New Challenges

It's faith in something and enthusiasm for something that makes a life worth living. --Oliver Wendell Holmes

Two days I began my journey into a simplified life. I read Benjamin Franklin's words, "Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy." I looked up the definition of "temperate", and was intrigued by the old fashioned ring to the expression. The sound stirred up thoughts of prohibition, and yet still evoked the peaceful sense of a controlled, orderly way to live. Webster's dictionary defines temperate in this way: "marked by moderation, keeping or held within limits : not extreme or excessive". I have to admit, I was smitten with the concept. For years, perhaps even for most of my life, I have felt a desperate need to be on top of every area in my life. I've felt the need to dress in the latest style, to have my hair a specific way and a pathological desire to fit into the popular cultural landscape. While I'd always hoped to be accepted and liked on my merits, the fact remained that, deep down inside, I was a glutton for keeping up with the "Joneses". No one made me feel this way. I easily slid down the Slope of Consumption and happily made purchases on the way.

I've always loved to shop. Shopping, for me, was a Power Sport. In my husband's mind, shopping was a mission. He saw the needed item as an objective, the store as territory to traverse and the strategy involving speed and accuracy. On the other hand, I found shopping to be relaxing, even restorative. I could be upset by bad news, have worries over health or even just feel garden variety stress, and the first place I'd want to go would be to the mall. Somewhere between Banana Republic and French Connection, I'd find myself able to breathe again. Those purchases in hand felt like magic, soothing balms to my weary soul. I'd get an uplifting, soaring spirit from every credit card swipe. I'd buy clothes, jewelry, handbags, shoes, perfume and home decor. I'd feel blissfully dynamic on my way out to my car.

Yet, the opening of my trunk would begin to kill the rush of positive energy. Starting the drive home would already begin to leave me disappointed...and more than just a little embarrassed at my own greedy behavior. By the time I'd carry parcels in, I'd wonder what came over me. I felt ashamed at my own inability to find joy in other ways.

While I never got to the point of many women, who lose their homes and careers due to shopping addictions, I will say that I am not happy with myself about my views on shopping. I am completely rational, well educated and responsible. Therefore, it shouldn't take a new pair of suede boots, no matter how soft, to make me feel better about myself. I don't hoard and regularly give a great deal to the charity shops. But, I also realize that my sense of self-worth is too intrinsically tied to material gain to be healthy. So, I'm giving it up. All of it. No more recreational jaunts to the Gap. No more open catalogs surrounding me in bed. No more Internet browsing of fabulous sites. No more putting unneeded items on a worshipped pedestal.

Two ideas came my way this past year and inspired me to take on a Year of Temperate Living. The first was reading "The Year of Living Biblically" by A.J. Jacobs. In this well written, clever, witty and touching journal, the author explores his roots by living according to even the most remote and obscure biblical principles. I devoured this book, mainly because I was deeply impressed at the level of commitment that these drastic measures entailed. I also noticed the profound impact that taking a year to gain perspective on life's greater meanings had on the writer. Although A.J. Jacobs never intended to go further past his year, he did find that the life changes he made were far reaching and powerful.

The other life impacting movement that caught my attention was theOctober Dress Project. This fascinating project took on many forms, took on different names, and created a frenzy of interest all over the Internet. Many women, like myself, found frustration in trying to be stylish....the frustration came financially, personally and even ethically. How can we continue to become voracious consumers and not become bankrupt...emotionally and pecuniary? I read account after account of the rich meaning women gained from this experience, including my friend, Alexandra's. I became enamored of trying it myself. Yet, when it came down to my own attempt at this project, I became way too caught up in the shopping aspect...the hunt for the Perfect Dress. I realized that, for me, this wasn't a healthy challenge.

And so, it begins: I'm laying down the challenge for myself. I'm not going to buy anything I don't need. I have already defined need vs. want in my own heart and life. I do not need clothes, shoes or accessories. I don't need to buy books, movies or entertainment features, as all of these can come from the library. I need food, health care, the love of my family and friends and nothing more.

Will it work? I hope so. I'm also hoping to learn some lessons about my own sense of strength along the way. I know that this will not be easy for me. But, I think I owe it to myself to try.

I will continue to write "The Preppy Yogini", but I hope you will join me in my new venture: The Year of Temperate Living.

The Search for Self

Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. ~St. Augustine

Every so often, I come across a book that I love so much, I want to buy a copy and give it to everyone I know and love. This is most certainly the case with "The Girl from Foreign" by Sadia Shepard. This memoir is going to be my go-to gift for people I care about. From my mother to my closest friends to my daughter, I hope to share this journey with with all. Author Sadia Shepard grew up, as many people I know did, in the Boston suburbs. However, her mother grew up Muslim in Pakistan, having emigrated there from India during the Partition, when India and Pakistan divided into two countries. Shepard's father is Episcopalian and from Colorado. Her most treasured relative is her grandmother, Rahat Siddiq...who was born Rachel Jacobs into Bombay's Bene Israel community. Unknown to me, as well as to many other people, India has had a strong Jewish history, its Bene Israel members believe themselves to be one of the lost tribes of Israel. They trace their history back to a shipwreck on the Konkan coast more than 2000 years ago. Shepard grows with three traditions: Christian, Muslim and Jewish. Her promise to her grandmother, funded by a Fulbright scholarship, takes her to India to discover her Jewish roots. What she finds both surprises and confuses her; that of a people she has known very little about. In them, she finds a missing part of herself.

Like many of us, Sadia Shepard feels torn between several traditions. During her time in India and Pakistan, Shepard experiences the characterization of people who know their own boundaries. As a woman with multiple points of heritage, she attempts to discover her own boundaries...where she begins and where she ends. She is continually encouraged to pick one tradition and to find the niche in which she fits. As an American, the Indians she meets automatically assume she is in their country to visit an Ashram or to go on a yoga retreat. As a woman making contact with the Jewish community, she's assumed to be a practicing Jew. Shepard's Muslim relatives always believe she is looking for a Pakistani husband. Others assume she must be Christian because of her last name. Shepard's seeking voyage takes her not only to places all over southern Asia to discover her own roots, as well as the roots of the Bene Israel community, but it also becomes a journey within...as she tries to find out who she truly is. As she writes, "I never really felt at home in one place or the other, and yet I'm both American and Pakistani; Muslim and other." Shepard finds herself to be welcomed by all of these communities of which she is a part, and yet, feels unbearably different from each of them.

How often do we all feel this way? How many times have we felt both at home, in our own skins, and yet separate and different from those around us? What makes us feel at home in one

community, and what makes us feel contradictory? These feelings may not even have to do with religion or the cultural backgrounds of our ancestors. We may feel complex and conflicting emotions surrounding our political leanings, our life choices or the decisions we had made. We may see our lives as separate and "other" from those around us, leaving us with a sense of not really 'belonging'. What do we need to do to find that recognition and conscious awareness of fitting in?

As human beings, we all want to find a way to fit in. In middle school, many of us insisted on wearing our hair a certain way, wearing specific clothes or wanting particular, desirable after-school activities. We wanted to be indistinguishable from those around us. As we grow up, we continue to search for meaningful connections with our peers, but we may be less likely to change who we are to find do so. We hope to find our special avocation, by reaching out to those with common interests, common beliefs and common goals. We join book groups, churches, clubs and political parties. We volunteer for worthwhile organizations. We attempt to make sense of our own presence in the world by connecting with others. This might well bring us full circle to lead us back to the roots of our childhood. Or, it may well take us in a completely new direction...to find meaningful bonds outside of a life may find lacking. Like Sadia Shepard, this search may lead us on a physical journey, to visit the native places of our ancestors. Or, these travels might spur us on to discover like minded people in other parts of the country. We feel a dramatic pull towards being with people who resemble us or may believe in similar ideals. Instead of changing who we are in order to fit in, we may try to discern where we can go, to find people with whom we find harmonious traits.

What if we haven't a clue about to who we are, before we begin the search? We begin by trying new things, by rediscovering the traditions of our childhood and by investigating the world around us. We can start reading books written by people who come from backgrounds similar

to our own, as well as those who come from vastly different traditions. We can take classes involving new experiences, as well as talking to family members about the activities we did in the past. We can blend the excitement of learning a new skill, folded in with recipes from our youth. We can look through photo albums, remembering the places we went and things we liked to do when we were young. We can share those very spots and traditions with our children, with our friends and with our spouses. We can cook them the foods we loved when we were younger, and share the memories we have with them. In sharing what we already know about ourselves, we may find that we discover hidden truths, hidden meanings and hidden experiences we can only recapture by experiencing them with others...especially those who care about us. In the process, new insights will find us. When these shared experiences lead to questions and conversations, we will be discover entire parts within us that have laid dormant and buried.

C.S Lewis wrote,"Friendship is born at the moment when one person says to another: 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one!". As we find ourselves on the journey of self-discovery, we may just find kindred spirits....people with whom we share a great deal of ourselves. What we may also uncover are the keys to unlocking our sense of belonging...but we will all find that, until we are truly comfortable with who we are now, with where we have been and with where we are going, those keys will be harder to discover. When we reach the point of comfort within ourselves, we may just find that we do belong in many different places...and we can feel equally comfortable in each one.

And, we may also discover, that the journey is a lot more fun when we include others.