Liz Lavish

When you have been living a spare, unsettled, and overly self-effacing life, there are certain words that are a bit of a reproach to you.  The one that perhaps comes to mind first, and which I have been trying recently just to play around with, is “lavish.”  Some synonyms are “sumptuous,” “rich,” “extravagant,” and “luxurious.”  As a verb, “to lavish upon” means to be exceedingly generous with. These are qualities that I have to say I have yet to fully experience, although I certainly have been at the receiving end of some amazing smaller blessings.  It’s the idea of “living large” and being in a state of permanent abundance that has in the past elicited negative, bitter, frustrated feelings in me.  I know that there are people out there who live a lavish lifestyle, but my brain hasn’t been able to even wrap itself around anything above and beyond “barely getting by,” which, law of attraction being what it is, explains why “lavish” has seemed so out of reach, so irritating, and so incapable of inspiring me forward.

However, a character I have loved in both the book “A Room with a View” and the film version is Eleanor Lavish, played in the latter by the incomparable Judi Dench.  Ms. Lavish is a turn-of-the-20th century lady novelist, and appears to be quite extraverted and unconventional, although in reality she is about as straitlaced and Edwardian as the rest of the characters. 

Eleanor does inspire in one respect, though.  What if, in fact, “lavish” was my proverbial “middle name”?  Liz Lavish!  What would Liz Lavish do differently with her life?  There is something liberating in just thinking about it.  I mused on this a few weeks ago before buying that lottery ticket (!) but it doesn’t hurt to revisit the topic with this new playful persona!

First of all, I would own a house.  A large, beautifully appointed house with many guest rooms. There, I’ve said it. I would own more clothes and shoes than I absolutely need, I would buy antiques, and shop for food, clothes and gifts with little to no regard for price.  I would attend choral evensong several times a week, at different cathedrals and chapels, and drink champagne more than once a year.

But what surprised me on this quest to align with my inner Liz Lavish was how quickly I started to want to give away money. This week, there was a news article about how many English cathedrals have started to put off essential upkeep – I had a vision of Liz Lavish sitting down at her desk and writing large checks to all of them, and to organ restoration funds and choirs, particularly girls’ choir programs.  I would give substantial gifts to all the educational institutions I have ever attended.  I would give large thank-you gifts to the people and institutions that have helped me most over the last few years.  I would donate to funds that help underprivileged girls go to college and find lives that they are passionate about.  And I would start a trust to assist deeply spiritual people who need meditative retreat time, which either I would provide or help them find.

The most fun idea of all was this; I would give the “party to end all parties.”  This party would be lavish in every sense of the word, with catered food and drink, gorgeous flowers, games and outside play, and perhaps a fun theme.  But even though I might dress in a blue linen dress with white pearls like my grandmother and great-aunts used to do (I am determined to start doing that!), it wouldn’t be one of those “kiss-kiss” snooty parties.  No, I would invite dozens of people who mean the world to me, and I’d greet them at the door with a warm, grateful bear hug.  Church musicians would rub shoulders with former residents of the YWCA, folk singers with mountain climbers, aristocrats with new agers and artists, and scholars with sailors.  Any of my friends who are non-mobile or unwell, I would transport to the party in comfort, and help them find a way to take part.  I would run around, introducing everyone to everyone, in the calm sense that all of them would find common ground.  It would be the best party anyone had ever been to!   

Liz Lavish.  Hmmm….oh dear, I think she is the real me!  After all, it’s all an inner game, isn’t it, and at this point I will try every trick in the book to move forward!  Without worrying too much about TUT’s “cursed hows,” I’m going to continue to practice her energy on a daily basis.  And if I have nothing else but lavish love and lavish writing to give away at first, hey, at least that’s a start!  Maybe you have an alter-ego under the surface too?  To find him or her, just listen for that word that irritates the heck out of you!