live your purpose

cultivating my own voice

I was journaling today about how I feel as though I am going through a process of unwinding when I received an email from one of my brothers about vocation. Serendipity at its best. I was writing that I feel as though I am unwinding from what society expects of me and that I am moving toward what the life inside of me requires to thrive. I equate the process, in my mind, to that of a vine unraveling itself from its anchor point, withering, and then becoming what it was meant to become. In my case, a tree (metaphorical of course). The link that my brother emailed out was a Richard Rohr blog post about allowing Life to lead you to your vocation. Which may or may not be what earns you money. The post was totally on point for what I was writing about and feeling on this chilly, rainy day in Utah.

In writing about unwinding, I was also contemplating choice. On one level it often feels as though I don't have much choice, (in order to keep my home I have to pay my mortgage on time) and on another level I have too much choice, (which loaf of bread to buy, what to paint on the next blank canvas, what story to write next?), and the realization that the creative process is all about choice. I also realized that there is a whole litany of people, an entire movement, telling me that because I have this ability to choose that I am in charge of my own outcomes. But that is not exactly true, is it? Because if it were, I would be winning the lottery every week or getting rich off my art. Really, all that I am in charge of is how I choose to respond to the outcomes Life hands me. The choice is in the curl of the wave - resist and struggle OR, accept and surrender - and also when the wave lands on the beach. Once I'm on the beach, do I choose gratitude or grief or anger? And then the questions become: How do I live my life with greater intention and purpose? How do I surrender to what is and still move forward without apathy? And I think the key lies in finding joy in the service of whatever it is I choose. And I thought, what am I willing to give up to experience that joy? What am I willing to let go of to live the life of my dreams? Abraham was willing to give up his son Issac in service to God. Am I willing to give up my art, my writing to God? Am I willing to sacrifice my creative spirit to the service of the Divine? I don't know how that would actually serve Life, but yes. Although I struggle with the being willing part! Maybe what Life is asking me to surrender are outcomes. How do any of these questions help me cultivate my own voice?

During this unwinding it has become clear to me that I would like to simplify my life. Simplify my processes and expectations. And simplifying not only the expectations that society holds for me and I have for myself, but also the expectations that I have for Life. And by doing so create more clarity in my voice and vision for my life. While I was thinking about how and what exactly I could simplify, (I mean I already konmaried my house!), it occurred to me as an aha! that maybe my lack of vocal / creative clarity doesn't stem from having too much choice. A more accurate statement might be: I like what other people are doing so much that instead of appreciating and basking in the creativity of others and allowing it to inspire my own voice,  I try instead to mimic whatever they are doing. Admiring the loud and true voice of other creatives and also feeling a bit jealous, I often abandon my own true voice and copy them hoping their vision will ring true for me as well. But when it doesn't ring true for me, (as inevitably it won't!), when it falls flat, I feel defeated. I feel defeated in large part because deep down I know I could have used that time and energy listening to my own heart, cultivating my own voice.

There have been flashes - moments in my life where I allowed Life to flow through me in ways that were unique to me. And in those moments I thrived. But society always found a way to hook me back in. Whether through playing to my insecurities about "fitting in", the desire to be popular, or the simple need to have a roof over my head, I continually found myself copying the much stronger voices of others instead of strengthening my own. And it was during those times of not living my own life that I would drink in an effort to silence the despair of my heart. But now, choosing conscious sobriety, having vowed to sit through the discomfort that self awareness brings, there is a feeling of relief as my own truth emerges and a deep feeling of gratitude that comes from recognizing and cultivating my own voice. And by doing so I am able to surrender in bigger waves; to trust the process and allow Life to lead me to my true vocation.

photo by: moi hiking the peak of highland bowl / ski season 2011

photo by: moi hiking the peak of highland bowl / ski season 2011

follow your heart

When I was a child I knew without knowing how I wanted to live life. I knew that I wanted to feel the freedom of my own heart. That I wanted to explore and write and draw and color. And for a long time as a child I was able to do those things. It was a benefit of being the youngest child of a large family; in hiding amongst the masses, I could go undetected. But at some point, I am not sure how or when, it all happened so slowly, so subtly, I was domesticated out of my true purpose, (as most of us are), and was told in order to be loved I had to conform. In order to be loved, I had to live how society wanted me to live - demanded how I live. And for a long time I lived that way.

In my youth, I rebelled against these new rules for living and loving as much as I could. I slept a lot as I didn't see the point of getting out of bed if I couldn't live a life of my choosing. I smoked, I drank, I did drugs, I defiled my body. So, yeah, I was pretty miserable. But so was everyone around me so I didn't think much about it. It was "normal". But then in my early twenties I landed a job that helped change that. And for a while I was able to balance the demands of the world with the demands of my heart. And during that period I think I was happy if not totally fulfilled.

Then, once again, for the "sake of love", I abandoned my heart for the whims of society. And for many years I traveled back and forth between listening to the gentle whispers of my heart and hearing the loud clanging of the world. Until one day I could no longer hear my heart. And when that happened I experienced such tremendous feelings of loss. My heart literally broke. I was filled with grief and longing and my health began to decline. During this time, I foolishly thought that the grief, the pain, was caused by something outside of myself. That what I was feeling was related exclusively to the loss of relationships and job stress. But I realize now, I felt that way because I had stopped listening to the beat of my own heart.

It has taken time, 5 months of conscious sobriety, hundreds of hours of quiet meditation, and dozens of hikes to craggy, mountain peaks for me to be able to once again hear the near silent longings of my heart. And along the way, crossing valleys and forging rivers, one of the most salient lessons I have learned is true love will never ask me to betray my heart. And when society says, "no one will love you if you act like that", I now know that statement for the lie that it is. Because when I follow my heart, only true love flows to me. And when I listen to and then follow the promptings of my heart I always feel loved.

So, that's what I finally did. I took a gamble on my heart. I left my well paying but abusive job in retail (where it's all about the money, money, money...) without a real plan, without much of safety net, for the sole (soul) purpose of writing a book and reacquainting myself with my heart. And while somedays I feel a pinch of anxiety, most days I feel free and filled with gratitude. I finished writing the book! I have my health back! I have authentic and loving relationships. I wake up each morning early because I have a sense of purpose. I am in the flow. All because I decided to listen fully to my heart. And it's the best decision to date that I have made.

photo: moi 

photo: moi