I am a sucker for inspirational swag – it’s like I need little reminders to stay the course. I have collected quotable quotes my whole life; words of wisdom that speak to me. I see them everywhere. These days quotes adorn almost everything; pillows, coffee cups and even inked on people. I can get inspired six ways to Tuesday on a Monday morning. And that’s a good thing – at this age just getting out of bed sometimes requires encouragement, I need all the inspiration I can get.
I try to be the person my dog thinks I am every day, I don’t always succeed. I try to keep calm and carry on even when I’m flustered. Like most people, life can get the best of me at times.
I pretty much cut my teeth on motivational literature – I started reading self-help books when my mother handed me a copy of The Games People Play, way back in the 70s. The Power of Positive Thinking, I’m Okay, You’re Okay (and it’s spin off I’m Okay, You’re Not-so-hot) all planted the seeds that grew into a dependence on inspiration.
I would hang motivational plaques all over the house if I was left to my own devices, but my husband might object. It isn’t that he is opposed to inspiration, he just doesn’t think it is art. So I display my emotional shots-in-the-arm in my own domaine; on my bookshelves, my bedside table and on notebooks and calendars. I can get a little boost in almost every room in the house. I have no excuse not to rise to every occasion, but the truth is, I don’t. Even with all the strategically placed encouragement, with all the hours spent immersed in words of wisdom, I still struggle at times.
What on earth did people do back in the days before Dale Carnegie? How the hell did they win friends and influence people before he penned his international best seller? Did people run around feeling not okay until someone told them they were? Were all those generations before us wallowing in a dark uninspired world before someone shone a spotlight on their despair? Did they even realize they needed guidance? Or were they just doing the best they could, with what they had, and getting through their days.
Some days are hard to get through even with all this inspirational jargon smacking me in the face. Life is like that I think – it’s a ride and it’s a surprise. I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got. Some days are easy, I don’t even notice the positive reminders placed around the house. Other days are tough and the reminders feel like little digs that I’m doing something wrong. I’m at a bit of a crossroads with regards to my obsession with plucky little phrases.
I have always loved to dance, especially when no one is watching – I have moves that have never seen the light of day. My granddaughters are quick to invite me to their parties – they inspire athletics I haven’t attempted in years. We always sing like no one is listening; and if they are, they probably wish they weren’t. I don’t need a slogan when the girls are around, they inspire me every time I see them.
I have a collection of books of inspiration. I have read a few of them more than once. I love discovering a writer whose view validates how I feel – they write the books I’m drawn to, the ones I recommend to my friends. They put words to my feelings, I’m okay and they’re okay. If a book makes me squirm, or roll my eyes, I chuck it. It appears the inspiration I’m looking for is not something to stretch my mind, it’s something that makes me feel better about the who I already am.
Maybe this obsession with inspirational swag is more like a desire for confirmation. Perhaps the swag makers and book writers have just tapped into a need for validation. Maybe I just appreciate word art.
There are areas in my life that still need work – a lot of areas, a lot of work. Sometimes it overwhelms me. I’m starting to understand that I will always be a work in progress. A little shot-in-the-arm or a nudge back on the path to perfection can’t be a bad thing. Who knows, with a daily reminder I might wake up one morning being the person my dogs think I am – or not, they seem to like me just fine the way I am.
