wrote my undergraduate thesis about the novels of Jane Austen,
enjoyed all the depictions of her in film and TV adaptation, and
as recently as yesterday thought again about how Elizabeth cares not about her appearance when she walks to see her sister Jane who has taken ill on a visit to the Bingleys. Here is a passage about how the snobbish Bingley sisters see Elizabeth.
When dinner was over she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added —
“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”
“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”
“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it, not doing its office.”
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I thought of that yesterday because I ended up six inches deep in mud on my walk and cared not for my appearance.
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I also identify with the fictional character Indiana Jones, specifically this quote:
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Making this up as I go, I asked a question last night about fictional characters on Twitter.
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Do you see any fictional characters in my other images for today?
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Here’s what I find when I search for “fictional characters” on YouTube:
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Thanks to all the fictional and non-fictional characters who help me create this daily blog, including YOU!
When I was a senior in college, I had the sense and sensibility to write my undergraduate thesis on Jane Austen. The title of that thesis was Judgment and [a word I don’t have the sensibility to remember, but my sense is that it’s something like “Perception”] in the Novels of Jane Austen.
“Sense” means good judgment or prudence, and “sensibility” means sensitivity or emotionality.
Today, I would venture to say that combining one’s sense and sensibility results in wise mind — the overlap of logic and emotion. I now have the sense and sensibility to quote Marsha Linehan, the creator of Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT):
Wise mind is that part of each person that can know and experience truth. It is where the person knows something to be true or valid. It is almost always quiet, It has a certain peace. It is where the person knows something in a centered way.
Do you see any sense and/or sensibility in my photos from yesterday?
As usual, I have the sense and sensibility to end a post with thanks to all who helped me create it and to you — of course! — for bringing your sense and sensibility to my blog.
three years ago, I was hired at a large Primary Care Practice of a major Boston teaching hospital to be a “Change Agent” (introducing more group work and more in-the-moment responsiveness to patients in emotional distress),
changes we choose can feel a lot different from changes that are thrust upon us,
change is a part of growth and healing,
noticable change — even good change — often evokes resistance in others,
change is scary for many human beings,
small changes can seem invisible, trivial, and unimportant, and
I’ve witnessed enormous changes starting with one, small change.
I think about change SO much, that the small change list above could be much, much larger. However, I’d like to change this post into a more visual one, now.
Today, on the first day of the new year, I’m considering this small change:
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Changing my profile picture, here at WordPress.
Now, you have to admit that’s a REALLY small, unimportant change — totally undeserving of a dramatic reveal like that, or of much time spent by you OR me.
Nevertheless, this is exactly how I choose to spend my first moments of 2015, here at WordPress.
Here are some candidates, for that particular change:
#1:
That’s Jane Austen, still my favorite writer after all these years, who appeared in this recent post I wrote, which — I think — has already created observable changes in me.
#2:
That’s one of my favorite T-shirts, from one of my favorite diners, which has appeared in several important (to me) “Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally” posts (including this, this, this, this, this, and that).
#3:
It’s another t-shirt, which I created a few years ago because I (and many experts) honestly believed I was the longest surviving person in the entire world with a cardiac pacemaker. I don’t wear that t-shirt any more. Why? Because, somebody — who found this blog and who got her first pacemaker before I got my first one in 1963 — contacted me. So, I changed about that, too.
#4:
That image appeared in this post, a year and a half ago. I found it, just now, by searching the word “chocolate” through all 730 of my previous, daily posts. Would anybody like to guess what number of posts that was? Personally, I wouldn’t change a thing about any of all that.
#5:
That was my profile photo from my first year of blogging. Returning to that might seem like the opposite of progress, but as I’ve described here, here, and elsewhere, we cycle through changes in our lives, often going over similar territory (but always moving up and onward).
#6:
That’s a nice photo, but it’s not me. Also, it’s never appeared in this blog before. It’s just a picture I saved a while ago before I got my hair cut by the fabulous Mia (previously appearing in this blog — according to my search for “Mia”– here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here).
#7:
That IS me, and it continues (while also substantially changing) some personal visual mysteries I’ve created so far, in this blog. But that’s a little scary for a profile picture, isn’t it? I hope I didn’t scare my then 15-year-old son Aaron — who was in the emergency room with a collapsed lung — by looking like that while I was with him there, back in June 2013. By the way, that black cat around my neck is a gift from my guy/boyfriend/partner/whatever-you-want-to-call-him, Michael.
#8:
That’s similar to my current profile picture, with two obvious changes — the tiger is wearing a hat and NOT wearing glasses (which I do need, to see clearly). I should also confess this: I’m not wearing that hat these days.
#9:
That photo continues the tiger theme, plus it shows two puppets very important to me, one I’ve had since I was a little girl. I inadvertently changed the larger puppet (named “Tiger”) when I placed his head on a lightbulb, so he could listen to me practice piano, many years ago.
My sister and I get to go to a Red Sox World Series game, for the second time!
I’m wondering about judgmental thoughts people might have about my writing, right now.
I’m reminding myself that (a) I don’t know what anybody else is thinking and (b) who cares what other people are friggin’ thinking, anyway?
There are lots of things I want to include in this blog post today, including images of places I re-visited yesterday:
When I tell somebody something, I like to follow through. For example, a wonderful blogger, The Laughing Housewife, commented about yesterday’s post, “I can read the same book over and over; but it is its familiarity that makes it so special.” I replied, “I read some books over and over again, too. I think I’ll add that to the post I’m concocting in my mind right now.” So, here are some books I’ve read, many times, that have helped me:
Noticing something different, as I’m composing this post, which is worrying me.
Fearing some worst-case scenarios (e.g., I will lost this post before I can publish it; I will not give people credit who deserve it; links I’ve included won’t work or will be inappropriate).
Accepting that I fear the worst, sometimes, and that I can let go of that, too.
Things on that List of 10, which I’m doing differently, this time around:
All of the above.
That concludes today’s post, everybody.
Thanks to David Ortiz, Koji Uehara, everyone else involved in the creation of this post, and to you, too, for visiting today.
