Clearly, it's been a while. And true to old Tara form, I've started about 6 different drafts of posts here in my Word Press dashboard. I pile things on and make uninhabitable spaces for work. Well, for the work I want to do in my own body and brain and pages, in my own way.
Here's a fun fact: we're all different! Duh, right? We're all so beautifully similar and yet so ridiculously different. More specifically, we all work differently. At different paces, at different times, with varying degrees of stress or pressure or motivation. This is similar to the ways in which we learn, though the more I think about it, the more I believe there are infinitely more ways to do work. To get it done. To put forth effort that feels good, that creates something or makes something happen. To feel good about that work. Satisfied. Free. Productive. Important.
That's a lot of fragmented sentences.
down and getting rooted. And it was a good few months for me because I kept that mantra, but now I'm thinking about growth and transformation. I'm thinking about this because generally we, as a culture, love the turn of a new year. It gives us a collective excuse to try and let go of bad habits, to put forth grand intentions and resolutions to get shit done again. To shed excess, gain goodness. To feel better, more productive, more useful and important on this earth. We make it huge and big! And we try to make it all happen after a big party, a sometimes painful detox, and within the first few hours of one small, day.
And we sometimes succeed. Sometimes, we make one change that works, or we begin making space in our houses or bodies or relationships or jobs for all the stuff we've carried around in our brains about how good we'll be on this earth in this one measly life. But generally, we fail. In different ways, we fail. And I think one reason we fail is because we try to do things like everyone else. We see people near us that do things well that we want to do well and we try to replicate that. We are copycats. We have a hard time seeing our own unique strengths and differences.
And, we're afraid. We're afraid to sit still. We're afraid that when we sit still, in the quiet of our bodies and brains, we'll hear all that fear and self-doubt louder than we've ever heard it before. And when we hear that fear so loud and so bright, we'll give into it. We'll give up.
what we hear first
So, in really beautiful ways, we look to each other for clues on how to be the healthiest, write the best novel, sing the best song, dance the most beautiful dance, be the best parent and girlfriend and daughter and teacher and doctor and construction worker and bus driver and
What we truly fail to realize is that what we fear the most is usually what is best for us. If we can be still an quiet and move past the mean voice, we can actually hear something. We realize that we are not less than because we are different. We are nothing like the friend who lost the most weight and kept it off by running 3 times a week and quitting gluten and red meat. My friend, the writer who is done with a book because she kept to a schedule every day and met a certain word count 5 times a week consistently for almost a year, is not ME. Your colleague, the one who reads every story she teaches her college freshman 3 times before taking structured notes and then teaching from them, is not YOU.
2014, for me, is not about resolving to be better, but about acceptance. A resolve feels like a rejection of who I've been, and I don't want to do that anymore. I've learned a lot about others and who I am from being a copycat. In many ways, this is why we're human and maybe how our intelligence and creativity is related and communal. And though there are some changes I do want to make, especially in regard to productivity and the work that I do on this earth, the passions I want to cultivate and leave behind in some small way, I'm trying not to force it. So, with the help of a beautiful therapist who, instead of focusing on my failures and weaknesses in order to medicate them, is helping me find my unique strengths in the garden of my personality, and then showing me how to water them carefully, I'm trying to get deeper. I'm trying to listen and be fearless against the mean, chattering voice of self-doubt, and see what's underneath. I want to hear that voice that says, you are exactly who you are supposed to be.
I'm trying to truly find out what I have to offer, and to stop comparing myself to others: other academics and writers and researchers and college professors and yoga teachers and girlfriends and writers and human beings.
And in this, there is a sort of resolve to purge bad habits; but, for me, it has to be gradual. I feared the list I've made for myself and the stack of unwritten blog posts, and the few days I've given myself to plan teaching before the semester starts, and the snippets of images for unwritten poems, and the stack of everything to do because, really, I didn't know how to do it. I kept trying on other people's healthy habits and styles of productivity and supposed success stories (but let's face it, we all struggle, right? We all think other people have an easier garden to till.) And it felt like a force. I resisted. I couldn't feel my own roots and foundation, the truth of who I am, so how the hell was I supposed to grow and offer myself into this crazy world?
And so, I'm letting transformation and change happen on its own terms. I'm opening to change and setting my intentions on the things I want to do, and for once, trying to find my own unique ways to do them. This is a bit of an abstract post, so here is something concrete as an example: I am trying to accept that I teach with feeling and emotion. I want students to connect to characters as examples for how to connect more deeply with the big beautiful world around them. For me, teaching literature is more about empathy and emotional understanding through the stories we tell than the well-crafted allegory or plot-line, at least at the freshman level. And, it's about a radical self-acceptance. Reading and connecting to characters from all over the world and truly stepping into those people's shoes makes our own lives more meaningful. So many youngsters feel like lemmings on a conveyor belt to nowhere. They have to see where they fit in. Literature does this.
And I thought I was doing it wrong. The days that I let myself teach with this goal in mind worked pretty well, sometimes really really well. I left feeling good, like I had a little snippet of the real me. And the days where I forced myself into the teaching philosophy of another because I thought they were smarter than me or better at teaching than me, were failures. I got a lot of blank stares and my confidence plummeted. And that's when I went home to drink. And drink! And it's those moments I remember when I put off planning and let the anxiety build. And it's that anxiety I'm trying to make friends with and dissipate.
This is just one example of where this comes into my life. I'm sharing because I think it's an example many of my friends and colleagues can relate to. Are you struggling with depression or anxiety or self-doubt and paralyzing fear or procrastination because of something like this? Do you compare yourself to others, feel like an imposter, and avoid getting to know the real and true, beautiful you?
Cheesy? Maybe. But I like cheese.
Be you. Get to know yourself. It's a process, and it's hard, and it is never-ending. But it's worth it. The change comes on its own time, gradually, organically, like a tree in the forest of your unique effing soul. Let's do it together.
Full Post
No comments:
Post a Comment