What's your mantra?

Do you have sayings that you come back to, over and over again?  Words of wisdom from your own intuition (or what Emerson might call the Divine Spark) or from others, who might be friends, teachers, songwriters, or comedians? 

One friend of mine, when she went through a heartwrenching divorce, used the words “grace and dignity” to hold herself together.  I wanted to bang her ex over the head with a snow shovel (one of the old-fashioned ones with a metal scoop, not the new-fangled plastic kind), or at least say nasty things to him.  But she gave me the example of acceptance and moving on, so I felt like I had to as well.

Another friend who took on the huge commitment of a 500 hour yoga teacher training, while being a wife, mom to two pre-K kids, a small business owner, and consultant, used the word “Devotion.”  She even wrote it on her hands during those long weekends so she would not lose her sense of dedication.  It was important to her that she engage in such a life-altering commitment in a full-hearted way. 

Unlike my friends, I have been unable to settle on just one mantra.  These pictures are from around my desk, and I also have what I fondly call “the mantra envelope” where I put old mantras.  I used to type them up in big letters, but now I just scrawl them on orange stickies and tape them to my desk lamp. 

The latest is actually a question.  I was driving to a school to conduct some field observations and it was the first day.  Stuck in traffic on I-195 at 8:30 a.m., I could feel myself getting impatient about being there on time.  I despise being late.  It makes me feel self-conscious and as if I am taking more space than I should.  I have skipped classes as a student and meetings as a grownup because I did not want to walk in late and call attention to myself. 

In the car that day, I heard a voice ask, “Why are you in such a hurry?” 

The other voices in my head could have come up with a million reasons, and then I realized that there was no need to rush, whether in actuality or in my mind.  Having my heart race out of anxiety was not helpful.  I would get there when I got there.  I was not in charge; this was not my show. 

Sure enough, traffic lightened and I was walking up the steps to the school shortly before 9, when I was due to be there.  A couple of students who were just arriving said to me, “Miss, you’re late!”  probably thinking that I was  a teacher.  I signed in, and as I did so, I heard them explain to the office worker that they were late because they had stopped to get a snack.  Luckily, this was not my problem, and I floated down to the classroom where the kids were talking about what it meant to be a warrior.  It was a good morning.

Over the last couple of days, I have asked myself that time and again:  why are you in such a hurry?  When I am eating, working, doing laundry, washing my face, meditating (as if you could rush that), I have paused enough to realize that there is nowhere that important to be, at least not at the expense of my well-being. 

My very first mantra is on display in one of these pictures, but it may not show up because it’s so faded.  I got it from David Robinson, the leader of an NEH Seminar on Emerson, Thoreau, and Margaret Fuller that I was lucky to attend at Oregon State back in 1998.  We were talking about how to make meaning out of the mundane tasks of life, and I, ever the skeptic, asked how it was possible to not just rush through household tasks, like washing the dishes. 

David said, “Make what is necessary in life fulfilling to do.” 

That blew my mind.  I wrote it down in my notebook, and then later wrote it in black Sharpie and put it on the bulletin board of the dorm room to which I had been assigned.  I brought it with me back to Bloomington and put it up in my office there, and now I have it here, in Bristol. 

We all encounter tasks and people in our lives that feel draining and less than worthwhile.  After spending four hours this afternoon answering email and only getting back to Monday of this week, I can attest to that.  But David’s statement reminds me that it’s up to me to decide that all tasks can have meaning.

I would love to see your own mantras or bulletin board pictures if you care to share.