My Authentic Self: The Unleashing Continues....
The critic has kept me in check this week. My teacher was not joking when she said it is slippery and hard to recognize. There I was going along preparing to finish a piece I started last week in pottery -- one that came to me in a vision before I began to paint as my teacher burned and smudged sage to clear my spirit and prepare me to paint my inner goddess -- when all of a sudden I had this sense that I had to get my sermon done TODAY. It could not wait. My inner voice was saying, “you’ll have to skip pottery this week because there is no other time to write your sermon.” So off I went to Starbucks and began reading and preparing for my sermon.
Once more I was blessed by God’s voice calling out the Critic. I am learning this time around that God is not going to let me take the easy (or lazy) way out. This time I’m going to have to do the work!!!
I’m sitting there, sipping my Chai Tea Latte and reading various commentaries to prepare for this sermon when my teachers words pop into my head, not softly but loudly and firmly; like “WAKE UP! LOOK WHAT YOU ARE DOING!!!”
then it starts... hmm maybe it’s time for a cup of tea, a snack, wondering what is happening to the weather right now. Then you walk away ... and the critic wins.
What? How is this the Critic? and I stopped and sat in silence and thought about it. Oh yeah, pottery. The piece that I’m working on. It’s related to the work I began last week. Right, the critic....
I packed up my bag and got in my car and drove to the pottery studio to finish this piece that started before I painted my inner goddess, before I received a vision for how it would actually work, back when I had this sense that I had to create a visual of my authentic self -- the self I wanted to be and become and remain.
An aside: Months ago I went to my teacher because I had this dream that I was supposed to experiment with Japanese brush art. I had this dream of creating a pottery wall hanging that was based on Japanese Calligraphy characters for a series of words that would help me balance my soul between quiet tranquility and free spirited creativity and play.
My teacher, being the amazingly wise person she is, gave me all sorts of books on Japanese calligraphy, websites to look at, a few brushes, an ink well and an ink stick. She gave me a brief lesson and sent me off to journey where-ever it took me.
I delved deep into finding the characters that spoke tranquility, serenity, spirit, soul, freedom, play, balance. I learned to paint them. I followed my teachers guidance to paint over and over again until it just happened. I stared at the results and waited for them to come together. And they did. They formed a design that amazed me.
I copied it. I blew it up. I created a template bigger than the wall hanging I wanted to create. (Clay shrinks each time it fires.) And I went to the studio.
This calligraphy was to be created and imbued with prayers that I had collected and laid overtop of a labyrinth. This is a journey after all -- a journey to connect with my authentic self. It was beautiful when I was finished. It popped off the labyrinth. I could see the glazes and how they would compliment each other. I could see how the color for the calligraphy would burn like the flame of the Spirit. The problem is that it broke in the first firing. Then it broke again the second time I made it. It cracked slightly in the first firing and shattered into a tremendous number of pieces when glazed.
Frustrate, I gave up. I walked away. This was not meant to be. Until.... as the sage wafted through my nostrils and opened my spirit I saw it.
Back to now: Last week as part of kicking the Critic my teacher suggested painting it out. I went to pottery and decided I needed to create this vision given to me. I cut out the design. I wrote the words on the back. I etched into the clay prayers for my spirit and soul. I rolled it up, squashed it together and began to create a sculpture without loosing the entirety of the design. I followed my teacher’s guidance -- do what intuitively comes, don’t question.
So I squashed the base into roots of a tree. I allowed the loops and squiggles to form branches of the tree. I added more squiggles, more flames, more fire, more freedom, more pay. Freedom and play were bursting from out of the trunk, the core. I added my hands holding and forming the trunk, the tree. A spiral appeared on my hand, reminding me of the journey of creating.
Then I ran out of time. I had to leave to go to an appointment. I wrapped it up in plastic and put it on my shelf. I left. I didn’t like it. I thought it was ugly, horrible.
This week I went back. I peeled the plastic off the piece and sat down looking at it. Somehow over the week the moisture of the pottery evened out. Places that were dry and cracking had gained moisture. Places really wet had hardened enough that I could work with it. I spent the next few hours, smoothing and softening the lines and surfaces and etched out areas.
I began to see what was created. I began to fall in love with it; to understand what it was teaching me about my soul, my authentic self, and how it grows and expresses itself. My contemplative spirit grounds me, roots me in the Holy and holds me strong inside, unseen, protected, keeping my energy flowing, my life force growing. My playful free spirit bursts forth from this deep well of my soul, shining, flaming, moving into the world; creating with passion.
I am learning so much as I yield and give myself over to this creative process -- about my authentic self, about my calling, about how I want to live in the world. I have searched through many different contemplative experiences seeking to have this Parker Palmer quote come to a reality in my life and this intuitive creative process has unleashed it: “Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks--we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.”
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