Elizabeth Gilbert's Blog, page 12

A friend of this page named Tracy shared this with me today, and I loved it.

ONWARD!

ps – ELEPHANTS!

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HAPPY MONDAY, DEAR ONES!

OK, so I had a realization recently, which is this:

I have been thinking too small.

I have been aiming too small — if that's even a sensible way of saying it.

I realized this when I was hanging out with an old friend a few weeks ago, and we were talking about our aspirations and goals — where we want to be, how we want to be, who we want to be.

To my surprise, when she asked me to express my biggest dreams about where I wanted to be a year from now, all I could answer was that I wanted to be living in a state of pure and unconditional love for myself and all humanity.

I started talking to her about the two genuinely mystical experiences I've had in my life — moments when the walls of "reality" fell away and suddenly I saw myself, everyone else, and the entire universe for what it is: a divine dance of love.

One of those experiences, I wrote about in EAT PRAY LOVE, when I talked about the feeling of "sitting on the palm of God's hand" in meditation one day.

The other experience was almost a year ago, when — in the midst of a huge burst of angry conflict between me and two friends — I was suddenly overcome by the most peaceful sense of compassion I have ever experienced…overcome by a sense of our oneness, our shared suffering, our shared longing for peace. Right in the middle of the fire of our mutual anger, all I felt was love. Love for them, love for me, love for anyone who is standing in the hell of conflict, suffering.

In both cases (in India, and more recently right here in New Jersey) I floated around the world for a while in a state of pure bliss and love.

In both cases, I could never imagine worrying about anything or ever being angry at anyone again.

In both cases, I felt like, "Existence is so simple, once you get here — to this place of peace and kindness."

…and then it vanished.

And in both cases, after it vanished, I was like, "Oh, well…that was nice, but it can't last, I suppose."

And immediately I went about my mundane life again — getting caught up in dramas, being judgmental, getting mad at myself, getting mad at others, worrying about everything. Because those two golden moments of total peace and comprehension were just impossible divine visitations, right? Even though I would LOVE to live in a state of bliss and compassion and contentment all the time, it isn't possible…right?

But why am I aiming so small?

This is what I asked myself, while I was talking to my friend about my goals. Why have I put this limit on myself — this limit about what my heart is capable of feeling, and for how long?

Why have I committed myself to anything less than total love and harmony?

Why not aim for more than the mundane, the small, the restricted?

Why not aim bigger?

How much work am I willing to do — in terms of prayer and forgiveness and acts of grace — in order to grow my heart to its utmost capacity?

What addictions am I willing to give up (judgment, blame, shame, gossip, panic, drama?) in order to treat myself and others with the highest possible kindness?

Why did I give up so fast on unconditional universal love, once I'd been blessed enough to glimpse it those two times? Was that not an invitation?

Because if unconditional universal love is not worth striving for, then what in heaven IS?

And so…here we are.

It's Monday morning.

I'm hard at work. Living my life, doing my chores, meeting my obligations, cleaning my desk, editing my book, returning emails, etc.

But I'm working hard at something else, too:

BIG-HEARTEDNESS.

I'm working to manifest the biggest big-heartedness I can possibly reach. All the love I can hold, and more. That's what I'm aiming for.

Who's with me?

Is there anything you're aiming too small about?

Anybody ready to reach a little higher?

Anybody have any wisdom on how to do it?

Let's roll.

ONWARD,
LG

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DEAR ONES -

I loved so much reading about (and seeing images of) all your creative projects today. Gave me a thrill to picture all these minds and hands and voices and imaginations across the world, hard at work on the devotional practice of MAKING. So beautiful.

Meanwhile, I took the day off from my normal creative practice (writing) to practice the art of friendship — a slumber party with a beloved old friend, walks and talks, dressing up, laughing, and, of course, experimentation with temporary tattoos. (We elected to put doves over our hearts, and giant bears on our arms….this felt about perfect, for who we aspire to be…)

I feel restored by this day, as if by magic.

I will be back to work tomorrow, but with the heart of a dove and the power of a bear…and the soul-lift that only a golden friendship can provide.

Love to you all, and to all a good night!

LG

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…as were we all!

What's everyone making today?

Do tell!

Heart,
LG

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The WORST, when that happens.

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FRIDAY HOUSEKEEPING!

Dear Ones –

We get a lot of new people joining this Facebook page every day (thank you for joining our little community, new folks!) so once a week, I try to give everyone all the information they might want, about other places on the Internet to find me.

So let’s run down the list:

My website is http://ift.tt/1tJzIxR

You can follow me on Instagram (which I just started because some 14-year-olds told me to) at:

http://ift.tt/1tJzIO7.

You can follow me on Pinterest (that addictive crack house, whose vortex I try not to tumble down too often because it’s a gorgeous suckhole) at: Elizabeth Gilbert - The Official Website | ElizabethGilbert.com.

Goodnight, Dear Ones! And thank you!

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STOP LOOKING AT YOUR PHONES!

This made me laugh. Especially the bit about making a phone pile in the center of the table…

Lovely,
LG

http://bit.ly/1vwRUkp

Stop Looking At Your Phones ('The Britishes')

The Britishes must resist the urge to spend breakfast starting at their (im)mobile devices. See more of "The Britishes" on DirecTV's AUDIENCE Network! See mo…

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DON'T BECOME A MUSEUM TO GRIEF

Dear Ones -

A friend of this page asked if I would re-post this essay I wrote last year about cleaning out your house from sad, stale, negative mementos. So here it is…and this quote below seemed like a good attachment, too!

Here goes:

QUESTION OF THE DAY: Is your home a museum to grief?

About nine years ago, a dear friend called me one morning in a state of joy, to inform me that she had spent all night throwing out old letters, photographs and diaries. She sounded so free and light, it was amazing.

My jaw dropped.

Letters and photographs and diaries???!!! Who throws out letters and photographs? That's the stuff you're supposed to run back into the flaming house to rescue during a fire, right?

But she had thrown away several giant black garbage bags of it, she said. Because many of those letters and photos and journals, it emerged in the conversation, were relics of her sad old failed relationships, or documents of bad times. She had been holding onto them the way we often do — as some sort of dutiful recording of her complete emotional history — but then she said, "I don't want my house to be a museum to grief."

The historian in me balked at the idea of this — you can't throw away letters, photos and diaries!!!

But I took her words to heart. There was something so eloquent and haunting about the phrase "a museum to grief." I couldn't shake the sense that my friend was onto something. I couldn't forget how joyful her voice had sounded. I couldn't stop thinking about what miseries I had stored in my attic, literally hanging over my head.

Later that week, I took a deep breath. Then I took two big black garbage bags and did a MAJOR cleansing. Divorce papers. Angry letters. Tragic diaries of awful times. (YEARS of them: the chronicle of my depression — page after page after page of sorrow and tears.) Vacation photos of friendships now severed. Love letters and gifts from men who had broken my heart. All the accumulated evidences of shame and sadness. All of it: IN THE TRASH.

What was left were only items that made me feel light and lucky and free when I saw them.

That was nine years ago. I have never missed one single piece of it since.

So I ask you — are you holding onto anything that spurs memories of shame, of abandonment, of loss, of sorrow? (I don't mean healthy sorrow, like photos of a beloved friend or relative now deceased. I mean items like the letter where your ex-husband explains to you in careful detail what a loser you are. That kind of stuff.)

Throw it away. Trust me.

IN. THE. TRASH.

Don't be stumbling over your unhappy past every day as you walk through your home.

See what happens when you stop hoarding sorrow. See what space it opens up for new light to come in, and new, happier memories to be born.

Don't be a museum to grief.

ONWARD,
Liz

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TIME TO WRITE!

Dear Ones -

What an autumn it has been. Over the last three months, I've been traveling around North America like a hobo, bouncing from town to town, on the biggest (and sometimes most intimidating) speaking tour of my life.

Last night was my final stop, in Toledo. (THANK YOU, TOLEDO!)

I figured out last night in my hotel room that — over the past three months — I have spoken to over well over 100,000 of you Dear Ones. Thank you for coming out to see me in city after city after city (after city after city….) Thank you for your kindness, and your questions, and your laughter, and your presents, and — most of all — your presence.

Now I'm going home. Not to rest, but to do something much, much better: TO WRITE.

Cuz I got them stars yanking my hair around again.

Love you so.

ONWARD!
LG

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