A Perfect Circle of Support
The lovely thirdworld gave me a very helpful crit on a revised story last night. Was hoping to do some work on it this morning, but I must soon rush off to a morning meeting and begin what will likely be a very busy day. But no worries... This afternoon is the writing social and I should be able to get it all done while there. I am eager to finally send it out. I've been working on it for awhile.
The reactions I find in myself while going through this process of rediscovering my writing are very interesting, and I tie a lot of my lessons into my woo-woo observations. I think there are different "rungs" of understanding and personal evolution that we all climb. When you are on the same rung as others, you find commonalities that allow for mutual validation, support, and further growth. You can share the joys and sorrows of your experience together and even add more joy to that growth process.
Most of the people in my little universe vibrate very closely with me. This is a unique experience in my life... Often I have found myself vibrating a lot higher than most people around me, and usually felt isolated, whether it was a little or a lot depended on the circle of people I was in. I felt like I was working double-time to come to the aid of others, and generally not appreciated for that effort. I did have a few, rare friends that stayed close to me, and they are still dear to me to this day. Most of those friends are my college friends. I didn't carry many over from high school and below. My last job also brought a myriad of amazing people into my life.
Anyhow, the rung that I am on right now is about the necessity of engaging in collaboration and sharing in order to move forward. Something my husband is very familiar with, and he is my teacher in this area. I cannot go it alone any longer. I cannot allow my vulnerabilities and fears about opening up to keep me cut off from the wealth of support around me. It is time to make it a two way street. But it goes deeper than that... I cannot be fully myself without allowing something of others to enter into my sphere. Others around me are part of me, and by closing off those channels, I close the door to aspects of myself.
Because I have spent a lot of time in seclusion the last few years, I am more comfortable with this than I would have been in years past. I have had time to meditate upon what is uniquely me, to extract myself from the myriad voices that confused me and led to the loss of my core understanding of myself. Now that I have strengthened that core, it is time to absorb the aspects of me that are nestled in the unique and beautiful qualities of friends and loved ones.
I must overcome my fear of critique and allow others to contribute to my voice. When I do this, my work is so much stronger.
Before I gave Grant my story to review, I had spent a lot of time fine-tuning it. And I knew there would be some things for him to critique, but I assumed there wouldn't be much. And in truth, there wasn't much. But despite the fact that I thought I was fully prepared, even excited, about what changes I might get back in a critique, the same old pangs haunted me when he was done and said he had a few changes and suggestions.
What the hell is that all about? There is nothing insulting, ominous, or upsetting about what he said. I don't really know where this little voice inside of me comes from. It says, "What, you mean I'm not perfect? How is this true?" Come on, really. Really.
At least I know how ridiculous I am.
I will say, the little voice isn't as loud as it used to be. Once I confronted the fact that I wasn't perfect (yet again, and as I am doomed to face for eternity until I get over myself), then I could really resonate with how great his suggestions were. And the part of me with sense doesn't really understand why the part of me that reacts solely on the basis of victim-centric emotions doesn't like getting feedback and free help to make things better. Everyone who is any success gets a lot of feedback to improve their work. I am absolutely sure that one major difference between professionals and amateurs is that professionals know when to accept advice and implement it, for their own good and the good of the project. My design work has been a powerful lesson in that arena. Generally when I am most convinced a client has the wrong of it and I the right -- and I still implement their request because it is their project and I respect that balance -- I usually realize that, given the proper approach and attention, their idea actually does work better. Yes, it is a matter of understanding the core necessities of a project and being able to make judgments from a sound inner core of experience or at least knowing the true voice of something. In writing, it is holding things up to the spirit of the story, and to my own inner voice. Because I know myself better, I tend to know the story better, and I know when something doesn't resonate. I know what not to listen to. Now it's time to give myself lots of opportunity to get other opinions in the mix. Not so much that it actually becomes useless and difficult to navigate. But simply holding back for reasons of self-preservation just won't work anymore.
I want to get better. I want to be published. I want to let go of my old demons and walk confidently forward, so that I may engage some new challenges. The old battles need to come to an end. They have been with me far too long, and I cannot grow, as a writer or a person, until I am ready to open my hand to receive what I am so lovingly offered in terms of support.
I'm not perfect, and maybe someday soon I will start to be alright with that.
The reactions I find in myself while going through this process of rediscovering my writing are very interesting, and I tie a lot of my lessons into my woo-woo observations. I think there are different "rungs" of understanding and personal evolution that we all climb. When you are on the same rung as others, you find commonalities that allow for mutual validation, support, and further growth. You can share the joys and sorrows of your experience together and even add more joy to that growth process.
Most of the people in my little universe vibrate very closely with me. This is a unique experience in my life... Often I have found myself vibrating a lot higher than most people around me, and usually felt isolated, whether it was a little or a lot depended on the circle of people I was in. I felt like I was working double-time to come to the aid of others, and generally not appreciated for that effort. I did have a few, rare friends that stayed close to me, and they are still dear to me to this day. Most of those friends are my college friends. I didn't carry many over from high school and below. My last job also brought a myriad of amazing people into my life.
Anyhow, the rung that I am on right now is about the necessity of engaging in collaboration and sharing in order to move forward. Something my husband is very familiar with, and he is my teacher in this area. I cannot go it alone any longer. I cannot allow my vulnerabilities and fears about opening up to keep me cut off from the wealth of support around me. It is time to make it a two way street. But it goes deeper than that... I cannot be fully myself without allowing something of others to enter into my sphere. Others around me are part of me, and by closing off those channels, I close the door to aspects of myself.
Because I have spent a lot of time in seclusion the last few years, I am more comfortable with this than I would have been in years past. I have had time to meditate upon what is uniquely me, to extract myself from the myriad voices that confused me and led to the loss of my core understanding of myself. Now that I have strengthened that core, it is time to absorb the aspects of me that are nestled in the unique and beautiful qualities of friends and loved ones.
I must overcome my fear of critique and allow others to contribute to my voice. When I do this, my work is so much stronger.
Before I gave Grant my story to review, I had spent a lot of time fine-tuning it. And I knew there would be some things for him to critique, but I assumed there wouldn't be much. And in truth, there wasn't much. But despite the fact that I thought I was fully prepared, even excited, about what changes I might get back in a critique, the same old pangs haunted me when he was done and said he had a few changes and suggestions.
What the hell is that all about? There is nothing insulting, ominous, or upsetting about what he said. I don't really know where this little voice inside of me comes from. It says, "What, you mean I'm not perfect? How is this true?" Come on, really. Really.
At least I know how ridiculous I am.
I will say, the little voice isn't as loud as it used to be. Once I confronted the fact that I wasn't perfect (yet again, and as I am doomed to face for eternity until I get over myself), then I could really resonate with how great his suggestions were. And the part of me with sense doesn't really understand why the part of me that reacts solely on the basis of victim-centric emotions doesn't like getting feedback and free help to make things better. Everyone who is any success gets a lot of feedback to improve their work. I am absolutely sure that one major difference between professionals and amateurs is that professionals know when to accept advice and implement it, for their own good and the good of the project. My design work has been a powerful lesson in that arena. Generally when I am most convinced a client has the wrong of it and I the right -- and I still implement their request because it is their project and I respect that balance -- I usually realize that, given the proper approach and attention, their idea actually does work better. Yes, it is a matter of understanding the core necessities of a project and being able to make judgments from a sound inner core of experience or at least knowing the true voice of something. In writing, it is holding things up to the spirit of the story, and to my own inner voice. Because I know myself better, I tend to know the story better, and I know when something doesn't resonate. I know what not to listen to. Now it's time to give myself lots of opportunity to get other opinions in the mix. Not so much that it actually becomes useless and difficult to navigate. But simply holding back for reasons of self-preservation just won't work anymore.
I want to get better. I want to be published. I want to let go of my old demons and walk confidently forward, so that I may engage some new challenges. The old battles need to come to an end. They have been with me far too long, and I cannot grow, as a writer or a person, until I am ready to open my hand to receive what I am so lovingly offered in terms of support.
I'm not perfect, and maybe someday soon I will start to be alright with that.