Ruining

A thought I haven't flushed out into a full post yet  . . . ..

So I have taken gone back to painting again recently and what I realized I like so much about my creative process with painting is that there is this arc of development of the painting itself, and at least with me, I feel like I have to "ruin" it in order to make it good.  I start out with an idea or a feeling of what I want the painting to convey, but inevitably in my efforts to achieve the intended result, something goes awry that just downright looks horrible.  I'm not being harsh, or negatively judging myself, but something always goes to the ugly by accident.  Then again, there is something about the process of things going bad, that actually make things beautiful.  I like that message in life -- that if you haven't had to pull yourself back from the ugly, you can't shine.  I think there is something magical about being able to teeter with the edge of ugly, broken, wrong, disastrous and then coming through to the other side.  It makes the result at the end so much more profound; so much richer.  Plus, I like the secret of knowing that history of the thing; the private awareness that it was ruined and almost was abandoned completely.  It's empowering to know you can revive something, but also in knowing that you have made meaningless the idea of ugly.  That you have taken away any power from your perceived failures, as you know in your heart, they are just a step to the beautiful end.

Anyway - that's just what I have been thinking about  . . .

Namaste,
~Clare 

A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to Saint Martin

I haven't blogged in over a year.  After I finished my 40 Days, left Virginia and left my yoga studio I lost my way a bit.  Blogging had made sense when there was a routine and purpose to it.  Rambling on without a schedule or end-game seemed more wasteful; less cathartic.  I moved to Minnesota, started a new job, tried to find a new life amidst the initial winter of 98 inches of snow, and I just lost touch a bit with my self.  I certainly lost touch with the version of my self that had escaped into the stratosphere of the internet.  And then - BAM - out of nowhere, I was Googled.  Unsuspectingly I was discovered. 

As the story goes, a coworker "outed" me and this blog.  This coworker had Googled me prior to my arrival to the Hotel in St. Martin and had found my blog posted out there in there in the ether that is the internet.  One night at dinner, he outed me in front of my boss' boss and an esteemed colleague. I found myself both horrified and proud.  Horrified that the reality of my blog had been discovered and that perhaps my silly musings were being read by others.  And proud that this coworker was so impressed by my writing enough to bring up the results of his Googling  in front of a group of people. 

It felt good.  I beamed for weeks at the thought that someone out there in the Universe had read my posts and appreciated them (at least someone who wasn't related to me).  And then I got to thinking -- why haven't I been blogging? Time -- there is never enough time, and it is an easy demon to blame.  I was working two jobs, and then trying to manage life as a new homeowner and wife, I had a dog . . . but it wasn't Time's fault - not really.  I could try to claim a lack of energy.  That life was simply too full and too draining to make room for anything other than what was on my plate.  But I would have to concede that the hours I have spent watching trashy TV and  stupid internet videos could have been spent otherwise.  No, I think the reason that I haven't been blogging is fear.  Fear that I no longer have a voice; fear that I no longer have an audience; fear that I have nothing interesting to say.  Fear that if I made time to blog no one would read it; fear that if they read my posts they wouldn't like them.  Somewhere along the way I let the fear of not being good enough prevent me from being good.

And then a funny thing happened while I was in St. Martin.  Someone who had no reason to Google me, no reason to read my blog and certainly no reason to remember it or bring it up in mixed company, brought it up and complimented me.  He effusively complimented me on my writing and my stories.  He praised me such that I was embarrassed and flustered, and even tongue tied in front of my coworkers.  He urged me to continue blogging and swore that one day I would write a memoir - he just knew it.  I was dumfounded; and it was inspiring. 

Is that weird to be inspired by someone who is talking about you and your work? Well I was.  I was emboldened and inspired by this coworker's excitement about me and what I have to say to the world.  I was deeply moved to have my writing, my story-telling, my honesty praised and admired.  He was excited about my unabashed willingness to bare so much of my soul online, and his genuine support and admiration gave me so much courage.

So I am going to try to be less timid, I am going to try to be less fearful, and I am going to try to speak out and say whatever I have to say -fearlessly and honestly.  And if someone is out there and Googles me - great!  And if not, this blog can continue to be my quiet musings to myself and the ether that is out there.

Namaste,
~Clare