journey to self: day #20

 

"I am who I am, doing what I came to do..."

                                                                         -Audre Lorde

 Just this past week I have spoken to two longtime friends about the exact same thing; our path in life, our calling...our journey.  We spoke from the heart about so many of our fears, longings and possibilities and I wanted to share some of what we said because I think so many of us feel this way. Societal/cultural pressures  force us into corners we sometimes don't want to be in. There are expectations that we have to have "everything figured out" by a certain age (who we'll marry, career, motherhood etc) and then ...complacency oftentimes sets in. Big time! 

Most of my twenties were spent soul searching and gypsing around (something I have absolutely no regrets about). There were so many pressures but I completely ignored them and just went my own way. But now that I am 44, married, a mom ...there's still soul searching, questioning, expanding of my heart and mind...there is still the seeking. What kind of a wife/partner do I want to be, how can I be a better parent/mom to Tara, where do I want my art to go...whom do I want in my life? How can I make more time for self care? It's different than in my twenties ...but it's still a huge part of my life. And quite frankly...I hope it never goes away! Our journeys are not linear...there are detours, lost pathways, dead ends...the back and forth...soaring...expanding. There is transformation and growth and dying off to certain parts of who we were. And I deeply deeply believe that we each have our own unique path...we each have a calling. All we have to do is be still, listen to the whispers in our heart...pay attention...act on it one small step at a time. We never know where each tiny step will lead...we never know what lays waiting for us on the path ahead. The people we'll meet, the experiences we'll have...the joys and tears...the fears and frustrations...they are all an intrinsic part of our journey. 

                                                      (Journey to Self, print available here)

They all shape us, strengthen us, humble us...open us up to the person we are becoming. It's all part of the journey...leading us to ourSELVES.

self care + what it means to me

I read this post yesterday and I started thinking about all sorts of things...how I practice self care today, how in my earlier lives I had no clue about caring for mySELF; what that even meant or how it applied to me. First of all, let me just say that as difficult as it is for so many women in western cultures to practice self care...in my culture it is not only a completely foreign concept but women who do so are reviled. Worst...they can be killed.
*BTW, I just heart Susannah...how she just puts it out there in the most casual + adorable way.
 In my very early twenties I was too busy surviving emotionally + mentally. Physically too. I had moved out on my own, was in University full time and working 40+ hours a week. I was also trying to cope with the aftermath of my horrendous family life/childhood, put myself through school plus... figure out life. SELF care never even occurred to me. During the summers I worked outrageous hours and spent lavishly on mySELF...buying Italian shoes, expensive clothing, art and wooden sculptures that I really couldn't afford. But it was my way of covering up all of my pain instead of processing it. I wore this heavy mask because I was terrified to show my real self to anyone...especially to mySELF. I had no idea who I was or wanted to be. I only saw mySELF through distorted mirrors; fragments and shards. Other people's perceptions, pains and discontent.
Then...in my mid twenties I went the other way completely...or so it seemed. I simplified...every 6 months I gave away half of all my stuff. I lived in an ashram for many many months. I tried to live  a somewhat austere life...still... with art + books + music but I got rid of everything else. My adage was..if I can't carry it ...it's gotta' go! Which was good because one year...I moved 10 times! Eeeek!  I would meet some guy somewhere, fell madly "in love" and then ...I would just disappear. I hurt a lot of people...myself included. I would feel in my heart that I had to go somewhere and then just pick up and go. Always running away...from mySELF. It was such a painful time but...also full of growth and new experiences.

                                                   
Then...when I turned 30 and spent 4 months on  a solo pilgrimage through India...I started on my creative path. Painting, photography, writing...all gave me an avenue to share my stories and work my way to the heart of who I was.  Once I put paint to paper, I felt that I started nourishing mySELF and paying attention to what I wanted; my true self.
Still...it would be many more years before I actually began to take care of mySELF in any real way. Somewhere in my mid thirties, a number of long term relationships came to an end all at once and the circumstances where so similar that I had to sit up and take notice. I had to learn how to set boundaries ( a foreign concept up until that time!!). So...slowly I was learning how to practice kindness and self care. Fast forward to when I became a mom and everything kicked into high gear exponentially. Here was my precious daughter who needed every ounce of me to be as healthy and together as possible...no more time for bullshit! Everything just fell away...pretense, masks, walls. Everything! I simply wasn't going to tolerate meanness and ugliness in my life anymore. While I know that everyone is doing the best they can at any given moment...I wasn't going to invite/allow unkindness into my life . My priorities changed, I kicked guilt to the curb, severed unhealthy ties and I actually started taking care of me. Friends, this was a radical concept to me!!!

I started my blog when Tara was about a year old and it gave me a voice...it strengthened me. Of course I didn't know it at the time but it was a life line leading me to center. Today...I want to be seen. For who I really am. I am shedding baggage (it's a process!!) and living inside the heart of my truth. Sure...I pamper myself too...a really extravagant hand lotion, a Godiva truffle when I want one, taking  a tech break, spending an ungodly amount of money on books (which I don't regret for even one second). But that's all icing on the cake...for me, it's not the cake! SELF care now means being healthy(exercising + eating right), being true to what I want, defining success for mySELF , being comfortable with all aspects of mySELF (ugly parts and all). It means setting boundaries, showing respect and kindness. It means believing in me. Not going along with what I don't believe or hiding who I really am. It means...being real. For so much of my life I went just went along feigning ignorance, always making excuses for others. But it only led me into a dark corner feeling very isolated.  So now...self care is a practice that I have to constantly work at;  I ask for what I need, speak my truth and sure...I buy a pair of boots now and then:)

what is calling you, the journey to SELF + turning off all that noise!

 "What in your life is calling you?
When all the noise is silenced,
the meetings adjourned,
the lists laid aside,
and the wild iris blooms by itself
in the dark forest,
what still pulls on your soul?

                  (awakening to the fullness of herSELF, archival prints available here!)

In the silence between your heartbeats
hides a summons.
Do you hear it?
Name it, if you must,
or leave it forever nameless,
but why pretend it is not there?"

 " ~ Terma Collective, The Box ~

 There is so much noise in our lives...all the noise of what we should be/want/do. Of how and who  we should live/love/be. There is the noise of our past, of our family of origin, our culture and society. There is the noise of past relationships/lovers/friends. There is the noise of guilt and frustrations...and...of the people we once were. There is the very loud noise of expectations. And the even louder noises of self doubt (who does she think she is? you're thinking about doing what? etc) But when we turn all of that off...what is left is...ourSELVES, our heart, our passions...our very souls. 

 Right now,  my journey to self looks like this

*heart/love/family

*soul

*courage

*vulnerability

*truth

*facing my fears

*being present

*community

*creating

*trusting mySELF

* sharing of my stories

*self love/self acceptance

 I think that one of the true unexpected joys of this journey of getting older is that I am learning how to turn off all that noise and listen to my inner voice. She's getting stronger and she's starting to shout above the noise!! How about you? What is calling you? Write it down ...say it out loud...and then see how you can start making it happen!

the story of my art

                                                      (typewriter at an antique store)

Some stories are too difficult to carry around. Some taste like ash in your mouth, others feel like they might rend you in two. That’s why we have a Story Catcher in our village.The Story Catcher takes your stories as you tell them truly—things that make your bones tremble and your muscles shiver, things you might only be able to whisper in the dark. She receives them as happily as a person making a ripe purchase at market.

She gathers all of them from the old ones to those wee ones just learning to give thoughts shape with their lips, and she holds them in her memory, tends them with her heart.
Then, when we’re ready, the Story Catcher gives us back our tales, on a day when we need to be reminded that we once were brave or that we once were rescued. That we might be so again.
                                                                                --from The Story Catcher, by Jen Lee

(footsteps on the journey)

Recently I was asked by a fellow classmate (BYW) what the story of my art is. This question has been on my mind ever since. The story of my art is really the story of mySELF. And perhaps you can see parts of yourSELVES too...because in a way, all of our stories are related, interconnected ..ONE. The details may differ but the inner journey is the same...the journey to SELF, to wholeness, to integrating all of our fragments and broken pieces. And we all get broken on this journey through life...in myriad of ways. Aren't we all completely demolished  many times on this journey...by loss, betrayal, deep and abiding sorrow? People who try to make us feel ashamed of our vulnerabilities are only doing so because they haven't claimed theirs. Perhaps what they don't know is this...in the claiming of our broken-ness lie the seeds of our whole-ness. The question then is this...do we stay broken or do we put our pieces back together? Do we stay bitter, crippled and shattered...or do we collect our parts like the precious jewels they are and wear them ...so so proudly...with the dignity and grace they deserve?

                               (photographing  prints  for  my Etsy shop this weekend)

The story of my art is the collecting of these precious pieces...whole pieces + broken pieces...stringing them together like pieces of gold and silver, lapis and rubies...giving them voice...air and breath and light. Claiming them and in the process...claiming our whole and precious SELVES.

Memories of India

These past few days, in between working on my website, painting and taking care of Tara (!!!)...I have been sorting through things. I came across my India pics...When I turned 30, I spent 4 months in India, travelling by myself. I was born in South Africa but am of Indian descent. This was my first visit to the land of my ancestors...of mySELF. It was a pilgrimage that continues to gift me, even today. How can I even begin to describe what it all meant to me. How this experience changed me, blessed me, strengthened me and nourished me. This experience brought me face to face with mySELF. India was a mirror held up to me, reflecting everything I am. The first month was horrible! A mixed-up jumble of thoughts, sounds and smells, pollution and noise, blazing heat and confusion, malaria pills and adjustments. I felt a rage of emotions-guilt, frustration, confusion, anger, distaste, contempt, misery, euphoria. I realized that the ugly monster of mental colonization lived inside of me. I had to learn how to love India, learn to let go and trust the Universe. Then one day , suddenly, I fell in love with India! And once I did, I saw the whole of life unfold...I saw how life is mixed with death. I saw that change is the only constant; everything is in flux, non-permanent, in transition. Marigolds mixed with dung. In India, everything is surreal. Life is lived in the streets, out in the open, in technicolor. Humility and arrogance, temples and blaring music, ancient stone statues and Sanskrit chantings, stultifying poverty and the blazing sun. When I stood at the tip of India with Lanka behind me...I saw the whole of Mother India before me. This is where India begins...this is where I begin. I fell in love with India that day and in the process...with myself too...Here is the picture-I remember it as if it were yesterday.

(me at the tip of Mother India-Kanyakumari, Tamil Nadu-1999)