I realise that I have been believing the biggest lie.
It turns my guts to water. My stomach into a migration of butterflies and my legs to jelly.
Still. Despite everything I have done. And know. And written about. Still, I believe it deeply.
"What cunning lie can this be that can bamboozle a maiden as fine and fair as thou?" you enquire.
Well forsooth, I believed that there was a right answer.
To everything.
To... I don't know, let's just, for the sake of arguments say interviews. Or paintings.
That there was the possibility of getting it wrong.
And therefore that I could muck up. I could ruin it.
And therefore I needed to be scared. To hold back. To worry. To be careful. To plan. A lot. In my head. Until I felt I might explode.
This is the lie - that there is a right way. A right answer. A perfect Platonic form, hanging in the ether. And if we do not fulfil this invisible blue print, then shame, failure, doom, oblivion, blood, death, and lots of hairy legged spiders which will eat you alive as you sleep.
But it's a lie. Truly.
I can't. You can't ever get it wrong. It is simply impossible. Because there is no right. Only what you do, what you say.
This is not annoying post-modern relativism. It is truth.
What should be the most freeing part of creativity - the wide open ocean of infinite potential and possibility which stands wet and waiting for us - tends to scare us shitless. And we shake, and cry and shut down and run away, or define what success looks like in black and white rather than the myriad rainbow of colours available to us.
Blockages come always, always when you believe your own bullshit. When you believe that you are the source and that you can dry up, or fail. That you need to know all the answers. That people are expecting you to be an expert, to be perfect.
You are not. And you know it.
So just turn up, and open up.
And then watch as the magic unfolds, as even though you don't know what to say or how to express something.
Just turn up, and open up.
Stop being clever, being in control, having the answers. Be humble and play follow the leader with creativity/ flow/ consciousness/ spirit/ your unconscious/ higher self/ god, whatever you want to call it...
But show up and start.
So you see, as I just did, after I had gotten my knickers in a knot and thought I didn't have anything of value to say. And that I'd forgotten to paint... again. There is no right. Or wrong. It's like a spiritual alkaseltzer. My stomach has settled and the shaking has stopped. It can only be. So you might as well show up!
It turns my guts to water. My stomach into a migration of butterflies and my legs to jelly.
Still. Despite everything I have done. And know. And written about. Still, I believe it deeply.
"What cunning lie can this be that can bamboozle a maiden as fine and fair as thou?" you enquire.
Well forsooth, I believed that there was a right answer.
To everything.
To... I don't know, let's just, for the sake of arguments say interviews. Or paintings.
That there was the possibility of getting it wrong.
And therefore that I could muck up. I could ruin it.
And therefore I needed to be scared. To hold back. To worry. To be careful. To plan. A lot. In my head. Until I felt I might explode.
This is the lie - that there is a right way. A right answer. A perfect Platonic form, hanging in the ether. And if we do not fulfil this invisible blue print, then shame, failure, doom, oblivion, blood, death, and lots of hairy legged spiders which will eat you alive as you sleep.
But it's a lie. Truly.
I can't. You can't ever get it wrong. It is simply impossible. Because there is no right. Only what you do, what you say.
This is not annoying post-modern relativism. It is truth.
What should be the most freeing part of creativity - the wide open ocean of infinite potential and possibility which stands wet and waiting for us - tends to scare us shitless. And we shake, and cry and shut down and run away, or define what success looks like in black and white rather than the myriad rainbow of colours available to us.
Blockages come always, always when you believe your own bullshit. When you believe that you are the source and that you can dry up, or fail. That you need to know all the answers. That people are expecting you to be an expert, to be perfect.
You are not. And you know it.
So just turn up, and open up.
And then watch as the magic unfolds, as even though you don't know what to say or how to express something.
Just turn up, and open up.
Stop being clever, being in control, having the answers. Be humble and play follow the leader with creativity/ flow/ consciousness/ spirit/ your unconscious/ higher self/ god, whatever you want to call it...
But show up and start.
So you see, as I just did, after I had gotten my knickers in a knot and thought I didn't have anything of value to say. And that I'd forgotten to paint... again. There is no right. Or wrong. It's like a spiritual alkaseltzer. My stomach has settled and the shaking has stopped. It can only be. So you might as well show up!
Love this, Lucy. It did make me laugh. So true. I know it, and then forget it, and then have to remember it all over again. Why does that happen?!! It's so freeing when you remember that there's no wrong or right answer, no wrong or right decision, there's only what you choose to do, and then what you choose to do after that. And yes, remembering that I am not the source also takes the pressure off significantly hehe ;)
ReplyDeleteGah! As you can see, I still have sorted out my profile since the last time I commented ;) It's Maria Kayumi again from ABLA.
ReplyDeleteAs you know I adore getting message from My Higher Self. Please, whatever you do do NOT change your profile!
DeleteOh my - I LOVE this! :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you ....
Kx
Thank you, Thank you for this
ReplyDeleteI am delighted this has been so well received. The breakthrough I had was visceral, physical, not intellectual at all, yet, as always it came to me accompanied by words... but I didn't write them down right away, but continued painting for a couple of hours afterwards, with my new found sense of calm, so I felt I hadn't captured the experience fully... so very nearly didn't post this!
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of the Hayao Miyazaki film Kiki's Delivery Service where it shows how at times we lose faith in ourselves and feel as though our gifts have left us when in reality they are just dormant, waiting to be rediscovered through our courage to face our inner demons.
ReplyDeleteOh haven't come across that film, Kae, must check it out!
ReplyDeleteHello Lucy,
ReplyDeleteI read you post and agreed with every word. I have always refer to it as the 'fear'. The ugly thing which stops me from doing things because I might be wrong. Only with age have I been able to find the courage to stick two fingers up to the fear and be confident with who I am and what I create.
Thank you for an inspirational blog.