Journaling Admiration

“She lacks the core of sureness, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on reflections of herself in others' eyes. She does not dare to be herself.”
― Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love"--The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin

What kinds of people, places, things, do we admire, look up to, look fondly upon, and try to emulate?  I know what I admire.  I admire women who are talented and share that talent.  I admire women who are intelligent and with whom one can have intelligent conversations with.  I admire women who are modest, not negative, not overly positive, with whom I can relate.  I admire women who have tenacity; yes, tenacity, and their courage and wit, their bravery and blessings are won through walking tough roads of a rough journey and yet sing a happy song as they wend their way.  I admire women who draw people to them; you know, those women who just feel like someone you know or want to know.  I admire women who can love;  right to the depths of the heart and soul love;  yes, trust;  yes, who dare to care even for those who blight them;  yes, a love that is gentle and adventurous and, yes, love in spite of themselves and their travails.  I admire women who are in touch with their spirituality and are not afraid to go it alone; who do not need texts or prayers or songs or tithes to be devoted to being soul first and physical second.  I admire women who work at soul level.

To admire someone means to find those that reflect the best in you, the best you wish to be.  I admire honest, authentic women whose very aura radiates with their truth;  not their clothing, their hairstyle, to scores on test, their careers, but those women who live their truths.  

I admire women who do not put on airs nor try to be what others expect them to be.  I admire women who are kind to others, to know that they choose kindness over retaliation, to women who choose to serve others less fortunate than themselves.  I love women who are willing to serve the dying, the lonely, the lost, and not lose themselves in that service.  

I admire women who have picked themselves up off the ground, dusted themselves off, and stride into Life with renewed vigor and grace and dignity.  I love women who are filled with joy at the smallest of things.  I admire women who can sit on th floor and play with handicapped children, or dance with those most would not dance with, would hold a snotty-nosed child and not care about their blouses.  I admire women who know, without words, what another is speaking of, or not able to speak of, and know the compassion and care that is needed.  I admire women who serve others before themselves.  Yes, these things I admire.

I admire women who can shake of frustration, embarrassment, and tense situations with laughter and humor that sets all at ease.  I admire women who can laugh at themselves rather than sink into self-degradation of perpetual sadness and guilt and shame.  I glorify them because they make making those errors, ourselves, less serious because they , and I, can see the humor in it all.

You see, what I admire, I most wish to be and to have.  And to meet a sister out on the rough road who displays even one of these things, is a breath of fresh air for me.  There is hope, then, in this heard world.  

In my art journal, I have drawn a figure I am not even close to being.  In her is the dignity and grace I so admire and strive for.  Can you do an art journal page, a painting, a poem, that speaks to admiration?  Yes, you can!

©Carol Desjarlais 9.13.19