The brightest light shining all day was that of the lamp outside my door.
It was cold and misty. And not once did the sun peep through the heavy blanket of clouds to holler at us. It was definitely a Monday.
The kind of Monday where you look at your life in calendar form and you say, "Oh, wait. There are way too many days in a week, but too little hours in a day."
Ever feel that way?
If you have ever spent a lot of time with me, you probably know two things about me. (1) Is I am deathly afraid of talking in front of large groups, despite the fact that I am extrovert. I openly discuss my fear and I gladly make fun of myself for my stuttering and pointless ramblings that occur when I talk. And (2) That my dream job would consist of me motivating others and that my one wish in life is that I could be a motivational speaker.
Pause here for a funny motivational moment (or 5) brought to you by Saturday Night Live and the hilarious, Chris Farley.
Ok. Back to being serious.
I've been thinking a lot about motivation recently. What motivates someone? What keeps them motivated? How can I be there to motivate someone even if I don't exactly know everything about them?
I guess for me, I am motivated by people. I feed off people's energy. I feed off of light that radiates from the world we live in. And I very much want to be a source of light for others.
Don't get me wrong. I am not always motivated. In fact, I find myself being just the opposite on eerie days like today. Days when I am cooped up sending e-mails and watching as to-do lists turn into to-do books. It's totally easy to feel lost in a constant motion. You can feel like you're going through the motions, but having little to no feelings to go along with those motions.
A couple years ago, my dad sent me this poem and I often look at it as a source of motivation.
The Invitation
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to
be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to
be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
The point of the poem is that the shell of our lives--the meaningless motions we go through each day-- aren't important compared to the part of our lives that consist of our passions and things we ache to accomplish within our lives.
We should make those achings--those passions-- the source of our motivation today and everyday. Easier said than done. But totally doable.
What's motivating me today?
This video by a Kid-Co Captain:
Friends in the office today who can handle me being silly.
This song:
I wish you all motivating weeks!
Happy Monday,
Carrie
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