When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness. - Joseph Campbell
This summer, I accepted a co-executive director position with a arts-based non-profit. Before you go throwing confetti in my face, let me first clarify some things.
I still have my previous position with my current employer.
This position feeds my soul and not my wallet.
Now, proceed with the confetti. *dons protective garb*
Today, I visited an African American museum and cultural center here in Austin, TX to speak with their director about bringing our two missions together. It went swimmingly. As soon as I have more details firmed you'll be hearing a lot more about this next project but for now I just have to tell you...
The minute I left my meeting today, I remembered everything I have loved about community engagement. I was energized, alive, empowered and nearly intoxicated off of the joy of knowing we might just play a positive part in the development and artistic awareness of under-served children. It reminded me as I raced home on a brilliantly crisp fall morning in Austin, there is no greater satisfaction than the service we can offer to others. No matter how big or small.
It also reminded me just how much joy is a state of mind. A perspective. A lens. It cannot be found in wealth or things. But it can be found in giving of yourself for reasons that don't have a thing to do...with you.
- As lovely and empowering as thoughts are...thinking less from time to time lets something else...something spiritually powerful, in.
- There is incredible strength to found in vulnerability, but to experience it - you have to have the courage to accept your own weakness.
- People who truly love you will want to support you - but it's still up to you to tell them what you need. We truly do get by with a little help from our friends.
- The biggest truths are usually stated in ten words or less.
- No one can wrestle that truth from you - except of course...you.
This year has been hard. So hard in ways I don't always put in this space. Not just for me but for many around me...which makes it even more arduous. Despite this, I'm beginning to understand how much beauty there is in struggle. Not during the moments of anxiety but during those breaks in the action when you connect, when you love and you remember that you are loved in return. The tenderness you sometimes take for granted becomes the armor you use to fight another day.
Last week, the only place I could find some peace was under the spray of water in my shower stall. I stood there, longer than I normally would, letting hot water mingle with frustrated tears. Perhaps it was because my bathroom felt especially snug and warm; its enclosed space reminding me of a safety I haven't felt in what is now nearly three years. Maybe it was the healing power of water and the sound of it's falling giving me temporary privacy. Perhaps it was because my physical nudity made every part of me feel stripped. Whatever it was, in that moment I could admit in that shower that I was beaten. Physically, mentally and emotionally. Afraid. Faithless. Struggling to make a path to connect with a source of clarity that I usually keep tabs on. I spoke the words aloud..."I need help because I am so lost."
By the time I got out of the shower I was shriveled and shivery...but emptied of the contents making my belly a never-ending stew. As I crawled into bed and said prayers to whatever spiritual power you wish to call it, I made it clear that I understood that none of this stuff was going to magically be resolved by the might of my own hand or the might of my intellect or even my wayward ego. I was going to require some signs and assistance. Some spiritual intervention. And I had every intention on shutting up with my antics until it was revealed to me.
Revelations don't come with a trumpet blare or call for attention. They slip in quietly and wait to be acknowledged. Thankfully, they're willing to hang around until you extract your head from your tail so that you may see them.
Tonight, I rest well with clarity. I know I am loved. I know I have been loved. know that I am safe, even when flying blind. And I can find the beauty in all things big and small. Life can be good.
...Even when it's choking the crap out of you.
I've never been ashamed to fall flat on my face.
My Dad when I was little struggled to stay angry with me when I turned in a poor performance at school. By the time he got home, I had constructed my five page presentation on where I dropped the ball and how I was going to improve. So many times, the practice sermon he intended to deliver wound up becoming, "Okay. Good. Don't let it happen again."
I've never been afraid to go after what I want (professionally,creatively)...because I figure the worst that might happen is I'll be denied. But I'll never be denied for a lack of trying. I'm willing to work. I'm willing to fail. I'm willing to admit to you I failed. So long as I can also admit I learned something in the process.
But what happens socially? What happens when that fall on your face translates to a lack a self-worth? A big kick me sign on your back that says "I am largely undesirable because of *insert name of person or social event here.*" There's nothing worse then having to eat a little crow.
So what happens then? You busy yourself with trying to smack lipstick on the pig to save face until the pig runs away in the middle of the night with your cosmetics bag...or you own up to the fact that you are human and fallible and bask in the warmth and completion that comes with OWNING YOUR SHIT and building a deeper level of intimacy with yourself and others. Chasing pigs around might be fun for a moment...but you wind up ultimately looking like a bigger fool. Owning your shit? That's how you REALLY earn cool points.
You cannot help a (person, organization, group) if the Querent doesn't first give you an idea of how they need your help.
Last night, after listening to Mecca toss and turn with itchy ears and paws, I got up and tended her itchiness as best I could until she was comfortably snoring again. When I returned to bed, she was comforted and I was thoroughly entrenched in monkey mind, sorting through the list of things currently worrying me. Some of the items on that list are mine. Some of the items are not mine.
My stream of conscious went something like this:
"....what if mecca has a more serious issue than itching....whew, she's getting up there in age...I can't fathom saying goodbye to her...I wonder what the utility bill looks like this month...wonder if I can manage that in this pay period...not making enough money...need to review the budget again...can't believe the number of gray hairs I'm seeing...did I work out enough this week...I hate grocery shopping...I need to finish that report...how am I gonna complete these writing assignments...I hope _____ isn't pissed that I bailed on that meeting...I'm such a horrible friend/sister/daughter/worker...are all these natural disasters a sign of the end of the world...I need more music...why am I resenting so many people in my life right now for their inability to bring me peace....goddamn I feel so lonely right now...I need to trim mecca's nails...I need to mow the lawn...is that someone hitting the front door...what if someone tries to break in and kill us in our sleep...I don't do the roommate thing well...how in the hell am I going to pay for ...?"
Right now, I am in crisis mode. This is not perilous. Hell, it's a recession, professionally, personally or otherwise - we ALL are in crisis mode about something these days. But this mode forces me to review my own effectiveness. It also makes me realize that I can only lend help when I understand clearly what it is I can do to actually help. I'm at a crossroads with a project and I'm experiencing a lot of inner turmoil about it. I've got lots of lofty ideas and plans and simply not enough time to implement them. It's a cause I want to lend myself to greatly. But at the moment, all of my energy has to be focused to keeping my ship afloat which means, the only falling apples or holes in the dam I can devote emergency resources to...are my own. I can provide structured help if I'm working on something that has structure intact. Without that, you're asking me to stack apples on moving wagon. It's a horrific waste of time when time is a resource most of us can ill afford to waste.
I also need to be honest with others and myself about what I really and truly have the mental, physical and emotional resources to take on at this point. And that might be the hardest part of all. Realizing you might have bitten off more than you can chew and having to admit that to your studio audience when they have rested so much hope and expectation on your ability to pull a rabbit out of your hat.
I'm starting to think the remedy for sleep might just be taking away some of pins I'm trying to juggle. Either that, or use one of the pins to beat myself unconscious. Thank God I'm a lover, not a fighter.
