The trap of authenticity

I really don't want you to judge me unless it's going to be favorable. I can say I don't give a shit what you think but I do. So go easy. 

Many people say "be authentic." I need to be true to myself and live my real-life. Be who I am! Yes, this is true, but it's also a trap. 

If I've set your expectation of who I am, how do I change? I need for you to hold space for me to change. I need to hold space for you to change. 

At one point of my life, I was a wine freak. I drank and drank. I pre-gamed. For those who don't know, that means drinking a glass or two before going to whatever event, party, or reception was in store for the night. I post-gamed. You can figure out what that means. Alcohol was the way I dealt with and enjoyed social situations. If there was no wine at an event, I wasn't there for very long. I was mired in an alcoholic mind. 

One day, I got sober. I had reached some super dark places in my soul and couldn't go there anymore. I had surrendered and sought help. I was beginning to change. This was an authentic life experience. It was me being authentic. 

Luckily for me, I have some amazing friends and family that hold space for me to change. So my authenticity is supported. But what about people that don't have that?

My friend Mary was trying to get sober. She said to me, "They keep asking me to drink, telling me it's okay to have a couple of beers at a party. But I know if I have one sip I will be off to the races. Why don't they understand that? I can't believe they won't let me change. Ugh." 

I feel for Mary. She needs new friends if her old ones can't understand or even undermine her efforts. You know what? She found some. She stopped hanging out at those parties while she's new in sobriety. She started going to sober places and found new sober friends. She had to let go of the old faces and circumstances to grow into her authentic self. It took some time but she stuck with it. Change is hard. Growing takes work. 

The trap is to watch out for the trap. First we have to be able to see it. Then, just step over it. 

Letting You In

Yesterday, I had one of those stellar, productive days. I sat at my desk by 7:00 am and cranked on my latest round of self-inflicted book edits. I planned to go to a 10 am meeting, but chose instead to hunker down and complete what was in front of me. My manuscript was ready by noon to send to what I think will be my final edit. 

When I first started writing my book, I wasn't going to tell anyone. I said to my friend Brandi who is also writing a book, "Yeah, I think I'll just quietly self-publish this thing and not tell a soul. I'll just see if anyone notices." 

Brandi looked at me quizzically. Um, no. That's not how we do things. 

I know. I'm a marketer by trade. I have years of advertising, marketing, and public relations experience. I know how to get the word out. There are always new tactics brewing in the world, but for the most part, you find your target audience, and you get them the information. Marketing 101. I love marketing. It wasn't the marketing that was bothering me. 

It's vulnerability. My memoir, Finding Still Waters: The Art of Conscious Recovery, is my story in early recovery. I write about my childhood, my first marriage and divorce. I write about pain and learning and art making. I bare my soul. So part of me wants to hide out. Why the hell would I want to show anyone? Because I'm called to, from inside my soul. 

Vulnerability comes with creating artwork. Whether I create a mixed media work of art, publish a blog post or write a book, I am inviting others to have a conversation, either out loud or psychically. I am asking you to let me take you on a trip somewhere, and here you are, along for the ride. Thank you for joining me.

When we take this trip together, surfing on the wave of my creativity, you're going to judge the shit out of it. It's not your fault; that's what humans do. That's where vulnerability comes in. I have to be okay with putting this out there no matter what you think. 

Remember The Gong Show? If you watched TV in the late '70s — you saw the tuxedo-clad host, Chuck Berry, bring out quirky and ridiculous performers. When they were awful, and many times they were, the guest celebrity judges would bang the gong, and the artists were pulled off the stage, humiliated. They were all having a blast, even when rejected. I'll keep that in mind! 

At this point, I don't know where we are going. But there will be art, food, sobriety, some higher power stuff, and love. Maybe some sadness, anger and shadow work, too. Because this is life and it's messy. It's not all unicorns and rainbows. Thank God for that. Unicorns and rainbows are a bit irritating. 

Let's go for frogs and kombucha. 

An Emotional Rollercoaster

It's interesting how if we can stay in observation mode, will we dip into our periods of seeming darkness, and we will come out on the other side. When my father-in-law had to go to the hospital for a fall last week, it threw me for a loop. I thought he was stable at his new assisted-living facility; he only moved in two weeks prior. But then the fall happened, and I felt powerless. 

Tao and I were out at Still Waters, preparing for a long weekend of work. We planned on painting and cleaning construction areas of the main house to help move the restoration along. We were still at least a couple of months out from opening the center. Exhausted, we were binge-watching Netflix and snoozing as the rain poured outside Cottage Duality. My phone rang. I ignored it. It rang again, and I answered. 

The assisted living facility nurse said everything was alright, but Tao’s dad fell. The nurse said he was having some pain. She called as part of their protocol to notify the family, and she stated that everything was okay. She called me back three hours later. 

This time, he wasn’t fine. He couldn’t get out of bed. They were calling an ambulance. When a resident cannot ambulate to the bathroom, the jig is up. 

Immediately I was upset. Breathing into the moments of anguish, I set to calm myself down. We gathered our things, plans disrupted. We drove for an hour to the art studio and took showers. We settled the dogs and went to the hospital. 

Dad was in a private room. He was happy to see us and wondered why he couldn’t take a Tylenol and go home. The doctors and nurses spent the next two days doing tests. There were Fall Risk signs posted all around.  

They didn’t get Dad up on his feet much. In two days, he got so weak that he couldn’t transfer. One of my friends told me an older adult loses 5% of their muscle mass in one day from inactivity. That makes me want to work out right now. 

I was back on the elder care rollercoaster. Anyone who cares for an elder knows what I mean. Would he get admitted? Yes. Would he stay for a few days and qualify for coverage at an inpatient rehab? No. Luckily, he was able to return to his Assisted Living apartment but now needs oxygen and 24/7 care. His strength declined significantly. 

The night he got home from the hospital, he was moving from a wheelchair to his bed. He moved slowly and laboriously. He was frail and extremely weak. I had not seen his strength be that little since his open heart surgery last year. So he must begin to get strong again. 

Caring for my elderly father-in-law is emotionally exhausting. I know I must be his advocate because it is what is in front of me right now. If not me, then who? I have to ask the questions, keep the records, do the planning, set things in the right direction. It is the perfect balance between my desire for tidy control and my allowing of the universe. However, when things go awry and not according to plan, I get miffed and thrown off center. 

I just want to control the situation and get everything the way I want it to be. But unfortunately, a bit of surrender and acceptance is important in this scenario. Luckily I was able to get to a 12-step meeting, reach out to people that know me well and find support. I also allowed the experts to do what they do best. 

Things always turn out better when I surrender. In the meantime, while I'm going through trying times, I need to slow down, reflect, relax, pray, meditate, and hold my pain tenderly. I don't have to push it away. Just be with it and eventually, things start to change. As long as I don't stuff my feelings, it will work itself out.