It kind of feels like a punishment instead of a help when you are in the midst of what seems like a major existential crisis and the only slim advice you get is “relax” or “it will all be okay” or “the universe has your back.”
It feels like you’re bloody (bloody, tho?) doomed, in a way, when you’re bombarded with these disjointed pop-spiritual messages that sound as though all you have to do is simply fit in to an angel-cookie-cut-out version of the higher truth or plug-in to some secret code for self-love that everybody else seems to have figured out but you.
One of the things I rail against is being told how it is, how it has to be, how it’s always been. I’m not interested in being force-fed (or force feeding anyone else, frankly) a slew of complicated systems or beliefs or rules. I want, desire and actively seek out a spiritual connection that works.
That’s why when I delve into spiritual (and creative) study / reading / practice / action, I consciously try to be sure I approach with a mindset of willing openness, of loving curiosity, of a strange sort of reverent playfulness.
Right, so we’ll get to building your sexy ass confidence in just a second, good friend.
First tho, here’s a fun trick to try if you’d like to testyour creative confidence; publish a blog post about erotica, get everybody all seduced and lathered up, and then come back a week later and publish another blog post.
About anything else.
Post about something else – after riffing about touching and stroking and fingering – and expect anyone to give a shit about what could possibly come after all that goodness.
I hear you. I know. But never fear, my love. I’ve got you. I am not afraid.
I have something even hotter to talk about this week, if you can possibly fathom that (I realize a blogger with any sense at all would be concerned about deliberately stacking this kind of dangerous pyramid scheme of expectations but nobody’s here to play it safe, I sincerely hope).
Fair warning, lovers: This one will be very different from the others. (Are you reading this at the office, by the way? Because you might not want to be reading this at the office. But then again, maybe you really do.)
Consistency is divine but so is disruption. So is surprise.
This post is not about how to’s or fixing or changing anything. It’s about feeling.
Feeling, it seems to me, is a precious and increasingly scarce form of artistry. People are numbed out all over the damn place trying to avoid feelings of pain but also, in more cases than we seem to realize, trying to avoid feelings of good honest organic pleasure (because, you know, the guilt and the guilt and the guilt and everything – and then there’s the guilt).
Odd things, we.
Maybe it’s better (more accurate? more tragic?) to say that avoiding our feelings has become a twisted art form in itself.
Somehow, in these overcharged, overstimulating, hyper-sexed times, we end up numb and ashamed when all we really crave is to be touched and awakened.
A weird thing happens to otherwise normal people when we attempt to level with each other about work.
People seem to act like if they were to start doing the work they truly loved, other people will think they are colossally selfish / stupid / immature and begin throwing themselves out of seven story buildings or lighting themselves on fire in protest.
We act like if we want to be artists we’ll need to prove we’re “allowed” by only doing what we long to do as a “nice hobby” or in a damp cellar by dank (dank?) candlelight where no one has to see us in all our crazy.
We seem to think that if we were to work on something that we totally dig, this may simultaneously cause our families to implode, our lovers to walk out, our children to disown us, our very physical security to be threatened by some invisible bully.
We think we don’t deserve it. We think they can’t handle it. We think it has to be a big fucking deal and we’ll need to ceremonially trade in everything we’ve earned in our entire lives up to this point in exchange for the right to pursue our creative passions.
But you know what actually happens to us and to other people when we finally dare to start working on our dream?