“For as God uses the help of our reason to illuminate us, so should we likewise turn it every way, that we may be more capable of understanding His mysteries; provided only that the mind be enlarged, according to its capacity, to the grandeur of the mysteries, and not the mysteries contracted to the narrowness of the mind.” — Francis Bacon

Today I have adjusted to being back home in Arkansas. By this I mean that I’ve spent the entirety of the day hiding from the rest of the world. I did make a few phone calls this afternoon and am currently at the dinner table blogging while my parents watch the nightly news and my laundry goes round and round–but otherwise I’ve been locked in my room reading three different books, all of which I’m having to swallow and digest in pieces. And whereas my default is to think, Ugh. I have so many MORE books that I want to read and finish, and there’s just NOT enough time, today I’ve been working on accepting the fact that there will ALWAYS be more books than I have time to read.

And good. I’d rather be overly fascinated with and wanting to learn from life than to be bored with it.

Earlier while reading a book about fears, I started thinking about the fact that all throughout elementary, junior high, high school, and college, I was a straight-A student. At one time I would have said this as a matter of pride, but now I don’t see it as something to brag about; it’s simply a fact. And whereas school always came easily and I didn’t really have to “try hard” to get good grades, I do remember being deathly afraid of getting a B–of being less than perfect.

Whatever perfect means.

Ick. I guess I’ve never been able to completely shake the feeling that less-than-average, average, and slightly better-than-average just aren’t good enough–it’s gotta be the best–I gotta be the best. (If you identify with this thinking, I can only assume that you’re as exhausted as I am.) This “affection for perfection” is what, I think, is ultimately behind my desire for everything in my life to be just so. I want my body to feel a certain way, I want my closet arranged in a particular order, and I want my books completely read. There is, after all, nothing like a to-do list or a to-read list that’s all checked off.

But this evening I thought, Give it a fucking rest, Nancy. You don’t have to finish every book you start. What’s wrong with being a B reader?! Which felt good. Later, while updating my website and the fees I charge for different services (like teaching dance or remodeling houses), I noticed that some of the fees were formatted like this–$50/hr–and others were formatted like this–$50 / hr. Specifically, I noticed that some of the fees don’t have spaces before and after the slash and that and others do. Anyway, normally I’d go back and format them all the same, but tonight I thought, It’s been like that for four years, and just left it alone–not perfect, but part of the “good enough” club–something a B-student would do. Which felt fabulous.

Miraculously, the world’s still spinning.

One of the books I started reading today is called The Hero: Myth/Image/Symbol by Dorothy Norman. Much like the work of Joseph Campbell, it compares myths from different cultures and highlights their similarities, the point being that all the great myths, more than conveying FACTS, convey TRUTHS about a person’s individual potential. They speak about the journeys we’re on and–if we let them–have the power to transform our souls and spirits. I say “if we let them” because if you read a myth as either pure fact (history) or pure fiction (entertainment), it won’t do much for you. But if you read them as INTENDED, as being ABOUT YOU and, therefore, relatable and relevant to YOUR life, well–as the celebrities say about their bedrooms–this is where the magic happens.

As I understand it, the myths, like proper symbols, are designed to evoke or draw out of us our higher potentialities or levels of consciousness. In other words, they’re about personal transformation–transformation that, as the quote at the beginning of tonight’s blog communicates, doesn’t change “the mysteries” to fit the individual, but rather changes the individual to fit “the mysteries.” Connecting this idea to what’s happened for me today, it means that I could spend the rest of my life trying to order my PHYSICAL world around by organizing the shit out of everything and completing every book and project I start, but that would be, ultimately, fruitless and frustrating because the PHYSICAL world doesn’t need changing. My INTERNAL one does.

It is I (my way of thinking) that must enlarge.

I wish I could tell you that even a small shift in consciousness or seeing yourself or the world is something you can do quickly and easily, like, in a weekend. Alas, this has not been my experience. Rather, every positive change I’ve undergone in my life in terms of thinking and behaving has been long-fought and hard-won. This, incidentally, is why virtually all myths include a mountain to climb, a giant to kill, a dragon to tame, or a golden something (fleece, goose egg, take your pick) to snatch from an ogre. Transformation, the myths tell us, ain’t for sissies. What’s more, this process takes time and, as the book I’m reading says, “is impossible to hasten.” I realize this doesn’t sound like a pep talk, but the myths tell us that The Hard Work is worth all your energy and effort, which is why so many fairy tales and myths end with a victory, a marriage, a resurrection (like that of the Phoenix, the Christ, Lazarus, or even Harry Potter), or some other cause to celebrate.