Qualities

Over ten years ago now (!) I took a creative writing class the fall semester of my senior year of high school. The teacher, who was an artist in all ways, introduced a book to me during that semester...I haven't looked at it in years, and for some unknown reason, pulled it off of the shelf and dusted it off just last week. The inscription on the front page says, "Mari, Christmas 1999, from Mom & Dad." And the decade between then and now wears on my skin and in my bones.

The book is Nebraska author J. Ruth Gendler's The Book of Qualities. And oh, what a gem it is...100 pages in all, each page filled with a personification of a different quality...from Pleasure to Defeat to Liberation to Honesty and everywhere in between. I am enlivened by the descriptions, each one sending chills down my spine and putting my hairs on end. I will share just a few with you here tonight...

Courage

Courage has roots. She sleeps on a futon on the floor and lives close to the ground. Courage looks you straight in the eye. She is not impressed with powertrippers, and she knows first aid. Courage is not afraid to weep, and she is not afraid to pray, even when she is not sure who she is praying to. When Courage walks, it is clear she has made the journey from loneliness to solitude. The people who told me she is stern were not lying, they just forgot to mention that she is kind.

Anxiety

Anxiety is secretive. He does not trust anyone, not even his friends, Worry, Terror, Doubt and Panic. He has a way of glombing onto your skin like smog, and then you feel unclean. He likes to visit me late at night when I am alone and exhausted. I have never slept with him, but he kissed me on the forehead once, and I had a headache for two years. He is sure a nuisance to get out of the house. He has no respect for locks or curtains or doors. I speak from experience. It takes a cunning to get rid of him, a combination of anger, humor and self-respect. A bath helps too. He does not like to get wet. As a last result, if you are not near a bathtub, wet your face with tears.

Faith

Faith lives in the same apartment building as Doubt. When Faith was out of town visiting her uncle in the hospital, Doubt fed the cat and watered the asparagus fern. Faith is comfortable with Doubt because she grew up with him. Their mothers are cousins. Faith is not dogmatic about beliefs like some of her relatives. Her friends fear that Faith is a bit stupid. They whisper that she is naive and depends on Doubt to protect her from the meanness of life. In fact, it is the other way around. It is Faith who protects Doubt from Cynicism.

Perfection

Perfection is careful but not cautious. She burned her hands many times before she learned to pay attention. She says that hers is the most difficult job in the world. The post was vacant for nearly three years. Most people do not even make it past the first interview, and retirement is mandatory after nine years. About halfway through the fifth year Perfection started feeling like she was falling apart and dissolving into space. This recent episode humbled her. She had never realized how strongly we resist bring broken open. She discovered that her greatest strengths grew out of her strongest weaknesses. Perfection needs to keep moving. Otherwise she becomes swollen with her obsessions. She has learned to dance in the very center of her fears. She is not impressed by false modesty and the fronts we develop to hide our beauty. She is grieved by how fiercely we hate ourselves and yet refuse to change. She honors our flaws.

Pretty rich, yes? Amazing how true words emerge poignant, loud and clear - even across the decades of life. Gratifying sighs.