Hi Liz – if I may call you Liz? Because, we are, like, besties, right?
I’m sure you get that a lot, but I was there with you as you journeyed through Eat, Pray, Love and since then have been a constant companion as you’ve blogged, podcasted, written more, spoken in Sydney a couple of times.
Your words have altered the path of my life in so many ways – you were my introduction to a different way of living, to living from the heart, to breaking the mould when I didn’t know that this is what I wanted.
Your thoughts on muses and creativity and Big Magic drew me out of my shell and allowed me to get over myself and get on with being a creator.
You’ve introduced me to some of your favourite people: Rob Bell, Brene Brown, Rumi, who are now part of my vernacular and my heart.
I know we’ve not gotten to spend as much time together as we would have liked, but we are the kind of friends who can only see each other face-to-face every few months or years and not have to warm up, just be right back in the thick of our wise and witty DnM’s (Deep and Meaningfuls) from the get-go. Well, you talk, I listen, but … that’s our thing, right?
It’s awkward – I’m not sure you are as into us as I am, but I’m sure that’s just my old friends fear and ego shouting from the backseat. I’m sure we’ve locked eyes across the crowded theatres at the Opera House and Seymour Centre and had A Moment. Maybe? Too much? …. Let me submit this reference for myself: I did not ask a question at any of your talks!!
Which is a long spiel to say that I love your idea of following your curious. It has become central to my life, and today saw me scrambling up an 8 foot jungle gym at the park to climb across the top of the monkey bars and down the other side in order to follow my curious. Let me tell you, curious may not be pretty (I’m a 34 year old Mum of 3, wearing a skirt who got a bit stuck up there!!) but it sure feels dang good.
I’ve been thinking for a while now that curious may have a cousin who is not so whimsical, alluring or delightful, but equally powerful: jealousy.
Jealousy doesn’t have a good wrap – the green eyed monster is really one of those emotions which is well-avoided and not really admitted to in public. It’s a bit of a dirty word, right?
But just as following your curious can lead you on a journey of discovery, so too following your jealousy can be an uncoverer of cravings and wishes.
Hear me out.
You know sometimes you hear of someone getting a new job, or going on a holiday, or starting a blog, or moving to the country and you get a deep griping sensation in your stomach, followed by a spiteful or disdainful thought that ‘that was your thing’ or ‘that you could easily do that … if you wanted’ … which all is a poor mask for jealousy, and a surefire indication of something your soul desires.
I’ve seen it in others. Ok, myself.
And now try to use it for good by asking myself: “If someone told me they were going to , how would I react?”
If someone told me they were going to hike around Tasmania for a year … I would think it was admirable madness and ask them to send me a postcard. Not my cup of flat white.
But, if someone told me they were going to the Byron Writer’s Festival? Or to send a letter to you, or to Glennon or to Kelle Hampton? Or were going to be in “Spaces” magazine? Or join a choir? … I would be as green as Kermit. Perhaps greener.
And while following my curious would probably get me to this same place at some stage, I thought it an interesting and worthwhile short-cut in some situations. And wanted to share it with you, Liz … just in case you’re planning a Big Magic Too?
With thanks, admiration, blessings and Big Magic always,