My Trio of Sheroes

Someone commented recently about heroes and “sheroes” and it got me thinking about mine. There are many people I admire, but when thinking about famous people whom I aspire to be like, I came up with three right off the bat, Martha Beck, Anne Lamott, and Georgia O’Keeffe.

I fell in love with the art of Georgia O’Keeffe when I was a young girl. Then, pretty much like now, I really didn’t know much about art, but her work was the first that really moved me. I can’t draw, so there’s absolutely no endeavoring on my part to emulate her as an artist, but over the years I’ve read a lot about her and I truly admire her spirit as a woman. She was always a bit different, but in spite of pulls to conform, Georgia remained true to herself. For years I yearned to visit her home, Ghost Ranch, in New Mexico. Last fall I finally made the trip. It was fabulous. Even the drive there was incredible. The scenery is spectacular and I crave it still. As I walked around the ranch, I was amazed that it felt at once immense and intimate. I marveled at how challenging life must have been when Georgia moved there 70+ years ago. She was isolated from her friends and family. She had none of the modern comforts. Yet she felt at home there, so there she stayed. Her passion for her work, her absolute need to express herself through her art, was ultimately rewarding, both monetarily and in acclaim, but it cost her a great deal, too. Maybe that’s always the case. Anyway, she was who she was and she never wavered. She motored on even when it was very, very difficult. My favorite Georgia quote is, “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life – and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.” If that’s not heroic, then I don’t know what is.

Martha Beck is the reason I become a Life Coach. Although I’ve come to realize that my mom coached people for years while sitting at our kitchen table. She just didn’t call it that. As far as she was concerned she was just being a good friend, but many people benefited from her ability to truly listen. That’s what coaching is about really, intense listening, and Mom was a champion.

But Martha is the first person I knew of who called it Life Coaching (see www.marthabeck.com). From the first time I read her work, I liked her style and her commitment to helping people. She makes it her business to help others dig through the sludge of fear and doubt that heap onto our truest desires to keep them from bubbling up to the surface. She is a cut-to-the-chase, matter-of-fact sort of woman who, despite incredible obstacles, has evolved into a brand that signifies self-care and self-actualization. I would love to touch and empower even a fraction of the number of people she has.

Finally, Anne Lamott, one of my all time best friends, even though we’ve never met face to face. She lives and writes the way I dream of doing, if only I had her talent, faith and courage! Her life is literally an open book. I guess that’s the reason I feel I know her well enough to call her friend. She is someone with whom I believe I could sit, have a glass of wine, and share anything. The reason for that is that she accepts people, and herself, as they are, unconditionally. She never holds back when spilling the sometimes frightening and hurtful facts about her feelings and actions, but still she manages to love herself. That’s why she leaves her readers feeling loved, too. Her soul-baring work provides comfort by inviting us close to the mirror where in our mind’s eye and ear we can see our reflection next to hers and hear her say, “In spite of it all, we’re okay. I love us.” Annie is all good and knowing that makes me better.

These three women, so different in background and style, are similar in that they have had intense struggles, yet they kept moving forward, sometimes stumbling ahead rather than gliding, but continuing to stride nevertheless. They were at times, devalued, wounded, and held down, but they didn’t quit. Many others, in far less public forums, have that same spirit. As I’ve gotten older (not to say old --- just older!) I’ve come to realize that the spirit of those who came before us and those who walk alongside us really does fill us if we open ourselves to it. The heroics are not reserved for the famous people who obtain incredible success. That’s awesome, for sure, but heroic acts of sacrifice, commitment, and courage are happening all around us every day. Even in our own little worlds. Even by us. Take the time to recognize that survival spirit in yourself and others. It flows through you and out of you as you stride, stroll, or stumble into the next act of your unique and unpredictable life.

Rooted at Home

The other day I was sitting on our deck. That in itself is a rarity, but not only was I just sitting there, I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t reading. I wasn’t talking on the phone. I was just sitting there contemplating. I’m making an effort to spend more time being still and quiet.

My eyes landed on a particular tree in our backyard. It’s right next to the swing set/playhouse that, for some inexplicable reason, still stands, even though our children are hardly that anymore. I noted that the tree is three or four times as tall as the swing set, when it once was the same height. It brought to mind the first days of residence in our home. We moved in when our oldest was three, almost four, and I was six weeks away from delivering our bouncing baby girl, the one who now is merely days away from 17.

I marveled at how tall the tree had grown. Scenes from our life together floated into focus. I remember our son driving his battery powered jeep around the yard while Dad followed with the camcorder and I carried our new baby girl. When we watch that video, as we have many times, that tree is in the background, still pliable and fragile. In the footage of baby girl taking her first steps the tree is a little taller, a little sturdier, but still very much in its youth. In later photos of baseball playing kids, the tree is twice as tall as the swing set. And so it goes through the history of our little corner of the world.

As I stared at the now majestic and towering tree, I recognized how beautiful it is and how it is rather like the four of us. It mirrors our evolution. All the while our young family was growing and developing, so was that tree. Like us it has weathered sunny days and stormy times, but it grew to be strong and resilient. Like us, it has some twists and imperfections, but you only see those when you look really hard. And, in fact, they only add to the character and appeal of its appearance. Perhaps a tree grown in a climate-controlled greenhouse, where everything is optimal, can become a perfect specimen with no flaws, but our tree triumphed not in an artificial environment, but in the real world. We are triumphing, too, I think. We four branch out as separate individuals, living independent lives, but at our foundation, like the trunk of our old tree, we come together to form a solid base from which to draw strength.

Like our tree we’re still growing and reaching higher. We don’t know all the different ways we’ll branch out and bloom, but I’m pretty sure we’ll always find comfort and strength in being firmly rooted at home.