Be Yourself, Everyone Else is Taken -Oscar Wilde

Why is it that when you are expected to do something that is creative in nature the process naturally stalls (even if those expectations come from yourself)?  I was afraid of this. In fact, it was one of the excuses that always held me back from starting a blog. That I wouldn't be able to think of anything to say. Let me rephrase that: that I wouldn't give myself permission to say the things I'm thinking.

It kind of reminds me of design school.  Especially this certain class where the final project was to draw up rough blue prints and a furniture layout, complete with swatches of upholstery and samples of paint colors. Sounds fun right? I thought so at first. But then there were all the rules and the grading scale. Was this design well thought out? Was it cohesive enough? Original enough? Did it serve its function as a living space as well being aesthetically pleasing? Would the instructor agree with my selections? Because there were so many colors and patterns and textures to choose from. It was quite overwhelming. I remember not being totally satisfied with my end result. It was at this juncture that I begin to doubt I would really love this as a career as much as I thought I would. I’m sure I would have made a fine interior designer but I'd always know where I get to have the most fun is within the walls of my own home. No rules or anyone’s design sense matter but my own.

Okay, that was a long metaphor. All that just to say, freedom of expression is a beautiful thing.  I am re-learning how to exercise that creative freedom as I share what I write with others. There’s this little book I've been reading that has been helping me along tremendously. It came via recommendation by one my favorite authors so of course I am soaking in every word of it like it’s truth passed down from God. The name of it is “Writing to Find Yourself: Learning to be more authentic through the art of writing” by writing coach Allison Vesterfelt.  This is just a short 100 page ebook, but I am taking my time working through each of the challenges she gives at the end of the chapters.

The chapter I’m currently on is about learning to speak up. Allison talks about struggling to tell her husband that his dieting and daily weighing in are causing her to be self conscious about her own appearance even though she is at a healthy weight. She wasn't expecting her husband to quit dieting, she was actually quite proud of him, she just needed to be heard. She didn't want her honesty to take a toll on his progress. 

I can identify with her through this chapter a lot because I’m the type of person who tends to keep her opinion to herself or at least waits until I feel I have something of weight to offer to the conversation. Like most introverts, small talk is difficult for me and something that I have to practice just so I can be socially acceptable. I also really dislike confrontation or stepping on peoples toes. I always try hard to filter my words, and when I don’t, I obsess over how the receiving person perceived what I said. “Oh, I hope I didn’t offend so and so…” This can be a little annoying in my brain, I have to admit. Half the time I don’t know whether I’m sensitive or just egotistical! Usually I have to convince myself that I can’t take back what I said and chances are they didn’t give what I said a second thought. And more often than not, that is the case.  Other times, if I do say something  notable, I don’t even notice it unless they come back and say “hey, thanks for saying this or that, it really helped me/encouraged me/made me see things in a different light. (Okay, this doesn’t happen everyday but it has happened before!)  So really the obsession over when to say or when not to say something is usually in vain and is caused by over thinking about how people might react. 

Allison says it this way: "Something profound is happening to me as I’m learning to own my own story without asking others to own it for me.  I’m discovering I’m stronger and more unique than I ever imagined. I’m discovering there is room for me. I’m beginning to see how my thoughts and ideas and opinions aren’t nearly as important to the world as my voice is- the words and images and stories that make up who I am.”

I love that. Because it takes the pressure off to say just the right thing at the right moment. When I am focused on my voice, instead of the right thing to say, my most authentic self gets to come through. Being present is more important is more important than trying to maintain my like-ability. I keep picturing a necklace (my beautiful friend, who happens to have a very flowing creative spirit, made these). What is special about it is not just one bead in particular, but they way they compliment each other when they are strung together.

Think of your favorite author or storyteller or even your favorite character from TV or a book. Do you like that person for just one of their view points or one famous quote that they articulated? I would say, its a safe bet, that you like them because of their bottom line. Because of who they are as a whole being. Because of how their past and present, imperfections and triumphs, strengths and weaknesses all run together.  

 
So just to clarify, this is not about bashing everyone around you with your point of view on things. I still think wise people choose their words and don’t always have the loudest of voices. I value silence and listening immensely. It is more about just giving yourself permission to be just that: yourself. To be all of you, flawed and filled with beauty all at once. You are not the same as everyone else, regardless of whether you think you are or not, and it would be quite a boring world if you were or if you always had the perfect thing to say.

I think that perhaps this kind of openness can be a struggle for creative energy or even just expressing ourselves in general. Vulnerability is hard work. We have to own the fear.  It takes practice to take down the mask.  It also helps if we have a safe environment at first.

I have a complicated past that sounds a little like it could be story line for Parenthood or one of those shows we all love about dysfunctional families. Sometimes I’m ok with my story and other times I subconsciously tuck it away. I guess it just depends on who is around and how safe I feel. But I feel most at home and most like myself with the people who know my past baggage, or better yet lived through it with me. They knew me then, they know me now and they accept all of me. 

I am slowly discovering that the key to creating a safe environment for myself and others is to be brave and take off my mask first. Or at least simultaneously. And really both parties benefit from this. I mean think about it, who are the people you feel the safest around? The most like yourself around? It's most likely the people who don't hide their own junk, who let you in on their downs just as much as their ups. When you aren't afraid to own up to who you are, you invite others to do the same. They may or may not accept the invite, but at least you offered. And if they do accept, you have just taken the first steps toward building an authentic relationship with someone. 

I’m thinking of a particular relationship in my own life, where it just seemed like there was some sort of block or negative energy between us. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason and it really kind of bugged me. Then one day, she hinted at something flawed in her past, or maybe just something she was insecure about. She was getting tired of holding up the mask. I found myself validating her and relating to her by sharing a similar experience. All of the sudden, there was a slight shift between us. It's not always this easy and I'm sure there will be other obstacles to overcome.  We may not be “bff material,” but that invisible wall came down. And that made me happy.

Maybe you are reading this and feeling like you don't have any or enough of those safe relationships in your life. Friendships where you feel accepted and known. Accept this as an invitation to be yourself, share your flaws and take off your mask. It takes time and effort but is well worth the process. You may be surprised how people react when you stop asking permission to be yourself. And if you're lucky enough to have plenty of these friendships, be that safe place for someone else. Because we could all use that freedom.

Thanks for reading today, have a great weekend!

Because You're Worth It

So there were a couple of days at work last week where I had nothing to do.

I'm still kind of learning my job and naturally the first few weeks at a school will be a little hectic. This means there is no one to supervise me and sometimes I just make up my own routines as I go along. So as I'm walking around trying to look productive I start to become irritated because I cant find anything to do. Or anything I know how to do.

Well. I can take advantage of this moment to sit and clear my head at my desk, I think. Yes, that's what I'll do. No sooner than I sit down, the Iphone comes out and the blogs come up and next thing I know I am writing a schedule for what I should do when I get home from school to make my time at home as productive as it can possibly be. For some reason, reading about other people being organized motivates me to attempt the same.

In the middle of my self prescribed schedule writing, a co-worker, a teacher's aide, comes bounding up talking about how it is her break time but she can't actually sit down on her break time because then she will be worthless and not want to get up for the rest of the day. Come to think of it, I don't think I have seen this woman in a seated position, other than if shes helping a student, for the past month of working with her. She gets out her cell phone and starts making calls and arranging some side work to do later in the week.

It's not easy to see it in myself, but I feel a quiet question arise when I see it in someone else...

Why is it so hard to take a break to be still?

Later that day, I am walking alone. Down by the river bank there's a warm breeze and a solitude about this place that draws you in. I'm not the only one. There are people, alone, parked on the side watching the water and eating their lunches. People resting on benches gazing across at the percolating city. The gentle waves stretching sideways over the river and ending at the rocky shore separates us from the noise and the traffic.They invite me to come and sit, just for a minute. But "I'm exercising, I don't want my heart rate to go down, I have things I need to do," I argue with myself.

I give in to the pull of the waves and sit on a bench.

Why do people come to this river bank for peace? To find a respite in the busy-ness that is the city? What is it about this place that people find relaxing? Is it the water? The view of the city without actually having to experience it's jarring noise and movement?

Why not rest? Just for a minute. This is where your inspiration dwells. I hear wind chimes in the background. I can be unedited here yet I never give myself a chance. I never stop spinning long enough, never stop wasting my rest and trading it out for lesser things.

I sigh and rise from the bench, I can't sit still any longer.

Then there is this package under my stairs when I get home. I carry it in but I hesitate to tear off its beautiful wrapper. I want to savor it, but for some reason I find myself reluctant to relish in the fact that someone would send me this. She does this every year, my best friend, she pays absurd amounts for luxurious lotions and soaps from this shop in New York City.  It's no surprise that she has sent it, but now it hits my heart differently. And as I sit waiting to pull off the pretty bows and take in the aroma of each item, I have this seemingly unrelated thought whisper across my soul: "You don't rest because you don't think you deserve it. Just like you think you don't deserve this gift." And I just sit for a moment more, and maybe a cry a tear or two.

And maybe I don't deserve it, I mean what did I do? I just turned a year older, I didn't really accomplish anything. Yet, that's the very essence of a gift. Something that is unearned and free. But maybe, just maybe, I have bought into the lie of the world that nothing in life is free and you get what you deserve and that I have to do something in order to deserve a gift so lavish.

Most American's work all year with one week vacation and a few days if your lucky for Christmas. I think it's fascinating that the U.S. is the only country that doesn't legally require you to take a vacation. (Do a little research on American's being overworked, there are no shortage of articles and statistics to prove, we are!) The message is: Work hard. And IF there is time time play or relax, then maybe. Is that why it feels like it is such a sin to do nothing or to not be "productive." Personally, our family tries really hard to be aware of the effects of "too much work not enough play," but you can be affected by this mindset whether or not you have a traditional 9-5 job. Even when I stayed home all day, I always struggled not to work or be productive every single second. Mostly because I felt like I had to. I needed to make the most of my time so I might be able to sit down and fall asleep watching tv at the end of the day. Why is it so ingrained into my psyche that it that even when I am intentional about not being too busy that I still find ways to busy myself?

You see we go through these things in our lives and we think we are over them. Things that maybe we let falsely define us, events that are the origins of lies that we live out. Some lies that sound like this: You aren't good enough. You don't have what it takes. You have to earn your worth. Maybe it's been 10 or 20 years and our lives may have changed outwardly so much and we think: there is no way this still effects me. I have moved on, I've worked though it completely, I am a changed individual. But then it surfaces and you can't sit on a park bench or a open a gift from a dear friend. And what do you do when that lie manifests and you are acting it out and you didn't even realize you were until here you are weeping over a box of lotions?


I can't help but think of the woman pouring out her best perfume on the feet Jesus. Everyone around said, "Wait a minute, let's not get too extravagant here. That could be used in a more economical way." But the teacher wasn't concerned with profit or loss, he knew he was worth it and that the real value was in the gesture and in the pouring out of this woman's heart. His identity didn't come from his paycheck or his skill set or his productivity. It came from his Father, from within. He had this way of flipping everyone's view of worth on it's head.

Maybe if we believed we were worth it or that we needed it, the way we view rest would be that it is more of an essential and less of a luxury. And what if we redefined what rest looks like? What if it's not tuning out life by drowning ourselves in entertainment but it's something more. (Confession: I am just as guilty of binge watching Netflix as the next person). What if rest looks more like some thing that fills our soul to the brim and makes us feel whole again? And could time be viewed, not as a dwindling resource to pack in every little task that can fit, but as a gift? Something that is full of joy and is actually meant to be enjoyed. Would that motivate us to jump off the hamster wheel? What if we believed we were worth that.

Truth be told, I initially hated titling this post "Because You're Worth It." A little cliche, maybe, I thought. But have you ever heard the history behind the famous slogan? Lo'real Paris coined it in the 70's when women's rights and feminism was on the rise and it is actually not as shallow as it first appears. So this is about more than hair color and lipstick and even independent women. When I hear, "I'm worth it" I always wince a little because this is a truth that women everywhere struggle with, myself included. But I'm not satisfied excluding this struggle to women alone. I am almost positive this has little to do with gender and more to do with the searching heart of a human being. Most of the time, I think we keep ourselves too busy and distracted to pay attention to matters of the heart. I know I do.

But I'm ok. I really am.

Because at the end of the day, I know who I am.  I know I am not defined by anything in my past, or what I do for a living, or what I look like, or what I feel like, or even by the statistics about overworked Americans. And I feel like maybe that is true rest. To know all this and to be at peace with it.

Thanks for listening today,

Jenna