with diary entries about food, energy, slips and successes, and starting overs. Boring!

Heart stickers were my first breakthrough. Putting one on a page somehow changed the writing, invited feeling words. Of course, at the same time, I was using the Gratitude Mojo journal, practicing gratitude, answering questions, stretching in new ways. However, it was in this small, black journal that the stickers screamed to life. Soon they were all over the pages.

Next came colored markers for highlighting, color coding, doodling. Suddenly, the journal was safe and journaling was fun. I began to play and even think of my journal as a friend, a friend who listened to whatever I wanted to say, without judgment.

I believe in the past 43 weeks I have truly become a journaler and it is bringing me peace.

Below is a page from a day when I needed a sticker break.

NOTE:  Sweet Peace will be moving to my Substack newsletter soon.

It will still be free and you can subscribe at https://gratitudemojo.substack.com/about.

Love Letter to My Life #52: Pollyanna Skeptic in the Laundry Room

Found on campus

(We know the day we were born, but most of us do not know the day we will die. This love letter to my life is written on the day I've designated as my death day: the 17th of every month, and reminds me to be grateful for my joy-filled life.  Joyce Wycoff)    

Occasionally, there is a golden moment when a major project begins to wind down and no other project stands in line demanding attention. It is a sweetly quiet time where possibility stretches to the far horizon and idea waves break gently on the shore. 

Small tasks have moved forward slowly on a long turned-off conveyor belt of shoulds. The printer is finally unboxed, the in-basket of bills and trivia are filed or tossed, the dust-bunnies routed from under the bed, and, yesterday morning, the overdue laundry finally advanced to the laundry room.

It was quiet there, only one other person who seemed as loathe to break the morning silence as I. After pushing all the buttons to start the machinery, I sat down with coffee and journal and began to pick up threads from times gone by. Ideas that came and went; people once here and now not; plans, big and small, some done, some dropped.

In the midst of this quiet reflection, a question plopped into the pool: Why are we here? Followed by: What’s next? Not in the sense of what’s my next project, but in what’s next after this life? I thought about that a lot when I was a kid and concluded that heaven was a good idea although it sounded a bit boring floating around on a cloud, singing hosannahs.

As a lonely, only child, I was attracted to church even though my immediate family did not attend; that’s where the kids were. At a tent revival meeting, I heard a preacher say something that has stuck with me all these years: science and religion are not in conflict; it’s only the interpretation of them that differs. 

Over time, I’ve remained fascinated by the relationship of science and spirituality, however, the question of afterlife slipped to the back of the line, deemed unknowable and not important for now, hovering for some quiet moment in the future. Apparently that moment was yesterday, when nothing else was clamoring for attention. And, as books are wont to do, one showed up just this week: new but waving a flag from before. An update on a story unfinished.

In 2008, a neurosurgeon was struck by a bacterial brain infection and, within hours, was in a deep coma, where he stayed for a week before making a complete recovery. He returned with a tale of a stunning and baffling journey. Dr. Eben Alexander described his story in his best-selling book: Proof of Heaven: a Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife.

The story captivated me with its compelling description and promise of unconditional, universal love, and the interconnection of all life. I wound up filing it on the “I wonder?” shelf. Now he’s back with another book with a high-powered array of scientific-sounding cover quotes. So, I plunged into Living in a Mindful Universe, a Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Heart of Consciousness with great hope and anticipation.

Since science hasn’t been able to find a fixed location in the brain for either memory or consciousness, both have been handed off to the less definable category of “mind,” where, of course, things are much fuzzier. Alexander’s journey is an example of walking on the fuzzy side, a beautiful and hopeful side. 

I watched a couple of YouTubes which present the same story with tones of awe and wonder, and then pulled myself into amazon reviews, hoping for more confirmation. I start with the 1-star reviews, as usual, expecting the standard fare of irrelevant issues and sour grapes. Instead, I find serious debunking. Moving to the 5s, I find serious rhapsodies, most pointing to his credibility as a neurosurgeon, a man of science. 

The debunking reviews led me to an Esquire story by Luke Dittrich titled “The Prophet,” (link below) which is where the whole tale fell apart. With the amazon reviews, I began to question the story; with the Esquire story, I began to question myself. 

What I learned about myself through this brief journey was that I have a marked bias toward the positive. I want to believe in goodness and miracles (the everyday type), and that we live in a beneficent Universe. I hold onto these beliefs in good times and challenging ones and believe that, overall, they make my life better. 

Fortunately, I also believe firmly in science and truth and the process of looking into things which seem too good to be true. I want to share and spread good news, but only if it’s true, even if only experientially by a reliable source. 

Perhaps I am a Pollyanna Skeptic.

The Esquire article: https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/interviews/a23248/the-prophet/