While in the company of writers, the stars aligned and shed light on my self

Once in a great while-- a very great while, I'll experience a life-transforming event. Back in the '80s Codependent No More fell off the shelf in Barnes and Noble, I picked it up and had to take two days off from work to read and process it. When I encountered Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth, I stayed in pajamas until I'd read it all the way through and taken notes.

Well this weekend, some creaky old door within my psyche flew wide open. It started when I was featured as visiting author at Alice Osborn's Wonderland Book Club to discuss Salt in the Sugar Bowl. Participants opened up about their own understanding of and experiences with issues of abandonment, the vulnerability associated with being authentic, tendencies to hide, self-protect and project.

Right after that session of honest reflection and sharing, I drove westward to Asheville to attend the North Carolina Writers Conference. Things got deeper when author Lee Smith stepped onto the podium as the keynote speaker. As far as I can tell, Lee Smith is about as authentic as they come. Her words, her accent, the rich and random stories that seem to percolate from her very being reveal, to me, a life fully lived and processed-- which she generously shares in almost raison d'être fashion. That was Friday night.

On Saturday, an itch--an irritation like an emotional pimple erupted. I had vague conversations about  "being an artist" with writers Danny Johnson, Crystal Simone Smith, Grace O'Casio, Rowena Mason, Alice Osborn, Maureen Sherbondy and Robin Muira, respectively. It was vague because I was unearthing and coming to grips with a self-defeating tendency I'd unknowingly cultivated-- that of public self-protection. I thank them all for their (unknowing) parts in clarifying something for me: Art cannot and should not occupy the same space as avoidance, pretense and toxic shame. 

I believe I have spent decades creating and presenting a self-protected aspect of myself. Parts of my story, my history, are dark and shadowy. These parts have made me gritty (and sometimes coarse). There are other aspects that are tender, optimistic and resilient. But all parts crave expression and acceptance. However, issues of trust, abandonment, fear of rejection and judgment have caused a general apprehension about the safety of being authentically who I am in light of all the places I have been.

I needed the company of artists at this point in my journey to reveal to me that artists can't hide. The general population may have the luxury of digesting societal norms and existing safely within their margins. But retreating to the safety zones might just do the artist in. In the end, our work, or at least my part of this work, is to have the courage to look under rocks and venture into the shadowy corners. Artists share and push themselves toward greater levels of honesty. We wrestle with and reveal aspects of experiences because they need to come out-- no matter how light or frivolous or dark. I don't believe the artist can concern herself with the perceptions of others, or burden herself with keeping up a persona. Such a tendency, I've learned, will consume the energy needed to turn over the boulders and hold them up long enough to capture what we've seen.

Happy isn't down the road....

A few months back I told my friend enthusiastically that I “might never actually retire.” I was referring to my teaching job. She thought I’d lost my mind. Never retire? For always, my ultimate goal had been to leave my day job so I could write full-time. A few days ago, with my lengthy summer vacation drawing to a close, she reminded me of my response—checking to see if sanity had returned. I love my time off, so I barely remembered saying such a thing. Never retire? What? So had I lost my mind when I said I might never stop teaching?

It dawned on me today just what happened! I’ve come to the place of  “acceptance” as a way of life.  Eckhart Tolle says, “Acceptance means: For now, this is what this situation, this moment, requires me to do, and so I do it willingly.” He goes on to say:

“When you make the present moment, instead of past and future, the focal point of your life, your ability to enjoy what you do—and with it the quality of your life—increases dramatically. … The ‘waiting to start living’ syndrome is one of the most common delusions of the unconscious state. Expansion and positive change on the outer level is much more likely to come into your life if you can enjoy what you are doing already. … Joy does not come from what you do, it flows into what you do and thus into this world from deep within you.”

So my response had everything to do with fully accepting the here and now, the present. Without even realizing it, I had lost the low-grade frustration and discontent that used to crop up randomly and frequently. I finally embraced the notion that a happy life is not something that’s waiting up ahead for us once all our conditions are satisfied. We often think that once we make more money, get rid of that extra twenty pounds, get a new job, get into a relationship, get the kids raised, fix the roof, get that wart removed, retire, or whatever, then we will finally be happy. 

People can feel depressed, anxious, disappointed, and chronically frustrated because the present state isn’t living up to the ideas they have about themselves and their lives. Since (as I so often say) life is a journey, it behooves us to keep our dreams and goals alive, but know in our hearts that our lives are here and now. If you died tomorrow, you will have died waiting to get to “happy.”

I’ll quote Eckhart one last time:

“Don’t ask your mind for permission to enjoy what you do. All you will get is plenty of reasons why you can’t enjoy it. ‘Not now,’ the mind will say. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy? There’s no time. Maybe tomorrow you can start enjoying...’ That tomorrow will never come unless you begin enjoying what you are doing now.”

So even though this is the last official day of my summer vacation, my soul is very happy because right here and now I’m drinking coffee and blogging in my pajamas.