Category Archives: Challenge

Who Am I Now? – Leaving identity behind in transition

I’ve got one more day with my clients. One more day in my identity as a social worker, as a counsellor, as a therapist. Letting go of this identity was not something I thought would be so hard. I know, what was I thinking? Oh, wait, I was thinking, not feeling. That’s my default m.o. when I’m under stress.

I thought that all my work with grieving, transitions, and loss would prepare me. After all, I’ve left lots of identities behind over the years. I’ve graduated from various schools,  moved house, and even country, a whole lot of times. I’ve married, became a mom, even got (temporarily) un-married. Not that those transitions into and out of an identity were pain- or challenge-free by any means.

But I’ve never left a job that I loved before. I’ve left jobs because the contract was over. I’ve left jobs because the pay wasn’t enough to support me. I’ve changed careers due to burn-out. I’ve even walked out of a particularly bad job in the middle of the day -not exactly polite, but I’m very proud of the boundaries I set for myself that day!

Honestly, most transitions are more of a “one at a time” kind of deal. This one isn’t everything, all at once, but it comes awfully close. Tomorrow I leave a job, and soon I will leave a home, a city, and even a country, that I truly love… how do I do that? It’s one thing to move from one identity to the next logical one: you get married, you know you’re becoming a spouse. You have a kid, you know you’re becoming a parent. But what am I becoming? I look down into the void and I see infinite stars… it’s a good thing my scared little self has my bigger self along for the ride!

I started to write this blog a few weeks ago. The word “day” was “month.” Then I started again last weekend. The word was “week.”And here I am yet again. Sitting down to write is not coming easy to me these days. Watching endless old familiar TV shows is very easy. Reading old familiar and comfortable books is comforting.  Art – which “ought” to be my mainstay – is almost as uncomfortable to get into as writing. But at least I’ve done it a bit more consistently than writing, and so I thought perhaps it’s best to break this long silence and share what I’ve got.

Zoom!What is it about this awkward space between one identity and another? At the beginning, it was an incredibly exciting feeling, like bursting into a clear sky, with nothing but forward and upward momentum. Hooray! Bruce got the job in Crete! Amazing! Look at the incredible landscape! The food! The ocean! Ah the inspiration will be there for the taking, and I will have all the time in the world to become the artist I always wanted to be…

But… what if I don’t? 

I watched a crow down by the beach a week ago. I think it was young. It zoomed up to a forked branch in a tree, and perched there, one foot on one side and one on the other, wobbling back and forward. I stared for a while. The crow might have been more self-conscious if it had known the attention it was getting! But since its back was toward me, its feet splayed out in opposite directions and its tail-feathers flipping up and down as it tried to keep balance between the two ends of the forked branch, I was privileged to feel its struggles as if they were my own. And I felt it. Right down to the bottom of my own toes. All my “what if’s” flood into my legs and make them weak and wobbly.

What if, despite the job offer, the Greek consulate says “no, we don’t want you here.”? What if we get there The Earth is Shakingbut I totally squander my time, and end up watching Netflix while hiding in my shuttered house from the extroverted neighbours?  My wiser self (and sometimes that’s an inner voice, and sometimes it’s a supportive friend) asks me some better questions. What if it’s fine? What if your neighbours are really sweet and even a little introverted themselves? What if Greece doesn’t happen, but by making the preparations you end up opening a magical door you didn’t even know existed? What if you wobble a bit on your branch, and then take off and fly into the beautiful sky and sing above olive trees and a turquoise ocean?

Wait and see...What if I sit with this feeling of in-between-ness, of not-knowing, and just BE with it for a while. Underneath the noisiness of my fear, I can feel a steady bass-beat of something else. Back when this started I even said out loud that what I was seeking, in taking this chance to completely change my life, was an experience of free-fall. To so completely let go of what I know, that I would have the chance to learn who I really am outside of all the other definitions and assumptions. I find myself scrolling back up to the first drawing, looking closer… I want to see those stars close up. And I do want it badly enough that I will try again to re-settle myself into waiting and being with what comes.

So … one more day of being with my clients, who have blessed me over and over again in their own willingness to BE. And now I’m feeling it. All of it. And I’m sad.

 

 

 

Fear and Desire: The Challenge of Something New

Everyone knows that doing something totally new is a real challenge, right?

But then why does it seem like we’re always being encouraged to “just get out there and do it!” without acknowledgment of the stress involved? How do you handle the challenge of trying something new?

Maybe you’re one of those that greet the challenge of novelty with open arms – “Sure! I’ll try it!” you say. Your desire to do it outweighs any anxiety you might have, so you jump right in without worrying too much about it. If that’s you, congratulations! I have no idea how you do it, but I’m very happy for you (and more than a little jealous.) You probably have no need whatsoever to finish reading this.

If you’re like me, this response may sound more familiar: “What exactly do I need to know to do this right? What will happen if I do it wrong? Can I do it privately first, with no witnesses to my failure?” I believe, of course, that my failure is absolutely guaranteed. And that there will be dire repercussions, or at least serious embarrassment. If allowed to run riot, my fearful brain will take me on a ten-month detour to getting around to starting any project.

Working in a field where I am constantly asking my clients to try something they may never have tried before, I think I’ve observed most of the ways folks can respond to the challenge of doing something new. And it seems only fair that I should challenge myself in the same way!

 My current challenge – the video camera

I have had a difficult relationship with the camera (still or otherwise) for my whole life. I think my smile is weird, and I don’t even want to know what mannerisms come to light in video, where every eye-roll, unconscious scratch, and “um” gets immortalized, all ready to be sampled for a dreadful GIF. This might not feel like a big deal to anyone else, but for me, it pushes almost all my buttons.

But the thing is, I’ve seen people just being themselves on camera a lot lately (thank you Facebook) from family members to other coaches and therapists.  They look like they’re enjoying themselves. I’ve gradually decided that it’s something I not only “ought” to do, but might even have fun doing. The combination of my fear and my desire to be on camera has led me to really think about what’s going on when I ask other folks to dive into their own creative process with me in the studio.

When we really want to do something we’re afraid to do, we are confronted with one of the most basic realities of our human life. There’s a gap between how we want life to be, and how it is. The swimming pool looks so wonderful, but what if we don’t know how to swim? We’re curious, but we’re frightened. I think these two emotions are a major reality for anyone thinking of doing deep personal work. Choosing to do deep personal work with someone can bring both fear and desire right to the surface.

For you to decide to make art, especially if you don’t see yourself as an artist, might be a little bit like me pushing “record.” And to make art for the first time as a part of your deep inner work definitely counts as the highest degree of doing something new.

So why should we do it?

Quite apart from any benefits that a particular new experience might provide for us, there are some other things going on that I think make it even more wonderful. For one thing, we open to the possibility of seeing ourselves differently than before. Our ego-mind, with its eye on minimizing risk and maximizing comfort, often underestimates our capacity to meet a challenge. When we take one on, we get to experience ourselves as courageous, and that’s an incredibly empowering state, that can help us in every other thing we do.

Secondly, and probably most importantly, doing only what we already know how to do will take us exactly where we already are, and get us exactly what we already have. When we try new things and sit in the fear or discomfort of not knowing what it will be like, we have the chance to change. Indeed it’s the only way we can actually grow as people.

Having now made the jump a couple of times, and pushed “record” on a couple of short videos on my Facebook page and  I am beginning to see some results for myself. For the first one, I scripted myself and spent a good hour setting myself up to do just a couple minutes of filming. And I recorded it (much) more than once before finally I let it go and pushed “publish!” What fascinates and pleases me is that what I’m most proud of is that action of pushing that button (long delayed, overthought, and convoluted as it was.)  The videos themselves are secondary, and can pass away without regret even if they were good and without shame even if they were terrible.

And that is what I hope for everyone who chooses to step courageously into the action of their own creative lives. On the level of soul or personal growth, however you choose to see it, what you paint or sculpt doesn’t matter – but that you dared to confront your fear and embrace your desire to try something new – to paint or weave or write – matters immensely.