beeehave

This past week was a whirlwind, so it is no surprise that I am not feeling my best today, and that's ok.  Jerry and I had one of the quickest trips I think we've ever attempted and I am pretty sure it's the last one like that we will think of doing.  Back in May 2015, we drove from Portland, Oregon to Starkville, Mississippi in four days~~which is not a huge heaping lot but given that I like to enjoy my trips, it was incredibly quick for me.  But this week, we had a deal that was too good to pass up so we pulled off a faster stunt than that and I'm oddly proud of it and also somewhat ashamed because I ended up paying with a compromised immune system that led to a sinus infection that is now moving into my chest and setting up fires as well as explosive flares.  But!  It's not the flu and I did nip it in the bud.  yea! me.

And yea! to my awesome husband, who totally rocks my world.

Last week, I found out that my cousin who owns Mountainside Pottery in Pennsylvania was selling her two kilns and accessories, for an amazingly cheap price.  Since the weather turned to freezing here in Mississippi last week as well, I was pretty sure it would be freezing in PA.  The kilns were under tarps but sitting outside so I wanted to get them out of the weather as quickly as I could.  So we began to make arrangements to get them.

Thing is, I also had some appointments that I was able to rearrange but there were a few that I could not, so we were going to have a tight turn around with no time to visit anyone.  So, we pulled off a 2500 mile trip in three days.  It was good, but exhausting.  And we did exactly what we wanted, we borrowed Jerry's eldest son's truck from the gulf coast, drove up to PA, loaded the kilns, drove back to the coast, returned the truck and left the kilns with Jerry II, picked up our car, and drove home.  In three days.

Why did I want the kilns in the first place?  Jerry's son Jerry does wonderful pottery, winning the coveted Chalet prize for his senior thesis a few years back.  Life often throws curve balls and sometimes we are so busy fielding them that we put other important stuff on the back burner because there is even more important stuff to attend to:  priorities, man, priorities.  Kilns generally don't perish, so when he gets around to being creative with clay again, he'll have some tools at his disposal.

There were a few funnies on the trip, including this one:

Most of the trip, Jerry drove.  But while in Columbia County, Pennsylvania I drove.  Jerry figured rightly that I would know where I was going and have a better chance of getting us there.  Besides, it left him free to gawk at all the sights to see.  So he's oooh'ing and ahhh'ing over the tail end of the fall foliage, enjoying the backass country roads, paved and unpaved, lined and unlined; when suddenly he exclaims, "wow!  Look at that, I have never seen that many beehives in one place!!  Ever."  So I glance over, see what he's pointing at, and then glance back at the road and slow down even more.  We are now crawling along; the occasional person passing us {driving} or whom we are passing {farmers in fields} probably think we are with PennDOT, eyeing the roads for the upcoming winter weather of snow, ice, sleet, etc.  I mean, we were in a bright yellow vehicle like the road crews in PA use.

Jerry realizes my face is a bit...off.  "Uhm, what?" I say, not sure I understood exactly what he meant.  "Over there, those white boxes, they're beehives....right?"  I'm wondering why he would think that, and also how to tell him that no, those are not beehives, when he starts laughing, "oh, shit, that's a graveyard, that's a church...those are grave markers."

Why, yes, those ARE headstones.

My mom would have loved it.

Voting Day, do it anyway.

This morning, my husband {Jerry} and I stopped at our polling place on our way to town.  There were two people in front of us; thankfully, there was no line.  It was painfully similar to that scene in Zootopia at the DMV with the sloths.

Sloth number one:  Hey, how are
{us:  fine}
Sloth #1: you?   How can I
{Jerry:  here's my license}
Sloth #1: help
{Jerry: under W.  Wolf}
Sloth#1:  you?   Ok, wait til I

turning pages one at a time.
576 pages later...

Sloth#1: find you
{Jerry: stay on that page, because there are two of us}
Sloth#1: and check your
{Jerry:  there are two of us, so just stay on that page}
Sloth#1:  identity.

Meanwhile, the other sloth sits motionless.
Waiting.
She has a stack of 'I voted!' stickers clutched in one hand.
In her other hand, is a stack of electronic cards for voting.
She is placidly staring ahead.
Waiting.

Later...still...

Jerry moved over to her, while I am signing the book.  I realize that the verbal K could refer to the letter or to my entire middle name.  Because I want my vote to count, I ask sloth#1 which it is.  He bah.lah.inkssss slowly and then turns his head to me.  I am bent over the registration book, pen posed, waiting.  He looks back to his book and again blin.ks.  Then he says, "oh"

Sloth number two has halted her progress in giving Jerry both an electronic voting card and a sticker, so that she might consider the question.  She says, "that is"

Sloth #1:  I see
Sloth #2:  a very good
Sloth #1:  how that
Sloth #2:  question.  A legitimate
Sloth #1:  could be a
Sloth #2:  concern.
Sloth #1:  concern.

Both sloth numbers one and two turn toward each other and share a slow grin, which light up their faces.  It would have been much funnier, and cuter, if I wasn't in such a rush.

Slow Voting Process==First World Problem

Unused Creativity

Brene Brown is a qualitative researcher who has spent about fifteen years doing interviews, collecting data.  She uses grounding methods for her research, which means that she does not do a lit review first, which can tell the researcher what already exists within the various fields and disciplines of research knowledge.  But it also can give you a bit of a bias before you start, which is why she doesn't do them first.  However, after the first few years of Brown's work, she viewed her data and noticed some common threads that were showing up over and over again; so that directed her to where she went next in her line of questions and so forth.  This means that the research goes deeper and builds off itself, often allowing for the researcher to develop comprehensive fleshing out of the details within any one specific area.

So a few years ago, Brown tied the first twelve years of research and three books together into a six session set of conversations in "The Power of Vulnerability:  Teachings on Authenticity, Connection, & Courage".  I'm calling them conversations, since her presentation style is more informal than a lecture and she interacts with her audience in a way that feels much more organic in the way it progresses than an academic lecture.  Her main audience during these sessions were social workers, teachers, counselors, and others within the mental health professions such as nurses, doctors, and support staff.  Brene is also in demand in the business world, working with C~teams {I had to look that up, as it was not readily apparent to me that she meant CEO, CFO, etc.  It makes sense, of course;  but when she first referred to it, I was like, "mmm, like A~Team, B~Team, or maybe even Sea Teams, what?"  Please keep in mind my husband was in the Coast Guard for over twenty years and is also a huge fan of sports.  So any of those options were possibilities.}

My own counselor, who's been working with me for thirteen years now {I knew her when she was childless and now, she's got four, the eldest is about to become a teenager...I have great admiration for this woman on oh so many levels}, refers to Brene Brown's works from time to time.  I've a great deal of trust in my counselor, we've built a solid rapport over the years.  So when I saw "The Power of Vulnerability" as an offering on HooplaDigital, I was all, "guess I'll give it go"  Dude, so glad I did.

Last post referred to:  unused creativity metastasizes into rage, grief, shame, and judgment.  For those of you who might be familiar with Brown's Ten Guideposts of the Wholehearted, you might recall that this is a major point  that falls under guidepost six {cultivating creativity and letting go of comparison}.  To be fair, if you are slightly confused, it does fall at the tail end of the fifth of six sessions that comprise "The Power of Vulnerability".  It's just that I got some damn excited about this whole area in particular because it's been very relevant for me for awhile now, the whole creativity realm.

In Brown's research, she found that the wholehearted, folks who were able to get the most satisfaction in their life, regardless of their life circumstances, socioeconomics, etc. practiced creativity often.  They are curious, developing their interests in creativity thru writing, painting, photography, stained glass, welding, pyrography, jewelry making, etc.  Brown looked at those people who didn't develop their creativity, allowing themselves to be expressive in various ways that were not harmful, and realized some some common themes emerging from her data.

We all have the capacity to be creative.  I looked a little at learning to creative as an adult.  But many of us were shamed as children for being creative and so we might have shut that part of ourselves down.  Which is why as adults, some of us have a difficult time leaning into creativity and relaxing as we try our hands are various activities, fearing comparison, shaming ourselves before others can or might, or approaching creativity as tho it were a competition that we can strive for perfection and conquer it.

So we all have this capacity for creativity, and as children, we are usually quite creative as we are learning all these areas, exploring new possibilities, and having great fun with it.  Until some authoritative figure scoffs, scolds, or shames us; at which point we tone things down, cut off our creative outlet, internalizing the message that we are not good enough in some way, even if it is just having fun and playing with it.  Apparently, we are not worthy, and so we deny that creativity's expression.

But it does not wither and die.  It's not like it simply dissipates.  That creative energy morphs into something else.  We might start to resent others who excel in their creative expressions, earning the art teacher's praise or our parents' admiration.  We might become angry at those teachers, or parents, or other kids.  That judgment often carries thru highschool {omg, band nerd}, into college {oh, he's an ART major, want fries with that?}, and into the work place {let's be practical}.  Shaming is rampant when any part of ourselves is denied, aimed at both ourselves and others.  We fear the shaming others might direct toward us, so we don't risk being creative and perhaps being judged or compared to others and found lacking.  Better we don't risk that at all, we think and so we stifle that creative part of ourselves.

When we deny ourselves, any part of ourselves, we are not being our true authentic selves and we live a stifled life of fear.  We shame ourselves, feeling that part of ourselves is not worthy of our own attention, let alone someone else's.  We do not accept our entire self.  We don't love ourselves.  And then we don't feel lovable.  In fact, we probably don't even feel worthy of acceptance and love, because we can't even do that for ourselves.  And we wither, becoming bitter, numb, afraid, fearful, mean, violent, and lashing out at others because we hurt.  It becomes this horrible cycle of shutting down this part, becoming fearful that we aren't good enough, becoming bitter and angry and then being rejected because we are so mean and then withdrawing more and more from the connection, love, and acceptance we so badly crave as humans.  The more we withdraw from  human connection, the more we become susceptible to depression, poor well being, illness, developing addictions, etc.

I'm NOT saying creativity is the magical cure that is the ONE thing that will right all the wrongs.  But I am saying that cultivating creativity is vital to being well, in general.  Give it a try, for maybe three months, and see how you feel and what sort of changes you notice.

Cultivating Creativity

In September, I attended Fiber Fun in the 'Sip, a fiber festival that featured a multitude of classes in Vicksburg, Mississippi.  The sessions ranged in time, prices, materials, skills, etc.  There was more than adequate time to really learn the new skill taught, to practice it for awhile to make sure that you had learned it, and to learn how to fix mistakes during that process.  I really enjoyed them, the length was perfect for us to learn, do, and socialize.

The ONE thing that I noticed was the stumbling block for folks, if indeed there was one, was the incredible pressure they put on themselves by comparing their work to the ideal.  First, let me also say that not everyone had that stumbling block, some folks had no obstacle to their enjoyment of being creative and learning.  The folks who were dissatisfied, frustrated, and unhappy were upset with themselves for not creating a perfect piece first time out of the gate.

Sometimes, I'd remind folks that they are learning a new skill; that they might remember when they first learned to crochet, knit, embroider, or even just write the alphabet, chances are it took time, effort, and some practice before they were able to turn out even stitches, stay within the lines, or be consistent.  When I did point this out, most people agreed and most relaxed a little, being kinder to themselves, and hopefully enjoying themselves more.

For most creative endeavors as adults, we do feel we need to learn the rules and get good at doing whatever, before we can break them and be creative with confidence and self assurance.  When you compare you newly acquired skill's end product to the teacher's, who has been doing whatever the craft, skill, art is, you are setting yourself up for an automatic fail.

But why compare at all?  It is your work, your creation, and if you are enjoying the process, then what does it matter how that compares to someone else's, let alone the teacher's?  We've become so accustomed to striving for perfection, an unobtainable goal, that we place incredible amount of pressure and criticism on ourselves.

In part we do this so that no one else can put us down more so than we are putting ourselves down.

Here's the thing tho:  when we put ourselves down, we cannot hope to develop our self worth, we cannot love ourselves, we cannot learn to accept ourselves, we are not living and loving with wholehearted nature.

If we do have a deep sense of self worth, believing ourselves to be worthy of love and acceptance, because we love and accept ourselves; then if someone puts us down, it might hurt, but we KNOW and BELIEVE that we are worth love and acceptance so we don't internalize that criticism.  It doesn't affect our sense of self worth.

In other words, if we have an intact good sense of self worth, we might think, "wow, that was really harsh of them to say that about my first attempt" or something similar.  If we do not have a good sense of self worth, we might think, "wow, they are right, I suck." and then that tiny spark of creativity dies, fizzling out before we can even breathe life into it.

As adults, we might have a tough time accessing our creativity, thinking "well, I am NOT a creative person".  We all have the capacity to be creative.  Ev.ree.sing.gal.one.of.us.

Here's something worth thinking about now, I'll discuss it next:

Unused creativity metastasizes into rage, grief, shame, & judgment.

Perfectionism, the Enemy of Good {writing}

At first, when I read "perfectionism is the enemy of good"; I thought, "well of course it is, it's the best, it's better than good."  Then I thought, "wait, no.  That wouldn't make it an enemy".  Then before my brain could go further down that path of rankings, I realized that that's not even remotely what the adage means and I needed to shift my perspective.

So here's what it actually means from this other perspective, where things became oh so much clearer.  It's also where Voltaire, Confucius, and Aristotle were coming from.  Plus lots of successful business, leadership, and wholehearted folks know this to be true too.  And I can see it; it's just not my first thought.  Which actually says a whole heaping lot about me.

While we strive for the unobtainable goal of perfectionism, wasting time and energy, we are not being productive because the book doesn't get written {let alone published} as we agonize over the perfect paragraph, sentence word.

The generalization is that we are disengaged from ourselves, from the vulnerability of putting ourselves out there where we might be criticized, where our work might be judged, where our collective asses might be kicked.  So we think, "I'm gonna be so perfect that no one can find fault with me" or "my work is going to be so good that it stands above reproach" or some other such fallacy because someone somewhere is gonna find fault and someone somewhere has produced work that is better than yours in some way.  So then that just reinforces most of our beliefs that we were right to slap on some armor, grab a shield, and further disengage from others and ourselves.

But you can't be satisfied, because there is no perfection from an external validation.  You cannot please everyone all the time.  You can strive to be the best you, the perfect you, the most authentic you, tho.

To do that, you need to show up as you and be seen as you.  Faults, flaws, and all.  That requires vulnerability, that requires a huge amount of bravery and courage, because you allowing others to see you, to perhaps judge you, to perhaps critic you, to perhaps find fault {and they will, if they look for it}.  Be brave, do it anyway.

Because chances are:

You are worth being seen, as you are, with your opinions, thoughts, feelings, and the awesome talents and gifts that you have.  You do produce good work, you do create appealing art, and you are a good person, good friend, and so forth.

Specifically, when it comes to writing, perfection can be a huge stumbling block.  It can cause self doubt, it can block creativity, it can leave your page as blank as when it was created.  So write anyway, create anyway, play anyway, practice anyway...you'll produce better and better work.  You'll be more productive, less frustrated, and more accepting.  You'll be good.

I'm HERE! Now. Guaranteed.

Hey there, I want to preface the coming post with a note to acknowledge that it has been a year since my last post and why that is.  The short answer is, "*shrug* I dunno."  The longer, more thoughtful answer is, "I was busy and things just snowballed and yada yada yada".  But the real answer lies somewhere in between, something like this, "I was busy, yes, with life events; but also with lots of internal examination and self~growth sorts of things that I wasn't always comfortable with posting because no one other than me, my husband, and my counselor needs to know that shit.  Especially in detail."  It's not always pretty getting to where you want to be.

I had no idea that it'd been a full year tho, but that goes to show that usually, when stuff isn't a habit, it fades from your daily purview or weekly activity list.  Like using that gym membership that is deducted from my checking account automatically.  Which reminds me, where is my swim suit and does it even fit?

Obviously not me.
But I thought I should say so anyway.

Writing is thinking for me.  This can be an extremely useful thing to know, for both the reader and me.  For me, so that I am aware of tangential tendencies that may start with, "and another thing" and can cut that from the finished product.  For the reader, so they might understand how my beautiful mind works, nestled in its cerebrospinal fluid bath of plasma, electrolytes, sodium, and chloride, protected by the lumpy bumpiness of my thick hard skull, covered with my silver sprayed not~blonde hair, which never features a rubberized cap of overlapping layered scales.  I'm so NOT mermaid material.

Two weekends ago, I went to a Writer's Retreat at the Homestead Education Center.  Lots of good stuffs resulted, of course, because when does anything at the Homestead not end with shiny happy people who are recharged and ready to face the oncoming tasks?  If you've never been to the Homestead, the answer to that is "never".  We always leave with a sense of renewed purpose and much inspiration.

That is not to say that we all leave with a much easier life.  In fact, most of us don't.  Most of us realize how complex our task is and are ready to give it more than the ol' college try.  Most of us are committed to either continuing with an ongoing project or to take on a new one.  Either way, we're ready to up the stakes and climb to the next level.  Whether that's improving our families' health with fermenting foods, starting our own sour dough and baking tasty breads, raising goats and chickens, or mapping our short/immediate, middle/one year, or long term goals and how we plan to get there, or writing our memoirs, short stories, novels, theses, and guides and then publishing them thru a variety of possible means, like blogs, magazines, newspapers, peer review journals, self~, indie~, larger publishing houses and so forth.

No, having visited the Homestead doesn't make life easier in this instant gratification craving culture; but spending the time at the Homestead does make life better, clearer, and more doable.  Even tho none of us are exactly the same, we meet others with similar goals, we build our communities, and we might even find our tribes where we can be accepted, satisfying our desire to belong as we are, as we will be, as we change and grow into who we truly are in our own skin.

Thank you oh so very much, Alison Buehler; you are one of my human heroes.