Someone asked me what I do. Usually I answer, " I'm an Artist." But this last time I couldn't say that. It isn't that I'm no longer an artist. I am. No doubt about that. But lately I've been thinking about 'full disclosure' and what that means.
We live in this complicated world that has changed significantly from the world that I grew up in. That's a good thing. Who wants to stand still? We would be one huge vat of vanilla sludge if that's the way it had been since I was a girl. But that doesn't mean that everything that's happened has been good either. Some parts of our world have gone to the dark side. American politics are corrupted. The religions of the world are using the name of their version of God as a means to violence. Children, animals, innocents are being tortured and killed.
And there are good things too. People are coming together through the social networks on line to meet, to become friends, to put voices together to make changes. There's real power in that, so much so that now governments are trying to control the internet. The hackers keep slipping past and the whistle blowers keep whistling. AND THAT'S A VERY GOOD THING!
But what does that have to do with me? (Whew...this color hurts my teeeth!) Why couldn't I say, " I'm an Artist." the way I usually do?
The idea of being my whole self popped in to my head, probably because I'm working out some fear and blockage issues that came up from being injured last year. And then I started thinking about the politically charged fact that we're now living in the 1984 that George Orwell wrote about. Big Brother really is watching.
Think about the power that gives to whomever is at the helm, setting up all of this virtual information. Pretty scary idea, isn't it? No more getting away with anything ever again. You are over a barrel and you don't even know it.
I just stood there and looked stupid. Choked up. Couldn't answer. What DO I do? I think I babbled for a while, trying to put off having to answer. Something had opened up and all I really wanted to do was cry. I was completely overwhelmed.
After having my tiny breakdown I took a deep breath and said," I am. " Yup, I really said that.
I am an Artist, a Mom, A Grandmother, a Wife, a Horse-Woman, a tree hugging, liberal humanist, vegetarian, commie pinko ACTIVIST, and, well the list goes on. You get the picture, right?
I AM FUC&ING COMPLICATED AND i DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS WHAT ABOUT ME!
What if we all practiced full disclosure from the very start? What if we just accepted who we are... WHAT IF I ACCEPTED WHO I AM ... And I did that without worrying about who I was supposed to please???!!!
Whew. Shouldn't be that hard to do, should it?
That poor guy. He was a professional pilot, a very literal, linear kind of person (and a good thing too. Don't want the guy flying the plane to go wondering off in his head about things like how we define ourselves. No room for philosophers in the cockpit.) and all he asked was one of those party things everyone asks while they try to be polite. " What do you do? "
So, later that week we flew home and I lost sleep. I kept thinking about the conversation I had with my now befuddled pilot, someone's Daddy, someone's husband who stood there looking at me while I had my Artist's breakthrough.
" I AM." I kept saying that to him, looking him square in the eyes. " I AM."
And then he looked back instead of looking around, trying to decide if he should make a polite run for it. And he said, " Yes. I think YOU ARE. You most certainly ARE."
Of course that's as far as my teeny, tiny breakthrough went. I did what I always do. I started laughing. It was a full blown head back belly laugh too. I didn't care if he thought I was bat shit crazy because I AM EXACTLY WHO I WANT TO BE. There's a big difference between intellectualizing that idea and knowing it in your gut.
Thankfully he turned out to be a really nice person who wasn't as linear as I thought. He laughed too! Have to admit it was a pretty awesome moment. (And my guess is that he won't forget it for a while either. He was as surprised as I was that we were laughing like that when we didn't know each other at all.)