|UK Vogue April 2013|
I can creatively visualize with the best of them, but if I don't move on the notion or idea or plan, it ain't gonna happen. Hence the expression: all talk and no action.
I was just talking about this to my sister who has a stepson who spends a lot of time, two years actually, sitting in the basement wondering what he's going to do when he grows up. He's enrolled in college, sort of. I think that he might be taking 1 or 2 classes a semester. He spends that time gripped in the decision of a major. Well, that boy is going to be sitting there for a long time if this is his strategy. My sister knows this too, and has tried to encourage him to 'just pick something.' It may not be what he will end up doing for the rest of his life, but it will get him out of that basement and on a path toward something. Who knows? He might find something that he would have never thought to do before.
There are limits to this thinking, naturally. I have found that if the only person that I'm calling on is me, it's going to be okay. It's when the vision involves someone else that the same result is not as certain. What am I talking about? The vision board. A few years back, a woman that I work with who believes wholeheartedly in vision boards convinced me to make one for a particular reason ... to envision a man. Oh, that's a sticky wicked. It just doesn't make any sense now that I think of it. I liked putting the board together. I cut out beautiful pictures of dresses and country homes and a beautiful diamond ring and a handsome man. Yeah, well, after 3 years ... I'm no closer to what I've been trying so hard to creatively visualize. Of course I had a particular man in mind. I'm not thinking that one is just going to fall from Heaven into my life beside me. But he wasn't a magic man ...
On the same note ... a few years ago, I read in Glamour magazine that if a woman hangs a St. Anthony of Padua medal on her bed post, a man would come. I loved the idea, and bought three. I threaded a beautiful ribbon through, and gave them to my sister, a friend, and myself for Valentine's Day. Well, the ribbon got dusty. A couple men came through, but no one stayed. I was done with it and decided to give it back to the Virgin Mary. At the time, I was visiting a church every day with someone who had a lot of praying to do. I enjoyed going along as the church had beautiful stained glass windows, and there is something about the smell of incense in the air that is ... comforting. The church was also chockfull of statues and kneelers. I like the pause a kneeler allows, and one Mary in particular drew me to her. When I was done with the St. Anthony of Padua medal, I marched to that church and left it there with Mary. I told her that I didn't want it! The thing is, every time that I went back, it was still there. That doesn't seem so remarkable, except for the fact that the church was a busy one and the gifts left at all of the altars were swept out weekly. But there St. Anthony stayed. My sister didn't believe it, so on a Saturday we went there and ran into .... a wedding. How strange. And St. Anthony presided over it. After the wedding, we crossed the street and drank margaritas. The medal finally was gone several weeks later. Maybe Mary didn't want me to give up ... I don't know.
But what I do know is that if it has anything to do with me, little ole me, I'm going to march on and get it done. I don't live a big life, but in the life I live, I like to think that I can make big things happen because I move toward it.