Writings: Do it yourself. Better that way…with Liz Gilbert

People are looking for the answer. In churches, in books, in relationships, in jobs, in money (and sometimes, no money, if you have a vow of poverty.) Any amount of looking is tiring work, I think, unless you have your own house in order, inside. Liz speaks to that, here:

You and me both, dear Neil…you and me both.

I’ve been finding myself talking about this subject a lot on stage during this BIG MAGIC book tour. I keep talking about the way my mother raised me to be as strong and self-providing as possible — insisting on it, in fact, to a degree that was sometimes uncomfortable for me when I was young, but for which I am now eternally grateful.

Even when I was a kid, my mother would not save me. Rather, she held me accountable for learning how to save myself. (“You need to talk to your teacher about this yourself,” she would say. Or: “You need to stand up to that bully yourself.” Or: “You and your coach need to work this problem out on your own terms.” Or: “You need to pay your own way.”)

I didn’t like it. I wanted her to fix everything for me. She refused.

This was not because my mother was neglectful or a hard-ass. This was because she was wise. This was because she was guided by her own fear — her own VERY legitimate fear of raising a helpless little girl who would turn into a helpless grown woman. This is why my mother modeled for me her own example of being a woman who always had her own income, her own independence, her own handcrafted exits out of any bad situation. This was because my mother’s life had already taught her this iron-clad truth:

ONLY BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO WOMEN WHO WAIT TO BE SAVED.

When you are waiting to be saved, after all, you see everyone who crosses your path as a potential rescuer. This is the most dangerous worldview that could possibly exist for a woman. A woman who is waiting to be saved will run into the arms of ANYONE, hide behind ANYONE, give her up power to ANYONE. A drowning woman (or a woman who perceives herself to be drowning) will climb up into any lifeboat — no matter how sketchy and dangerous that boat may be. And what happens next can often turn very quickly from a fairy tale to a horror story.

We must learn to save ourselves. We must learn to build our own lifeboats, or to swim for shore.

Teach your daughters well, Dear Ones. Teach them how to save themselves.

Remember: Automony is the God of women.

ONWARD,
LG