Vivid Living

I’ve just read a jewel of a book that I want to recommend to women everywhere.  Called Secrets of Powerful Women, the book is a collection of short essays, advice and musings about power – how to seize it, hold it and share it.  The idea was born from the 2008 Democratic and Republican conventions at Lifetime’s Future Frontrunners Summit (which celebrated women’s voices in every corridor).

There are so many wise nuggets from trailblazers of every party, race, class, position and religion – women like Rosario Dawson, Fran Drescher, Andrea Wong, and Martha Bark. They speak candidly about facing fears, acting tough, staying true to your vision, shoring up mentors, and harnessing the power of the petition. As Vivid Living celebrates life in full bloom, thorns and all (look at my tagline), I’m especially drawn to the counsel of Betsy Myers, who served as senior advisor to Barack Obama’s presidential campaign. “Bloom where you are planted,” she says.  Which means strive for excellence where you are; it will gird you for future success.

I’ve decided to pass along my copy to my teenage friends, Maddie and Izzy.  They’re the daughters of my dear friends, Julie and Rick, who, in my view, are doing everything right to raise self-confident, aware, socially conscious young women.  Maddie and Izzy are poised to lead and should reach for the stars.

In the generous spirit of Secrets of Powerful Women, I urge you buy a copy, read it and then share the wealth with a young woman on the cusp of adulthood.

Only by fanning the fires of powerful women far and wide are we likely to shatter “those 18 million cracks in the glass ceiling” that Hilary Clinton famously intoned during her failed bid for President in 2008.

By the way, proceeds from the book benefit the White House Project, a leading voice for women’s leadership founded by the extraordinary Marie Wilson.

A new friend recently celebrated her 40^th birthday.  Happy Birthday Mary! Her big day brought me back in time to my own 40^th birthday, and to reflecting more broadly about markers.

Here’s what I wrote in an essay for Woman’s Day in May. “I had always loved the mountains, and moving to Colorado meant moving toward life, committing to a future that had once seemed impossible to grasp. I was about to turn 40. If not now, when?”

That mantra, If not now, when?, became as vital to me as food.  The more I breathed those words, the more they sustained me; through them, I came to feel the power of instinct and passion and faith.

Anniversaries, holidays and zero birthdays ought to be commemorated, sometimes in ways that prod us in new directions. So, too, should less formal rites, like the start of a new semester at school, finishing a blog post or purging a closet (which reminds me….) Why not allow the ordinary to feel extraordinary? Why not celebrate simple pleasures?

Tonight I’m taking Steve out to celebrate his new job.

How might you begin to see the gift of everyday as cause of celebration?

My sister-in-law, Marcy, celebrated her fourth wedding anniversary two days ago. Congratulations Marcy and Jaime!   The event, like any milestone, got me thinking about the passage of  time.

Four years ago: September 3, 2005.  Chief justice of the United States, William Rehnquist, died after a long battle with thyroid cancer and the nation was still reeling from the catastrophic destruction and loss of lives wrought by Hurricane Katrina http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Katrina.  More personally, I was living in New York City with my four-year-old twins and had been widowed 19 months.  Yep,  I was still in my 30’s (okay, late 30’s).   I remember the day well.  Marcy picked out a long, black “va-va-voom” dress for me to wear.  She wanted me to look and feel good, and I have to admit, I got a lot of  continued mileage out of that babe-alicious dress in the years to come.   The wedding was held at Whitby Castle, a gorgeous outdoor mansion in Westchester County, New York.   Those of us in the bridal party decorated Jaime’s hunter green triumph – a car he built himself as a teenager – with bagels and empty cans of tomato sauce.  

Just Married!

The wedding for me was bittersweet.  Joyous, yes, because finally Marcy and Jaime walked down the aisle. And how wonderful it felt to celebrate a happy occasion after the anguish of the past six years.  Which leads me to the sad part: Brett, Marcy’s only sibling, died before seeing she and Jaime tie the knot.  No doubt, he was right there in spirit, smiling. 

I remember being pretty off-kilter that day.  My identity as a WIDOW felt branded like a black mark across my forehead and I wasn’t yet able to give myself permission to remove it.   No one else could read my insides, but to me, the mask was as visible as my stunning dress.  The loss still felt raw. And yet, enough time had passed for me to have the urge to feel alive again, to feel young and vital and attractive and hopeful.  I wanted to want a future.   Yes, I wanted to dance and flirt with the cute firefighters who were inappropriately young.   Thank goodness for The Black Eyed Peas – My Humps and its funky beat got my juices flowing again. 

Much has changed over these last four years.   Marcy and Jaime have a beautiful son, Brayden, who turns three this month. My twins and I are now living in Denver.  My children are eight years old and real people, no longer babies! I remarried.  I have two teenage stepsons. And far too many family members and family friends have died.  We can never replace lost loved ones; their absence looms large, always.  

I’m reminded of a favorite quote in my office from the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood:  ”I will always love you, Vivi,” he said.  ”There is nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.”  The words shot through Vivi’s bones and blood and muscle, and her body relaxed, so that when her feet touched the ground they met the earth differently, as though they had found roots that reached deep down and anchored to something tender and undamaged.

We’ve got to honor the passage of time and all that it holds. Whether that means being truthful, stoic, heroic, flippin’ mad, sad, ecstatic or tentative, embracing the markers in our lives allow us to live more completely.  Cheers!