Tag Archives: writing

The artist and her shadow

22 Jul

I sit with fear a lot these days. And I wrestle with what feels like needing permission.  

‘Permission…for what? From whom? Why am I so scared?’

Permission to exist as I am. To speak from the center of my soul without translation. To create without asking if it’s useful, marketable or coherent. To offer my work- my voice, my drawings, my breath – as it is, as I am: sacred, unfinished, vibrating with mystery.

Permission? ……from the legacy that says be competent. Be perfect. Be in control. Be of use. Be polite. (But do not cry too loud. Do not rage. Do not fail. Do not make a mess….…)

………….from myself- from the small-me who was brilliant and strange and radiant and really needed a witness, not a boatload of managers…

I’m scared because I feel my body remembers. It remembers how dangerous visibility once was. How costly failure was. How tight the corset of expectations has always been.

And yet here I am- breathing, speaking, tending to my transformation. Feeling the anger, the fear, the fragility, the restlessness, the tenderness – and not to calcify it, but to offer it ample space. Not erasing my old stories but letting the threads complete a weave through my voice, my art, my life, my becoming.

I speak all day with people who voice fears, cries of anguish, deep sorrows, regrets and lost dreams. I’m learning a lot. Opening up. I see that we all contain radiance and rage, control and surrender, service and sorrow.  We are all busy braiding grief and reverence together, in our own beautiful way.

I’m tending to transformation like a rite of passage. A portal to be walked through. A doorway into who-I-could-be at the cost of what I have been.   I’m afraid because it’s time. Time to begin without certainty or formula. Not foolish, but sacred. For all of us doing this work, it’s like we are the midwife and the child- birthing ourselves through this sacred mess. Oof.

I’m finding that I don’t have to fight or fix my fear, I hold her, and then I speak. It’s more of a posture, the luminous clarity of belonging to yourself, with fear resting beside you and your voice gently rising anyway.

As for fear? Let her sit beside you. Let her rest her head on your shoulder. You don’t have to cast her out.

Just don’t let her hold the mic anymore.

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New beginnings..from endings

26 Jun

Why don’t I do what I want to do? Why am I afraid? This New Moon, I’m planting seeds of desire. Because who really wants to plant seeds of discord that will reflect back the same? No thanks.

So, by posting this video (below), which may be bad, or good- the point for me was to post it. To post a video for new moon. On the new moon. Not about the moon per se, but the cycle it represents, that of preparation for the understanding that Life is very much inclusive of this thing we call Death.

If you’ve watched it, the absolute clincher for me in actually sucking it up and deciding to post it was that my intended length was 11 minutes. Voila, the video clocks in at 11:08. oy.

This for sure today, was the thing that scared me most. A done deal, no justifications necessary for my intellect, terrifying to my emotions. What if I suck…I’m not an expert…Oh fer feks sek. Get over it.

That said, my mom’s dementia scares me, and the fact that on her discharge papers from the hospital yesterday, it clearly states she was admitted with DVT (deep vein thrombosis) in pregnancy.

WTliteralF.

I’m gonna have a sibling! Matt’s gonna be a middle child! Dear God. She’s 87.

Anyway, it gave us a laugh in an otherwise fraught two weeks. Oliver if it’s a boy, Bethany for a girl…

So that thing you want to do? The Thing that is so clearly your next step? The thing that only you know how to do? The thing you cannot do? Just Do It. (no diggety)

Find that person who will gently nudge you in the right direction. That person that when you look them directly in the eyes will tell you: Yes. It may be scary, may require laying down a burden of past beliefs, probably requires a whole new outlook. But yes, you are indeed the only one suited for the job. No one else can ‘do’ your next step. Likewise, this time, no one else (but you) can look you square in the eyes and say ‘It’s go time.’ 

my podcast beginning… Notes fron the Edge.

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