I’ve noticed something that really bugs me, wonderfully accomplished humans are introduced as the feature guest on a podcast and they inevitably say they feel old after the host recounts several decades of achievement.
Is this the sorry outcome after years of doing exactly what you hoped to do when you were young?
Imagine a young person thinking to themself, I want to write books, I want to fall in love and raise children, I want to have a multi-million-dollar business, I want to garden, I want to walk in the woods many times, I want to have a few cool outfits, I want to laugh with my friends. Through a combination of good luck and intention this young person lives two or three decades and gets some of that stuff done. Then they feel bad they aren’t young anymore.
So, at the beginning we feel insecure and anxious about what we have not yet been able to experience and accomplish and at the end we feel insecure and anxious about how much we have experienced and accomplished.
This is just stupid.
We are all getting older. It’s not a choice for anybody. There is no shame in it. Let’s never apologize for it again.
It’s better for everyone, sets a positive example, if we can appreciate where we are on the wheel. I am proud of all the walks around the block, the hundreds of thousands of hours of musical reverie I’ve indulged in, the millions of pages I’ve turned in books and in life. You can’t buy it at a store, you pay for it with time.
We encounter most creative endeavors when they are complete. It seems to be the default to imagine that they were conceived exactly as we see them but as an idea rather than a thing. For some reason people seem to think that thinking is how you get things done. You have an idea; you think about it and then you execute it. All the choices were made in the thinking. Thinking is the most important thing. Thinking is equivalent to intelligence. Thinking is the master.
But really, it’s nothing like this at all. Thinking is at best a tool in the hands of a mysterious master whose methods are almost magical.
To be clear, I do not believe in magic. I use the term in a poetic way. Magic conveys an ability to get results from a process that is not articulable. At least not at the beginning. Once it’s all done you can articulate or recite what happened, but you can’t make up that list in your head before you’ve started. You can try but it won’t work. Or it won’t work as anticipated. Something will go wrong. Wrong is too negative, something will just go different. And how the person or team responds to that is likely to be more influential on the outcome than the original vision.
Perhaps I think about this so often because I am a documentary editor. I am given something and told to make sense of it. It’s like doing a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle with no cover art to reference. It could seem that my profession flavors my other art, but I think, it’s the opposite, I came to it because I have an innate editing sensibility. I like to respond more than I like to construct. That’s what the face making is all about. I see something and respond to it. I have not made a single face that originated in my head first.
My abstracts are similar. I put a few marks on the page and everything else flows out of the choice. I usually try to make that choice as surprising to myself as possible so that I will be forced to really respond and not do an action that I have done before. I like art to be an adventure.
Some things, however, necessitate planning and careful execution, like building a house. What I am talking about doesn’t come into play during the construction of the building, planks do need to be measured and cut precisely. But what about the initial imagining of the house? You don’t measure your way into something novel, something never before seen, something special, precious, unique and surprising. You don’t tell your brain to just think it up. You have an impulse that you follow, like tracking an animal through the forest. You read the signs, you grow excited, you feel tense, you wonder if what you are hearing and sensing is real. Are you on a path or are you making a path with your constant trampling back and forth?
My brother texted me recently about a dream he had. He told me about it because he couldn’t believe his unconscious brain could author such a sophisticated story.
That’s not thinking but it is intelligence. It’s not consciously directed but it is available.
My husband just told me that if we are on a plane together and something starts to go wrong, he is going to sit with someone else because I get too upset.*
I don’t like this at all, but it’s kind of on me, right? I need to calm down.
I am not good at being calm when a lot of unpleasant unknowns are coming at me.
My first reaction is to short circuit and yell. I start making it all about me. How dare reality impinge on my wellbeing like this?! Neither admirable nor attractive, I too would skitter away if possible.
On the positive side, I usually get my shit back together reasonably fast. I don’t stay in that state for hours on end. I burn bright and quick. Since I really want to be a source of strength and pleasure for those in my company, I try to tidy up the emotional mess soon after it appears. But I just can’t seem to figure out how to nip it in the bud.
I hate sharing this because all I seem to hear is meditation mediation meditation. I know! And I do! My goodness. That’s how I am able to right the ship. I am very mindful. Mindful enough to know I am an animal and when I get scared, that’s not the time to try and pet me. I have to have my little moment of pure shock.
Life is quite challenging. It’s very hard to be perfect. If you’re stoic, which is awesome on bumpy airplanes, you might not be the most fun. If you’re emotional, which is taxing, you might give the best hugs. If you’re resourceful and effective, you might seem too competent to empathize. If you’re a wreck, you might be exciting but unreliable. You just can’t do it all and be it all. I would like to, to be everything to everybody. But I can’t and I don’t and I’m not. Oh well.
But I think I will try to be one iota more contained. An iota a day keeps the husband not away.
*Just in case you are new here, my husband said this in jest, and it was well deserved. He would not actually abandon me on a plane or anywhere. He is a very nice man. I am glad he said it because it’s important to know when you’re at the boundary of too annoying to put up with. If someone cares enough to give you a signal, you can retreat a few steps back and just be moderately annoying.
Sidewalk Face 