Insights & Ice Cream

GRAPHIC BY UNCLE BEEFY

Last week I almost bought a ticket to go to India. I thought, "What the hell! I've always wanted to go, so why not?!" Essentially, I had a brief but emotionally-charged surge of inspiration probably similar to those had by people who think they can go live safely among grizzly bears or keep rattlesnakes as house pets. We can pretty much guess how those situations turn out. Fortunately, there are things to consider in an impromptu Indian escape like severe seasonal weather conditions, vaccinations, and bank balances. Whew! Thanks, Universe.

I think I just wanted to indulge in the idea of doing something that might make me feel a bit less "stuck" or at the very least distracted from those feelings that seem so prevalent lately. There's no question that feeling stuck can be defeating and debilitating. But mulling over this situation brought me back to a moment in art school when an exceptionally attractive professor shared a couple of thoughts with the class.

First, he asked us who in the class wanted to be a great artist. Did any of us raise our hands? Duh. Then he told us that none of us would ever be great artists. Jerk? Yeah, we thought so, too, until he continued. He then went on to share that all of us have a preconceived idea of what being "great" is and that by the time we would reach that far-off imagined point we would already have raised the bar on ourselves to yet another level of "greatness." So, in point of fact, we'd never really be great artists... in our own eyes. Maybe that's something of a blanket statement, but it makes sense and also points out how futile comparison is in the end. Sure, there can be glimmers of inspiration in creating that point on our horizon based upon another person's accomplishments, talents, etc. But most of us are probably well aware of the excessive pitfalls that lie in wait for the first moment that we don't manage to measure up to our assumptive ideals. Bartenders, bakers, and Ben & Jerry's have certainly benefited from those moments. Of that, I'm most certain.

Secondly, he shared this quote, "Work doesn't come from inspiration, inspiration comes from work." Wow. I don't remember if it was his quote or from someone else but that baby really strikes a chord. Well, remembering it did anyway. I don't know about you, but I'll admit that I tend to wait for "the moment" to strike. Sure they come around on occasion, but only occasionally. And not only does that waiting waste an inordinate amount of time, it puts the onus of responsibility on something or someone outside of ourselves. Talk about powerless and self-defeating! Ben & Jerry's are probably working on a flavor for that right now. "Excuses, Excuses Crunch?" "...with Pity Party Swirl?" In any case, it essentially boils down to just showing up, don'tcha think? And not to your grocer's freezer section. How's that for some cold, hard truth? (Brrr! I'd suggest a hot cuppa cocoa right now but I think that could distract us. I'd have cuddled up to some hot cocoa with that professor, I can tell you that much. See what I mean? Distracted.)

You still with me? Good. My final thought on all of this, and where I really struggle, is about control - which is where that quote up there comes into play. Flashback some 15 years ago and you would see a young man sitting in his apartment, lights dimmed, candles flickering, and a CD of Hildegard of Bingen chanting away as he attempted his first foray into meditation. (Yeah. In case you didn't know, I had/have a flair for a bit of the mystical and a lot of the dramatic. Go figure.) I thought I'd tap into the cosmic flow and take a moment to ask God, the Universe, or whomever was kindly listening, just what in the hell I was supposed to be doing with my life?!! The answer I got back? "Surrender." Yep. That's all! "I'm sorry God/Universal Intelligence, but do you see what all I've got going on here? The candles? The music? I kinda went to a lot of trouble to just get an off-the-cuff, "surrender," y'know?"

Two hours later and I sat dumbfounded and frustrated. But y'know what else? I kinda figure that little message must've come from a real place because if it had been my own internal voice it probably would have offered up, "How about a cocktail," or "Just practice your 'Voguing' and leave me alone." But 'surrender' sounded suppressing and depressing to me at the time and for years to come, frankly. I took it to mean "give up" or "let someone else take the wheel." I figured I'd already tried that before with unfulfilling or disastrous results so, thanks but no thanks - I'll take things from here. Or, so I thought. 15 years later... and I think I may be starting to finally get it. (How's that for a learning curve?)

 All the while I thought I was driving the bus, I was just determining my route based upon what 'the passengers' were telling me or where I thought they might like to see me go. I actually had surrendered but in an unconscious and altogether different way than what that little voice had tried to tell me. I basically just handed everything over to anyone, anyone, that thought they knew better than I did - good intentions or otherwise. The subtext of that little meditative quip, I now believe, was telling me, "just relax, let go of perfection, don't worry about controlling the final outcome, don't worry about the outcome at all, don't worry about the opinions of others - good or bad, stop looking for the answers "out there," listen to yourself, have fun, do what you love." If it's true what they say, "Man makes plans, and God laughs," then God has been yucking it up at my expense for a good long while. And, honestly, who could blame Him?

So that's where I am now, kids. My own little "Aha!" moment. I mean, I'm still processing this information but from a much lighter place. A new outlook, a fresh approach. So, we'll see where all of that takes me from here on out. The concept of surrendering still feels scary to me but, for the first time, also rather liberating. Like that quote up there would indicate, when your hands finally let go, they'll finally be open to receiving something new. Maybe what I've been waiting for all along? I think I'll let someone else worry about that now. (First time for everything.)