Holiness Walking

what I learned from Abraham Lincoln

In honor of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, I am posting an essay I wrote for a woman’s magazine to which I was a contributor and at which I came close to being fired for submitting this piece. I was told that my words had so maligned and butchered our 16th president that he would turn over in his grave. I disagreed, natch, because I’d read so many tomes on Lincoln—his brilliance, his humor, his quirks, his heart the size of Jupiter—and told them he would have laughed his raucous hoots at the way I interpreted his behavior. They were not convinced. I wrote a substitute essay and kept this one close for days like today, his 217th birthday, to honor the man I think of as Holiness Walking.

When my husband gave me Team of Rivals, Doris Kearns Goodwin’s book about Abraham Lincoln, I dismissed it as one of those spousal-gifts, like the cappuccino maker he gave me on our first Valentine’s Day together (instead of the peridot earrings about which I’d dropped many graceful hints). When I eventually picked up the book, I recognized his magnanimity, his kindness and his wisdom. Now, years after reading Goodwin’s book, I still dream about Lincoln, recall statements he made, ask myself what he would do in seemingly impossible situations. And although at 6’4” and rail-thin, Lincoln did not have a food-and-eating challenge, I nonetheless gleaned wisdom from his life about how to handle [what people call] addiction and what really matters. Here’s what I learned from him:

Take Time to Do What You Love: Sometimes we get so caught up in the have-to’s of our lives, sometimes we feel so rushed and stressed, that we make the choice to drop out the electives—the rest time, the reading time, the play time. But, as I’ve learned from our 16th president, you can’t do your job well unless you take care of yourself at the same time. In his first years as president, Lincoln went to the theater more than a hundred times. He took daily carriage rides with his family and friends. He read books he loved, recited poetry out loud. He understood the value of nourishing himself daily, of stopping the have-to’s and engaging in the want-to’s. If someone who ran the country while managing a civil war could do that, so can we.

Don’t Pay Attention to Criticism: I often get letters from people who tell me that they turn to food when their friends or families or bosses speak to them in words that are less than kind. It’s important, I tell them, to leave the criticism where it belongs: in the mind of the person who makes it. When someone criticizes me, doesn’t like my writing, I remind myself that Lincoln’s critics were merciless: They called him dumb, ignorant, a buffoon. He said, “If I were to try to read, much less answer, all the attacks made on me, this shop might as well be closed for any other business.” Ask yourself how you allow the internal or external critics to shut your life down. Then, use Lincoln as a role model and don’t let them.

Never Miss an Opportunity to Laugh: Most of us are so terribly serious about almost everything. The news of the day, our latest perceived rejection, the mish-mash of emails we sent back and forth with a friend. But one moment of laughter, one joke, one streak of levity can remind us that our perspective has shrunk and that goodness abounds. Despite the seriousness of the ongoing war and his many responsibilities, Lincoln was known for cracking jokes during cabinet meetings that were fraught with tension. He said, “With the fearful strain that is on me day and night, if I did not laugh, I should die.”

Take Your Time: The pain from any addiction can be so intense that we become impatient with ourselves. We want to wake up healed tomorrow. The truth is that if we’ve been using anything—doom scrolling, watching television, eating—to distract or numb ourselves for years, then it’s going to take some time to unwind the pattern. During his presidency, Lincoln was often criticized for not moving fast enough, for not making speedy decisions, but he didn’t let the pressure force him to do anything before he was ready. He said, “I walk slowly but I never walk backward.” Me too. I move at soul speed. Very slowly.

Diets Don’t Work: Since Lincoln was 6’4” and rather skinny, and since the fashion for women in the 1860s was not what it is today—rail-thin—he didn’t exactly speak to this issue of diets. But what he did say was that “The best way to get a bad law repealed is to enforce is strictly.” I am almost certain that he would forgive me (he was, besides being brilliant, incredibly forgiving) for using his statement as a reminder that being strict and rigid does not lead to change. Healing and change happen through understanding and acceptance, not through force, deprivation, guilt or punishment. Love heals, shame does not.

Be Your Own Best Friend: No one knows, not even your closest friend or your spouse, what it’s like to be you. To wake up in your skin, to live with the mixture of feelings, thoughts, impulses, dreams, conflicts and passions that are utterly unique to you. Ask for help. Seek counsel. But know that in the end, it is you, your heart, your guidance, your wisdom that you must trust. Notice what knocks at the door of your heart, what enlivens you, what inspires you, what energizes you. Follow that. Trust that. You will never be sorry. Lincoln said, “I desire so to conduct the affairs of this administration that if at the end... I have lost every other friend on earth, I shall at least have one friend left, and that friend shall be down inside of me.” From his venerable mouth to our vulnerable hearts, may it always be so.