Who I am in this blog is the unadulterated, unretouched, unresolved ME. Elsewhere on the Internet, the professional person I become when I go to work can be found (and seen).
Isn’t it interesting that I feel comfortable showing that particular persona to the world, but am not willing to unmask the fully dimensional human being of whom that persona is but a part?
I’m in a meander-y musing mood this evening. What I was originally thinking of writing about is how so many people I know in my approximate age group (early-ish to mid- to later 50s) seem to be grappling with the Meaning Question. It’s kind of that mortality/the clock is ticking/what have I actually done with my life so far thing, and if I got smacked by a semi-truck tomorrow, would I have been satisfied that I gave it a good go, did the things I cared most about, loved people the best way I knew how, and found some sense of purpose and fulfillment. It’s that thing.
If I had to answer that question tonight, I think I could say I’m honestly working on it, but I need a little more time, y’know? So, like, I might want to negotiate a little (okay, STALL, put it off, ask if I could get back to it in ten or twenty or thirty years). But at least I feel that I’m moving in the right direction. Which is why I keep doing certain things that seem to play a critical part in that process, such as:
1. process painting . . . it’s not about making “art,” it’s about standing in front of a big blank sheet of paper, armed with the necessary tools, and waiting for direction from whatever you wanta call it–the right brain, the unconscious, the soul . . .
2. writing . . . even if it’s just dashing off a blog post once or twice a week . . . maintaining that ephemeral connection with people who happen to read what I’ve written, like you . . .
3. listening to music that has woven itself inextricably into my life, and by extension, my heart, my soul . . . (all roads seem to keep returning there) . . . and for those of you who have read more than a handful of my posts know, there is one contemporary musician above all others who seems to make it all come together in a way that I am woefully incapable of explaining . . . and his name is Mark Knopfler . . .
4. focusing more time and energy on my friendships with women, and in particular, being part of a group of creative women who are sailing in the same familiar waters . . . and who share my desire to build rich, honest, and complex relationships that support ourselves and each other . . .
5. coming back to meditation, again and again and again . . . fully committing to this healing practice that brings me the great gifts of radical acceptance and equanimity . . .
These things help me stay balanced (along with getting enough sleep, which remains a challenge) . . .
Speaking of which . . .