If you don’t
ask, you don’t get. –Mahatma Gandhi
Months
ago, poet Mary Oliver was giving a reading
at a local university. I like Mary Oliver’s work, and in some
cases, I even love it. Not like I love the poetry of some other poets—okay,
just one,
a man who shall remain nameless lest I be entered again into The Poet Stalker Database—but
even so there are phrases
and moments in Mary Oliver’s poetry that Speak To Me and Me Alone. Or perhaps
not Me Alone, given the hundreds of other people who showed up at her reading. I
love it when poets get rock star welcomes.
My
friend Donna went with me. It turns out that Donna is a big Mary Oliver fan. We
sat on the second row, waiting patiently. “I want you to meet a friend of mine,”
Donna said to me as we were all waiting for the reading to start, a reading
delayed by Mary Oliver’s desire to wait for her friend, Coleman Barks, to
arrive. “I especially want Coleman to hear my poems about my dog,” Mary Oliver
said, explaining the
delay and asking our forbearance. And who could blame her?
Well, my lord, if my friend were Coleman
Barks and I had a new dog, I’d want to wait too, I thought to myself, so off we went to meet Donna’s
friend who had just arrived.
I
could barely focus on what Donna was saying to me, or her friend, either. I
know I’ve written many times—and very
recently!—about simplicity and not owning a lot of things and the evils of rampant
materialism and how things
keep us from being free and who we are—but honestly, you weren’t there. You
cannot know how utterly and completely perfect that woman’s scarf was for me. My
life would be complete, I knew in a hot blinding instant, if that scarf were
around my neck and not hers. “That
scarf is so gorgeous,” I gushed, plotting how to pull one end of it, twirl her out
of it like a mummy, and then run screaming up the aisle for the exit. Screw
Mary Oliver and her precious Rumi translating friend. I would run like the wind
with that scarf blowing behind me, out into the dark, dark night.
“Thanks,”
Scarf Woman said as she backed up the tiniest bit.
Thanks?
I thought. Just thanks? Not, would you like me to take it off and give it to
you since you so obviously love it?
Donna
offered help. “This is Chad Alice
Hagen—she’s an artist. She makes hand-felted textiles. She made that
scarf.”
I
fingered it lovingly. “You made
this?” I asked, my eyes wide. “You made
this? I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
I
have whole files full of nothing but business cards and postcards from artists,
people whose work I have seen and loved around the world--people I have walked miles to find again in Stockholm and Helsinki and other countries that aren't the least bit Scandinavian--and every time I pull
out those files and remember those people and their
incredible art, I give a
little thanks to the universe that there are people in the world who actually
wake up every single morning and make art out of the world around them, around
us all.
“Yes,
I made it” she said. “I’m glad you like it. It’s felted wool.”
It
was my favorite colors in the world—teal and ochre and all the shades in between.
It was an outlandish scarf full of wacky holes and spear-like fringe on all
sides. It was magic and funky and gorgeous and fun and absolutely totally mine.
Honestly, if you had been there with me, you would have said exactly the same
thing. “It looks fantastic with your prematurely (wink, wink) white hair,” you would have
said. And I’m pretty sure you would have said, “Here, let me distract her with a poem about mathematical equations and boiled peanuts while you
make a run for it.”
“I
want it,” I said.
She
blinked. Donna blinked. I blinked.
“Um…well,
I do sell them,” she offered, searching for the exit herself, like I do when I
fly, counting the number of seats to the nearest exit, which might be behind
me, so when it’s dark and smoky in the cabin, I can count my way to the
40-pound door to freedom. I swear I could see her eyeballing the number of
chairs to the lobby door.
“I’d
be glad to sell you one.”
“Oh,”
I said. “But I really want this one,
this very one. This.” I touched the end of the scarf to punctuate which very
one I meant. The colors. Ah, the colors.
“Can
I buy this one?” I asked, laughing, thinking why not, she can always say no. “Sure,”
she said, laughing in response, reaching up to take it off.
“Really?
Really? No, no, oh, no,” I said. “It looks wonderful with your outfit. Keep it
on for the reading, please. Let’s just meet in the lobby afterwards and I’ll
give you a check.”
It
felt like an undercover drug deal. After Mary Oliver touched our deeper selves, punctuated
and phrased us to greater insight with geese and memorable foxes on our journey,
I met Chad Alice Hagen in the lobby and slipped her a check while she undressed,
handing me her scarf. I wear it daily.
So
much of life is waiting. Wondering why people don’t understand what we need and
want. Not asking. Not being specific. And then being bothered when we don’t get
what we want when we haven’t asked for it.
My
friends laughed once when I walked into a performance evaluation with overhead
slides and a clear intention: I wanted to be made a vice president of the
organization. My title at the time was Assistant Under-Secretary Deputy Dog of Nothing,
which is why they laughed. I was a vice
president within the year. I was clear about
what I wanted, I put it into words, and I got it. Does it always happen that
way? No, but the answer matters less than the clarity of the asking. But that’s the
hard part. As Mark Twain wrote, “I can
teach anybody how to get what they want out of life. The problem is that I
can’t find anybody who can tell me what they want.”
I
dare say we don’t know what we want, not really, not often, not at our truest
self. We know what we’ve been taught to
want, and what we should want (and
certainly what we shouldn’t want and shouldn’t ask for). But what do you want—not all those other people
around you, but you?
37days Do it now Challenge
As
Lily Tomlin said, “I always said I wanted to be somebody when I grew up. Now I
know I should have been more specific.” Asking for what you want requires one
teeny tiny prerequisite: You must know what you want. This isn’t really about
scarves, but about something more, isn’t it? It isn’t about accosting a talented
textile artist in a poetry reading while waiting for the Rumi translator so you
can hear dog poems, but it is about being specific and about putting it out in
the universe: This is what I want.
It's not that we can't find our voice. It's that we don't know what to say.
Let’s
give this a try. For the next twenty-four hours, be very specific. Ask for
exactly what you want. Not, “I don’t care—whatever you’d like to see,” but “I’d
like to see Sweeney Todd but without the blood, just with Johnny Depp,” purely as a hypothetical. See how it feels. Can you do it without feeling demanding? See
how people react. Make a note of what keeps you from asking for what you
want—will people laugh? Will they think you selfish? Will they say no? Find
out and move on. This is more about your action than about their reaction
anyway. As is most of life.
[As
you can see, Mr Brilliant is quite enamored of The Scarf as well.]
What a great post. I love your story about the scarf - written in a hilarious, engaging way. And I love Mary Oliver. How did I not know she was in the Asheville area???? How did I miss that???? And your thoughts about declaring to the universe what we want are great. Thanks for an entertaining and thought-prodding post.
Posted by: Frivolitea | 06 February 2008 at 07:30
Wow!
My dear friend jane called me this morning at the unheard of hour of 7:30am and told me there was a surprise on our favorite blog - 37 Days. And was I ever surprised! That crazy scarf! It looked so good on you. Although the scarf has a name - Airey Fairy - I am thinking of calling it The Talking Scarf as so many folks who have either been gifted with one or have made their own in my workshops tell me that people always stop them in the street, stare at their head or neck, wherever the scarf happens to be, and a conversation starts. Where? What? Why? Even "You must be so brave to wear that!"
I absolutely love your blog and writing. So much good food for thought early in the morning, and I keep thinking about things all through the day - It's like a good breakfast of hot oatmeal and mashed dates.
Posted by: chad alice hagen | 06 February 2008 at 08:37
I love this. It goes along with something that I heard at the VizThink conference last week, where someone spoke about a wall of unreasonable requests that was a regular event at an unconference they attended. People posted stickies on the wall with their unreasonable requests and reviewed the other posted unreasons. Many of those unreasonable requests became fulfilled. After all, who knows what is truly unreasonable? Maybe what we feel is the shame of making a request that we don't DESERVE?
I let out an involuntary HA! at some point in this essay and can't find it now because it was a special moment in time. But I also recalled having purchased a pair of earrings from a stranger's ears at a dinner party after staring at them up until the dessert course. I caught her with a check on the way out the door. I still love those earrings.
Posted by: Kate | 06 February 2008 at 08:54
I definitely struggle with this...first knowing what i want (as it's often buried) and then asking for it. I do wonder if as Kate says, it has something to do with not feeling worthy or deserving. Either way, it's something I'm working on, thinking about and then asking out loud for what I truly want. It's frightening and exhilarating and all together satisfying. :-)
Posted by: leah | 06 February 2008 at 10:25
This is what I appreciate: Directing.
This is what I am doing (3 wks now) that I asked for 3 months ago: Production Supervising.
getting from Prod. Super. to Director is letting the right people know...by that I don't mean people with connections or more money or etc...no, I mean those who appreciate my pearls...and appreciate being asked to share them.
Posted by: grace, T | 06 February 2008 at 10:37
also of note, the artist who made the scarf, probably appreciates her art work being appreciated.
It's what most artists ask for.
Posted by: grace, T | 06 February 2008 at 10:38
Oh, my! That first shot of Mr Brilliant brings to mind a sea monster in some local community theater production. At least you know the scarf is versatile, Patti!
This is such a rich topic, that of asking for what you want, particularly among those of us who thrive in giving, in helping others, in (sometimes) putting our own needs in last place.
It's not possible to help others endlessly without refilling our own well. Looking at it that way, even the most giving person can begin to grasp the importance of placing ourselves and our needs at a much higher priority than we commonly do.
Thanks for sharing this story, Patti. Not only a good lesson, but full of good laughs, too! I promise I am laughing *with* Mr Brilliant...
Posted by: Rick | 06 February 2008 at 11:03
Chad Alice is our neighbor and wonderful friend. She writes the funniest stories of her travel adventures to us when she's on the teaching circuit. She's an amazing artist, full of the non-verbal kind of choices in art that she will only explain with, "Well, that looked good there." Which is the kind of artist i want to be.
I love your description of the coveting of that scarf. My wife Helen even attended Chad's class in making that kind of scarf and wears the one she made proudly and, i would like the world to know, elegantly.
And speaking of asking for what you want, yesterday i stopped by Subway eatery and noticed out back that they'd thrown out an old counter which had 2 3x10 foot panels of plastic made to look like photographic ceramic tile (tomatoes and veggies), and i just walked back in and asked the manager. He was perhaps Persian or possibly Indian and seemed intrigued with why i wanted it, but let me put them in my car despite nails and sharp metal all over the place. And all i had to do was ask!
Posted by: zen | 06 February 2008 at 11:53
Chad Alice is our neighbor and wonderful friend. She writes the funniest stories of her travel adventures to us when she's on the teaching circuit. She's an amazing artist, full of the non-verbal kind of choices in art that she will only explain with, "Well, that looked good there." Which is the kind of artist i want to be.
I love your description of the coveting of that scarf. My wife Helen even attended Chad's class in making that kind of scarf and wears the one she made proudly and, i would like the world to know, elegantly.
And speaking of asking for what you want, yesterday i stopped by Subway eatery and noticed out back that they'd thrown out an old counter which had 2 3x10 foot panels of plastic made to look like photographic ceramic tile (tomatoes and veggies), and i just walked back in and asked the manager. He was perhaps Persian or possibly Indian and seemed intrigued with why i wanted it, but let me put them in my car despite nails and sharp metal all over the place. And all i had to do was ask!
Posted by: zen | 06 February 2008 at 11:53
THIS very topic is what I've been working on this week. It is my quest. And here, as usual, you're way ahead of me. Thank you for the very clear direction and for sharing your fun scarf story! LOVE the scarf. Would love to see a photo of it gracing YOUR neck (altho, can't get enough of Mr. Brilliant photos either...)
Posted by: Mary-Sue | 06 February 2008 at 12:18
"It's not that we can't find our voice. It's that we don't know what to say."
OMG. Those two sentences were worth the cost of admission.
I am learning to know what to say, whom to say it to, and when to say it. And to repeat myself when necessary.
Posted by: Spike | 06 February 2008 at 12:25
yes yes YES ! it does work the problem is that I keep on forgetting about this
Posted by: m | 06 February 2008 at 15:39
I remember so clearly when I first found my voice, and realized I could ask for what I wanted, clearly and with no reservations. I swear I felt a physical *shift*, and I could breathe. I was in alignment. So grateful for years of practicing that, even if I sometimes forget.
It's like - if you speak your truth, your honest desire, you create the space for the matching puzzle piece of fulfillment to come in and complete the picture. If you're wishy-washy or unsure or unaware, the edges aren't clear enough to make a match.
Posted by: Caren | 06 February 2008 at 17:36
ahem.
AHhem.
me-me-me-me-me.
CouldIhavethatscarf?
That. Very. One.
(How'd I do?)
Posted by: jeanne, herself | 06 February 2008 at 21:57
Frivolitea - next time Mary Oliver is coming this way, I'll be sure to tell you!
Chad Alice Hagen - THE ARTIST HERSELF!!! Imagine my delight to see your comment. So happy to be your early morning wake-up call today! One day soon I must come to one of your workshops and learn to make airey fairy scarves...but even if I do, this one will always be my fav!
Kate - I love, love, LOVE the idea of posting unreasonable requests and having them fulfilled! Love it! Many thanks for sharing that...I can think of a few unreasonable requests I could post right now...!
Leah - We are probably all works in progress on this one...and I do believe it is linked to our perception of worthiness. How to play big without feeling like an egomaniac, or stepping on others' toes...hard work, that.
grace, T - you have hit such an important word--appreciation. Thanks for surfacing that thought for me. Good thoughts for your ongoing journey!
Rick - you know that putting ourselves as a priority is so hard...I keep making appointments with myself to get to the gym, and I keep breaking them. I wouldn't break an appointment with someone else--why do I do it with myself? I'll pass along your jolly thoughts to Mr Brilliant...! Sea monster it is!
Zen - I loved your story of Chad Alice's, "Well it looked good there." And of your wife's elegant wearing of her own airey fairy scarf...I really have to get to one of those workshops and SOON! Thanks also for reminding us of the power of the ask with a real life story...
Mary-Sue - ask and ye shall receive. Some day when you least expect it, you'll find that scarf around my neck gracing this blog...
Spike - I'm so glad that resonated with you. Keep repeating...repeating is good...
m - what would help you remember? a string around your wrist? a post-it note on your mirror? actually, I think all of life is made up of getting, forgetting, and remembering lessons, isn't it? Perhaps that's integral to the process...
Caren - such an important point - I do believe there is a physicality to it, yes. Thanks for that additional reminder of why we should do this for ourselves...
Jeanne - girl, you made me laugh so hard I spit my tea onto my keyboard. Um...let's see. I think Mr Brilliant would weep if I sent you that scarf (smile), but because you asked, I will send you sumpin-sumpin else made by MY little hands if you will email me with your address. No kidding! pattidigh at gmail dot com.
Posted by: patti digh | 06 February 2008 at 22:17
This was such a good and fun read, Patti. You made me chuckle. Kudos to you. Enjoy that scarf! The title captured me right away and then the quote "if you don't ask, you won't get" really hit me...such a contrast from when I was a child. I grew up in a house where the phrase was "kids who ask, get their hands slapped". I learned not to ask for anything and struggle with this still. Thanks for this post.
Posted by: Ruth | 07 February 2008 at 08:15
Goodness I've mentioned "putting it into the universe" twice today--once in comments on my own blog and the other on someone else's. Talk about there being no coincidences in life ;)
Posted by: bleeding espresso | 07 February 2008 at 12:24
while I am thrilled about your scarf and all and I am intrigued by the challenge, I am more jealous and enamored about the fact that you got to hear Mary Oliver read her poetry out loud to you. I love Mary Oliver. Truly.
Posted by: Dawn | 07 February 2008 at 12:55
I think this thought also goes out to not only to what we need but what marriages need, too. How often do we as women say, "My partner should know what I want!" Well, why should they?? I mean, really?
A friend of mine is reading the book 'Getting the Love You Want' and it's all about open, honestly, loving and not hostile communication.
Posted by: Becky | 07 February 2008 at 14:12
Asking for what I want and knowing I won't get it:
A cure for A.L.S. so that I have more time with my mother.
Sometimes, even when you know what you want, you don't get it.
Posted by: jasper | 07 February 2008 at 23:28