I think I need to stop believing in my masks, and start taking them off. Sometimes masks are good, or maybe they are our real selves- it’s hard to tell- when you pretend to be brave, and then you are, there’s nothing wrong with that it seems, and maybe eventually you realize you are really brave. On the other hand, you might not realize that you are as lovely and amazing and powerful as other see you, that you are a sham and it’s just an act.
The truth is, we need our masks not because the world will judge us, but because we are afraid of judging ourselves.
And that’s why, even though I have no plans of getting an MFA at the moment, even fhough I am not self consciously a Writer who goes to workshops and rants about the creative life and believes everyone should listen to everything I have to say, I need to own that. I need to own that I am an artist of life.
And admit that most of my problems in life come from the strss I have about coloring outside the lines, and rarely about actual external blockages or obstacles.
What I fear most, to be damn honeset, is the judgment of my family. That is the main blockage stopping me from being an artist of life.
Because I was raised to believ ethat if you color inside the lines, stick to your kind, and don’t question too much, everything will be alright. ANd if you can be a true believer in the ideology, so much the better, you are worthy, and if you do not, you are still a horrible person but at least you pass.
But if you dare to pay a bit of attention to the man behind the curtain, and say Oz is better than “home,” and stay on the other side of the looking glass, well, you think you are betterthan everyone, you are a crazy bitch, you have deserted your homeland, and you never really fit in anyone, so no wonder you’d preffer to be a freak in a place where no one expects you to fitin- no surprise at all.
And my corporate mask, it is a bit of that, but it is me too- I can bring more and more of myself to work- but I think the important thing is that I am my full self all the time, including out of work.
And that means doing things that are important to me- not just traveling, not just working out, not just getting my life in order in general- but especially creating.
The lack of creating is probably my bigges tblockage.
I’m not saing I have troubelwitht hte words when they flow. I think the bigger rporblem is not that i wnat to force them to flow, but that I hesitate to thake them seriously, hsitate to take myself serious.
I don’t let myself live the artist’s life I want, and so I tru to escape from it by fitting into molds that arent mine.
I try to deduce who I should fall in love with, which career I should do, and replace the hand of God with an algorithm.
I googl ethe answer to all my problems, instead of living the questions.
I don’t even use my own logic, I just copy and paste what I think will make people like me more and make sense to the most people when I make decisions.
And I’m done living with that.
I recognize that no man is an island and I have to get along with others.
I can’t hide from them, and I can’t just impose my will on them. No matter what I do, I am never going to be enough for some people, and I have to let that go.
Have to let that go, and let the chips fall where they may.
I can’t calculate every risk in terms of the social capital I will lose.
Ultimately I have to live for myself, according to my own values.
It will take even more courage than I”ve already used, but I’ve got more.
ANd I think when I have the courage to be myself, I will find courage to live the way I want too.
Because I deserve it.