This week has been a wild week emotionally. I described it earlier as a roller coaster but that’s much more pleasurable than this ride. There has been the urge to throw my head back & scream though.
I’ve been back in the monkey mind about getting a real job. For a class assignment in yet another prosperity class, I wrote in a paper on Tuesday:
… I was called to really finally step into my power. Writing, creating artwork, giving eulogies, being a Prayer Practitioner, sitting with the dying, public speaking, teaching, counseling and a myriad of other activities that are about contributing more to the world; these were the ways that I felt both inspired and inspiring. It was about stepping into my life’s work. Playing it safe hasn’t worked well for the past year, the answer isn’t taking a “real” job with a regular paycheck & benefits, the answer is to actually say YES to the things that I love. I need to know deep within that what I am called to do is the REAL JOB, I am a valuable asset to the world around me doing what I do & Being who I am and that if I Trust my calling it would lead to a different experience. Security comes from Faith, Faith that God is my source.
That night, I had a lovely dream of hanging out with Patti Digh, and there was a moment when she looked me in the eyes & matter-of-factly asks, “so, what’s your stuck story?”. While I recall most of the dream details like the teal & white of the gift wrap around the cobalt bottles, I don’t remember what I said — I’m sure it was whiny –but when I awoke the reasons seemed profound . Still not as profound as her response, “Oh! So you think all of that is reality!”
After I journalled the dream I opened her book Creative is a Verb randomly to page 20 where it read:
Underneath all these deflections is a belief that our lives are divided into two parts: The Real Part, and The Creative Part Maybe those shouldn’t be separated in the way we’ve been taught. Maybe the Real Part is the Creative Part. And maybe, just maybe that Creative Part is the Real Part.
Seriously, I’m still amazed by the serendipity and synchronicity of that specific page at that exact moment. Had I read it before, hence triggering the dream or causing the page to open to that spot? I don’t remember it. Three days later, it still makes me cry reading that though. It brings up such a sadness how much I discount what I bring to the world and a longing to really show up fully and out loud and a hope that maybe, just maybe, its True. (Side note: The irony is not lost on me that I still think I’m not being real with this beet red short spiky hair. Can’t quite keep a lid on the Twinkling Pixie Fairy no matter how much I try.)
Yesterday started in a funk. Even after 100 repetitions of “I surrender to the power and presence of God within me” for the class assignment, I was still not feeling in the least bit surrendered nor the presence of God within me. Yet, when a text came through asking “Feel like being a strong shoulder 4 a minute?” I agreed in spite of myself. I listened to a friend mirror my own questions of self worth & doubt about making a difference in the world. When my own words didn’t come, I borrowed some from Marianne Williamson. Of course, I opened directly to a page talking about surrendering. Then came a prayer from the heart. After sharing words of wisdom we both needed, I found myself singing in the car on my way to a clients. Surrender had snuck up on me, I felt peaceful. Getting to hear my own wisdom by channeling it for a friend was a huge gift from her. Guess it is true:A bell’s not a bell ’til you ring it, A song’s not a song ’til you sing it, Love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay, Love isn’t love ’til you give it away! Oscar Hammerstein II
The funk was back early evening. Gotta pay the rent somehow. So there I am, looking on Craigslist & saw a posting for a jewelery artist (can we just politely ignore that I was still looking in the jobs section after all of that great insight?) and sent off an excited email exclaiming what a perfect team member I would be “once you realize what a quirky yet qualified quality I would bring to your studio”. I waxed eloquent about how creative I was. Going to sleep with that fresh on my mind, I awoke at 4:30 wanting to be ready for show & tell should she call. I gathered together lots of examples of my jewelry making skills, my creativity and range of craftsmanship. There’s a plate to show my lettering skills, a sewn mandala to illustrate fine motor ability and even collage to show my high level of accuracy. I hadn’t even gotten a fraction of what I have created in the past 20 years & looking at the spread & realized I can’t whine anymore about not being creative. A mentor once told me that non-creative people don’t cry about not being creative, they just don’t worry about creativity the same as artists do. I have a crush on my creativity; why is it that when we have a crush on someone that we run away rather than risk rejection? Shhh, we won’t mention that I would almost pay to have that jewelry position. Yet, here I am, not yet setting up my own craft business & still willing to play in someone else’s. Holy smoke! I guess I still think all of that is reality.
So, what is Real? Words of wisdom from a favorite children’s book:
Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
― Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit