Today I’ve got more advice for you all. This week’s offering comes from the lovely Jessie from Young Georgia Love. I came across her blog a couple of weeks ago and I just went through her entire archive in a day and a half. Naturally I’m delighted that she’s here to share some wise advice with us.

First off, hello readers of A Simple Cup of Tea! I’m so excited Karen asked me to participate in her advice series over here; it’s so cool! I’m Jessie and I run Young Georgia Love, a blog about enjoying my life to its absolute fullest. My advice comes from my dear old dad. My dad is like my best friend, and I am so thankful to have him in my life. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever known. Heck, he even bought me a corsage for my prom when he knew I wasn’t going with a guy!

Alright, so. Let’s get down to business. I want to set up the scene for y’all, first. I am five years old. I am riding in the car with my dad through Atlanta and we’re listening to Garrison Keillor tell a story of Lake Wobegon. At some point, Garrison’s story inspires my dad to teach his daughter a very valuable lesson. To this day, I have no idea what stirred my father to tell me this.

Regardless, as we’re driving through the city, my father lowers the volume and looks at me. “Jessie,” he says to young me, “I want to tell you something. This is very important and I want you to never ever forget it, okay?” Being the daddy’s girl that I was, I was very quick to enthusiastically nod and wait for my beloved father to say what ever it was his heart desired.

“Always remember this. At the end of the day, everybody’s shit stinks the same.”

And that was all he said. He just turned the radio back up and kept driving. We were done talking and I was left to wonder why my father had just cursed. As far as I was concerned, he had said a very bad word and Mom was going to be very mad at him. But I never told my mom. And I never really thought about it again. Until high school.

This may come as a shock, but I did not have a good go in high school. I actually had a pretty terrible time with it. I could just never understand the entire situation. One day after class I was walking to my locker and I overheard this group of girls laughing about some other girl. I don’t even remember what they were saying, but it was mean. And as I listened to them I rolled my eyes and thought to myself “What makes them think they’re so much better than her? Their shit all smells the same.”

And I was floored. I hadn’t even thought of those words since the day my father told them to me, and now I completely understood them. No one person is better than another. We have no right to pass judgement, to feel superior. At the end of the day, after all, everyone’s- well, I’m sure you can finish it for yourself.

Love and Luck,
Jessie:)

Another Tuesday so it’s time for more advice. This week’s advice comes from Kendra. She’s the editor of VivandLarry.com, Vivien Leigh expert and all-around great gal.

When the going gets tough…

I was in the library when I got the piece of advice that I’m sharing with the readers of A Simple Cup of Tea today. I remember the moment clearly, or, rather, the moment that led up to this. For the past 3 ½ years I’ve been working on a book project that’s very near and dear to my heart. Sacrifices have been made—I’ve invested so much of my time, so much of myself into this thing.

I knew there would be roadblocks. Nothing worth having ever comes easy. But when the first one was thrown at me I felt overwhelmed. It was huge and seemed insurmountable. I had been rejected, turned down for what I saw as a very important aspect of my project. You know it’s a big deal when you break down in tears in a public space and have to go sob in the bathroom. After composing myself, I went back to my computer and wrote an email to a fellow author explaining the situation. What was I going to do? How could I possibly get past this obstacle? He answered: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”

How many times have we all heard that one before? But I knew that it was true. If I wanted to see this to completion I couldn’t give up, despite the odds.

I wish I could say at this point that the advice has paid off and I’ve accomplished my goal of getting published. The truth is that I’m still working at it—still struggling and bumping into various obstacles, and having to pick myself up again. I’ve felt frustrated, let down, and have definitely had my moments of self -doubt. Many of my friends have had to listen to me wonder out loud whether I’ll ever get there in the end. They’re always patient and sympathetic, and when I’ve finished pouring out my frustration they kindly remind me of what I have always hoped and believed: that if I’m tough and keep working because I’m passionate about what I’m doing, I will succeed in the end.

It’s been exactly one week now since Nora Ephron passed away. I was talking to Casee (you know, that Girl who stole the Eiffel Tower) about  my absolute favourite movie of Nora’s and there was a bit of an eureka moment. It can hardly be a coïncidence that we both love You’ve Got Mail, right? Seeing as what I wanted to share about Nora’s wonderful work was way too much for one post Casee was gracious enough to want to participate in this two-parter about one of our favourite writers/directors and all-around wonderful woman.

When I was ten years old, and for about seven years afterward (with little diversion from tradition), Nora Ephron’s heartwarming “You’ve Got Mail” was the soundtrack to my family’s Friday nights.  It was, collectively, our favorite film and we never truly got tired of watching the love story between Joe Fox and Kathleen Kelly unfold again and again.  To this day the four of us – my mom, dad, sister and myself – will be apt to make a joke when a favorite line pertains to a current situation.  Every year in November: “Happy Thanksgiving.” “Happy…Thanksgiving…Bahck.”  A trip to Manhattan: “The Zipper Man! He repairs zippers on Amsterdam Avenue!”  And you can be sure the words “caviar” and “garnish” never go unnoticed.

When I was young, these little jokes and more were what kept me returning to the film.  But the remarkable thing – and the reason why I will always be grateful to Nora Ephron for bringing this film into my life – is the way it grew as I did.  There’s a remarkable amount of layers in it, and as I grew into adulthood new messages and meanings became clear to me.  I realized how much I can relate to Kathleen, how like her I am, how I share her love of books.  I also came to understand the depth of her relationships with Joe, with her mother, with her store; the movie was the ultimate illustration of life’s challenges, and here was this character who I felt so akin to getting through them, shedding her tears and indulging in her laughs and finally achieving her happily ever after.  As soon as I was old enough to appreciate these elements I discovered an entirely new appreciation for Nora Ephron, for her work as well as her outlook on life.  The foresight, the awareness that it must take for someone to tell a story that not only enchants a child, but ultimately inspires a young woman: this is the mark of a true treasure in the world.  This is a writer to be inspired by, a woman to admire, and a dedicated observer of life who truly got it.  And what she got she shared with the world – through comedy, through charm, through romance, and through relatable, honest emotion.

So as I remember Nora Ephron at this time when the world has lost her in body I know that I – and the rest of the world – will never lose her in spirit.  By introducing me to Kathleen Kelly, by writing these words that would delight me as a child and enrich me as an adult, she managed to give me a piece of myself.  And as I’ll never be able to hear a line from The Godfather without thinking of NY152 or read Ballet Shoes without thinking of Shopgirl, Nora’s heartfelt message through the film and the pieces of myself that I found within it will stay with me forever.

Things have calmed down a little bit for me now so we’re back with the Advice Series. This week’s advice is from the lovely Lizzie from Whims and Fancies. Take it away Liz!

Hi everybody,

This is Lizzie from Whims and Fancies.

I am really happy to be here because Karen is amazing and this space is wonderful. Seriously. I know that if I want to find something positive, enlightening, and uplifting on any day of the week, I just have to come here! Thank you, Karen! J

And today, I’m here to be a part of this blog’s advice series.

Initially, I thought that I would write about a piece of advice that someone gave me and I racked my brains trying to think of something insightful and catchy. But I was talking to my father one day and he told me something amazing. He said that his father used to tell him that it’s better to live for one day like a horse than for a hundred days like a donkey. And that is when it struck me. Even though my father never told me these words explicitly as a piece of advice, he had instilled in me this very same value, through his words and deeds. He is honest, and upright, and he never, ever deviates from his value system, even at the detriment of others.

In retrospect, I am aware that a lot of my good and bad traits can be traced directly to this piece of wisdom that his father told mine. My love for travel, my craving for books and new knowledge, my impatience for situations and people that are drudgerous and uninspiring, my constant changing of careers to find my calling, a hundred hobbies and skills all of which I am an amateur at—they are all part of me living like a horse. I do not know about the end and how awe-inspiring it will be, but my journey sure has been worthwhile.

This credo is pretty simple and it translates to this: As much as you can, do not sell out. Seek your soul and carry on. I watched the amazing We bought a zoo yesterday, and in it, the protagonist Benjamin Mee says something profound. “You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.” Sometimes things are really as simple as that. So yeah. Live like a horse by being insanely courageous for twenty seconds each time you are required to be brave. J

That’s all from me today. Hope you all have a lovely, lovely, lovely week ahead.

It’s Tuesday which means: time for some advice!

Today’s advice is from Melissa. She blogs at Suger Coat It; a blog about living the sweet life. Her blog’s rather sweet too so naturally I’m thrilled that she’ll be sharing some advice with us today.

Don’t take it so seriously.

This little gem of advice goes around and around. I think I heard it most when I was a teenager and young adult. I was a serious type with a tendency towards the dramatic. I was anxious, depressed, overwhelmed. Everything felt like it was the end of the world or at very least, the end of me. I got absolutely nothing done because I was in a perpetual state of chaos, panic and worry.

Then all at once the most influential people in my life all started saying the same thing. Don’t take it so seriously. Life is a game. Play with your whole heart, sure. But remember it’s a game. And you make up the rules.

Whether you are a success or not is determined by you. Whether you have everything you want or not, that is of your making. Life can be as simple or as complicated as you wish it to be.

I took some time to process this. But if I wasn’t serious, how could I make a difference in the world. If I pretended like life was a game, what was the point? What did I want for myself anyway, and who was helping me get it.

With some training and some practice, I was able to play the game. Give it my whole heart. Impact people and lives and not crash myself against the rocks doing so. While I might have broken my heart more times than I care to admit. I never broke it.

Life isn’t serious. Nobody gets out alive.

I’ve decided to switch the Advice Series to Tuesday as Mondays are incredibly busy for me these days. After a week of hiatus – me being in Poland and all that jazz – we’re back with the second installment of the series. Enjoy!

Hi guys, I am Magdalena from the recordologist. When Karen asked me to share a piece of advice on her blog, I jumped on the opportunity to do so for two reasons.

1. Her blog is one of my favorite blogs.
2. I instantly thought of something I was given four years ago when visiting my mother’s church.

It was Christmas, and the yearly ritual consisted of a festive service followed by a gift exchange. When I spotted a pink bag with lighter pink stripes, and the words Victoria’s Secret printed on it, the eighteen-year-old inside of me jumped with excitement. Somehow the thought of a body-mist and a Victoria’s Secret lotion made me feel sexier. Like it had the power to officially make me an adult…

An adult. My own director (I thought).

Surrounded by this cloud of independence, and feeling of adulthood, I sprayed the sparkly bodymist on my wrist and smelled it, shocked to find out that the feeling of adulthood I expected didn’t come over me like an avalanche. Is this what adulthood is supposed to feel like? Sparkly and sticky? I wondered.

After recovering from the shock, my eyes rested inside the bag. There was a card. I opened it and read the words written on it:

Never lose the inner child in you.

This sentence became part of the strings of my heart, and words to live by. As young adults we spend so much time living in the future, and trying to grow up that we forget what it feels like to live in the present and to be perfectly content with who we are and what we have.

It takes being a child to know that it’s okay to rest in a bigger power, and not worry about the future. Celebrating the present and having fun with each day like it’s our favourite childhood game should be the way of living.

I’m getting up at 4.30 a.m. tomorrow. It’s going to hurt a lot.

Then I’m going to get on a bus with over 30 other students from my school. We’ll be on the bus for 12 hours. It’s going to hurt a lot.

But then after those twelve hours we’ll be in Wroclaw, Poland. We’ll rehearse, take a look at the town, get to meet new people and perform in a concert. It’s going to be awesome.

See you all in a week!

PS: I guest posted at English Muse again: Mum’s the word.

It’s the first Monday of May and that means that today is the start of a new series. I have asked some of my blogger friends and bloggers I admire (let’s face it, a lot of those are the same people…) to share the best/most hilarious/most absurd advice they have ever been given and then share the wisdom/hilarity with us all.

We kick off with the lovely Casee from The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower and Literary Inklings.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

 
Eleanor Roosevelt’s words have for a long time stood out to me as a model for living in passionate pursuit of one’s greatest wishes. The quote was first introduced to me by my mother, who gave me a metal bookmark with the words inscribed on it as a simple little gift, something she had spotted while out and about and she couldn’t deny its relevance to me.

As an introvert in an extroverted world I’ve always felt a bit out of society’s loop, growing up with a timid, anxious nature among a much more boisterous and confident society. It’s always left me living in a sort of reluctance to “get out there”, drawing me further into my own imagination. I liked books when reading wasn’t cool. I enjoyed a natural reticence and I was content with being alone when so many other girls were out flirting with the neighborhood boys or immersing themselves in the world of adolescent drama. It scared me that I was so different, and upon growing up I worried that I would never be able to achieve the things I wanted to – at first discovering what it was I wanted, and then later realizing that my greatest dream was to spend my life writing.

I never really gave up believing in my dreams, but I think my greatest fear was that the universe somehow had, or would, and that despite my eternal optimism things just wouldn’t work out. And I think through everything, now, as I pursue my goal of making a living as a writer, Eleanor‘s encouragement is always there moving me forward, telling me that the future is mine and that nothing – not even the universe – can ever take it away.

I’ve guest posted at English Muse again. Today’s post is all about the art of doing nothing and relaxing. Perfect to start a new week if you ask me…

You can check it out here.

I hope you had a lovely weekend!

Happy Easter to all my dear readers! I hope you’re all having a wonderful day to share with friends and family. As for me it’s a quite lovely day so far. You can read all about it at English Muse where I’ll be guest posting every Sunday from now on.

See you over there!

Have a great day!