tribes

In the beginning of her book “Eat Pray Love”, Liz Gilbert finds herself in the middle of something she has no control over which is causing her a great deal of angst, worry, anxiety, and despair. In her case, a contested divorce. It has come to the place where it has the potential to consume yet another year of her life by tying her up in court, not to mention wasting every dime of their money on legal fees.

Are you guys with me? Anxiety? Despair? Loss of control? Can you relate?

She feels hopeless and out of control and while on a drive through Kansas with a friend, she expresses her desire to write a Petition to God, you know, to inject some Divine Intervention into a situation which seems beyond repair.

Once she drafts a copy in the car, she and her amazing and very willing friend, add imaginary (energetic), signatures at the bottom. “My parents both signed it!” her friend exclaims. “So did mine! And so did my grandparents!” Liz replies. “St Francis of Assisi just signed it!” her friend yells excitedly, pounding the steering wheel for emphasis; and the exercise continues for well over an hour raising Liz’s spirits and bolstering her resolve.

Later, still in the passenger seat of the car, she grabs a quick nap and is awakened by her ringing phone. “You’ll never guess”, her attorney from New York exclaims without even saying hello, “He just signed the papers!”

God, I love that scene! Because I love magic, and I believe in the Physics of Quests, clues, and signs, and our right to Petition God or the Universe to take the wheel on our behalf, and so it dawned on me that I should write my own Petition, regarding my own crazy brave,crazy, brave, batshit crazy endeavour, and send it to my tiny inner circle—my tribe—so I did last night.

“Just like in the book I’d love it if you could sign it energetically (or literally) and send it out to others in the aether, living or dead, and let me know who we’ve got working on this.
I’ll put mine at the bottom.

I love you all more than words can express.
xoxJ”

And all day the names of the signatories have been pouring in!
Lucille Ball, Charlie Chaplin, Jackie Kennedy, The Obama’s…
Even the Pope signed it! What??!!

I wasn’t going to share it but then I realised that you guys are my tribe too! Below is what I wrote so you can use it as a template for your own Petition.

Then, I had what I thought was a great idea! I wanted to offer YOU this: If you want to write a short sentence in the comments about something that needs some energetic surrendering—start your own Pettition—I (we) will add our names and the names of others to it and up that juju factor.

How about it? Wanna try it? What do you have to lose?

I love you all more than words can express!
Carry on,
xox

Dear God, Universe, Nora, Nixon and All,
It is now time for you to intervene and facilitate the making of this “darling” screenplay into a movie. I humbly and respectfully acknowledge that I haven’t the faintest idea of what comes next or how to make this happen, and I am well aware of the fact that if I attempt to meddle in matters this far outside my paygrade, well, let’s just say ‘I’ll fuck it up’.

I realize that you may have more pressing things on your agendas like Chinese and North Korean diplomacy, Syria, finding a great karaoke song and looking for other ways to demystify death, and that helping me to ‘mind my own business’ seems like an insurmountable challenge, but we’ve come this far and worked so well together—that I beseech you to try.

Please attract only those to this project who are lifted by its message. Let it easily find its way to the best and the brightest. May the making of the movie be surrounded by as much love, light, fun and magic as the writing of the screenplay has been and may those that lay eyes on it see beyond what was written on the page. May it live to touch hearts and soothe souls.

Thank you for your kind consideration,
Respectfully,
Janet Bertolus

Picasso
Diane Sawyer
Mike Nicols
James Cameron
Elizabeth Gilbert
Oprah
Gayle King
My dad
Tom Hanks
Rob Bell
Erma Bombeck
Dear Abby
Clark Gable
Eva Gardner
Frank Sinatra
Andy Williams
Bob Fosse
Hemingway
Mark Twain
Martha Stewart
Mama Cass
Stevie Nicks
Joni Mitchell
Cameron Crowe
Ron Howard
Bryan Lorde
Rob Lowe
Prince

This is SOooooooo true! You know why my tribe?
Because they are the MOST interesting, sensitive and insightful souls.
Because they see the world differently than most.

Slightly tinted, and a bit skewed through the outsider’s lens.

Because they have an edge.
In their work and words and life.
It wraps it’s pointedness around their soft gooey hearts to keep them safe and sound, and if they let you inside, it feels like the Fourth of July, your first kiss and Christmas morning all rolled up into one.

Are you one of these wonderful, ragged, gypsy souls?

Then know that I love You.
Happy Saturday.
Xox

I’ve never been much of a joiner. From grade school right up until today, I have, whenever humanly possible, avoided joining any groups.

I’ve never been much for rules and bylaws, so if a group emits even the slightest whiff of organizational groupiness—I’m outa there!

I Blame Peggy

In sixth grade a whole gaggle of us girls spent months of our recess and lunch hours engaged in wickedly epic games of hopscotch.

That is until Peggy pulled on her bossy pants and decided to organize us.

Her first order of business was to regulate the size of the hopscotch squares so every grid was symmetrically the same. You know—to be fair. (I’m certain Peggy has continued her love affair with the slide-rule; or, she’s dead—killed by someone who can’t stand symmetry.)

Anyhow, once she started systematically checking the bean bag place markers we tossed for their weight, size, and color…I jumped ship.

I knew I’d loose my mind in that group of hopscotch nazis. I decided to while away my free time reading or flirting with boys. It was time well spent.

I Love Books Just Not The Clubs

Over the years I tried book clubs but the expectation to finish a book by a certain date took all of the enjoyment out of reading for me.

First they want you to:
Read a book that has been assigned by the group.

Be expected to research the author, know and have read all of their other books, quote passages, and sound smart doing all of that.

Stay up until 2 a.m. the night before book club trying to finish the piece of shit book that rambles and makes absolutely no sense, knowing full well you can never get those lost hours of your life back.

No fucking way.

Never again!

You know what that’s called? College.

Jeweler Not Joiner

When I first started as a jeweler back in the late eighties, surprisingly, there weren’t that many women in the field.
Hence, there was a local chapter of The Women’s Jewelry Association that continually reached out to me. They held get-togethers after work at local hotel bars or better yet, a guest expert would give a lecture and there would be wine, cheese and limp crudités.

I tried, I really did, but in all honesty I would have rather gotten a bikini wax.

So that just reaffirmed my aversion to groups and I also learned:
Jewelry lectures, cheap wine, and limp crudités make me want to commit Sabuke with an olive fork. 

Groups and George Clooney

So you can imagine my shock and horror when a couple of months ago, I, me, of sound mind and body, and of my own volition, joined this amazing writing tribe. The BWG the Beautiful Writers Group. I don’t know what came over me! I actually cringed when I pressed JOIN. All of my book club bullshit and hopscotch hell experiences came circling back around.

Why did I think this would be different? What had I gotten myself into? What in the hell was I thinking?

I haven’t the faintest idea.

But unlike those situations from my past— I’m having the time of my life with these women! They are successful, smart and funny. Thoughtful and generous.
And you wanna know the best part? Most of them are self-confessed non-joiners too!

All of my protestations remind me of that eternal bachelor, George Clooney; who when confronted with a woman so right for him, could barely contain his giddiness as he RAN to join the club of which he swore he would never become a member—marriage. Lord have Mercy.

The moral of this story? I guess it would be: Ditch the attitude and dump the labels. Non-joiner Smoiner! Things change. People change. I changed.

It’s my guess I would still run screaming from a book club, but now I get it—when you find your tribe—you WANT to join.

Carry on,
xox

http://www.daniellelaporte.com/bwg-session-2/