What an absolute GAS that Anne Lamott herself found my original “10 things I’ve learned from Anne Lamott” post and linked to it a few times over the last month, calling it “Annie 101.” Love.

Man, if I didn’t already know that my self-esteem wasn’t going to arrive by email (or Facebook or Twitter), this would have me feeling really good about myself. Thankfully, I am much more grounded than all that.

I got to thinking about all the things I’ve learned (and the rest of you have clearly learned) from AL, so I thought it would be fun to post one more tribute to the one-and-only AL, and bring you 10 MORE things I’ve learned from Anne Lamott.

Here’s one last crash course in all things Annie. These are words to live by . . .

1. “radical self care” (a.k.a. rub lotion on your thighs) – one  of the ways we get through this tough world is by being there for ourselves in the same way we would a friend. Treating ourselves with dignity. Taking care of ourselves, even (or especially) the parts of ourselves that we’re somewhat down on (i.e. the thighs). Loving even the least of these. . . . just in time for summer.

2. it’s very rare that we’re all depressed at the exact same time” – there is always someone to call. We do not go it alone. Our job is to reach out and trust that someone will be well enough to help us through our moment.

3. “one-inch picture frame” – what I like about all of AL’s writing advice is that it’s actually life advice. Genius. Think of picking up a one-inch picture frame and writing just what you might be able to see, hypothetically, through that small frame. One scene. One conversation. One memory. In other words, don’t self-sabotage by trying to take on something so monumental it will never happen. You can finish an entire book, one tiny frame at a time. Similarly, we may not be able to determine an outcome. But if we can take one tiny step at a time, we can make a long journey little by little.

4. “you don’t have that kind of time” – this one always gets me. Probably because I’m so prone to worrying about things that really have no lasting consequence. When AL’s best friend was close to her death, they went shopping together for AL to find a skimpy dress to impress her bad boyfriend. She tried on a little number and asked her friend if it made her look big in the hips. And her friend, sitting in a wheelchair and wearing a wig, said: “Annie, you don’t have that kind of time.” How much time do we waste on things that DO NOT MATTER? And how much time do we spend on the things that do?

5. “FEAR = the Frantic Effort to Appear Recovered”— to the extent that we need to look like we’re doing well . . . to that extent, nothing will work. This hits me right between the eyes. How much effort goes into image-maintenance, affectation, appearance. Ugghhhhh. At the heart of this frenzy is fear.

6. “everything is grist for the mill” – all the pain, all the joy, all of life is raw material that can become something more. It’s not just the good stuff that has some sort of redeeming value. Everything is grist for the mill.

7. “you own what happened to you” – anything and everything that happened to you is yours. We are not required to protect others. We are allowed to tell our own stories. In their entirety. Period.

8. “the truth is always the answer” – AL reminds us over and over that good writing is about telling the truth. She also reminds us that the truth is rarely ever convenient. The good news. And the bad news. But the truth can change us and can help us find out who we are.

9. “if God hates all the same people you do, you’ve got a problem” – doesn’t this just nail you to the wall? How many times have we all prided ourselves on defining how close to God’s heart we are by the people we despise? AL uses the word self-aggrandizing to define this kind of behavior, and she’s right on. Many of us believe God himself/herself has cosigned on our exact way of seeing things. Perhaps a bit misguided.

10. “there is no shortcut” – you may need to write six pages to get to the one paragraph you were after all along, and there was no shortcut to getting to that one paragraph. You may have to write a whole book that is wrong in order to get the right one written (I’ve been there). Similarly, we cannot navigate our way through life perfectly, arriving at wholeness and healing by way of any kind of direct flight, express train, 5-easy-steps. There are going to have to be detours, missteps, even doubling back and trying all over again. This is life. There is no shortcut. That’s what makes a great story.

As I asked you in the first installment of “10 things:” which one of these do you most love and why?