Discovering a Sense of Perspective
Yesterday I was filled with plans and not enough time to blog. The day was awesome and I wouldn't change a thing about it. I ended up out in Long Island at a Golden Globes party with a group of great friends.
Week 3 is all about learning how to look at the world. I've heard it said a million times that all you have to do is change how you se things. Everything is real, but it's the angle you use to see them. I know that my day runs smoother when I'm in a better mood and I'm much more forgiving and easier to be around. How easily can you change the way you see the world on a day to day basis? I'm starting to learn that making a long term change really entails simply making the best choices possible over and over again. Nothing longterm is ever overnight and most things are worth working for.
This chapter of the book so far has been about starting to discard the labels you place around yourself and to use your energy to create instead of getting frustrated and irritable. There have been many times in my life where I feel artistically crippled and I remember lashing out at people for reasons that didn't really matter. I would decide that someone or something in my life was making me unhappy and ignore that really it had been that I wasn't expressing myself. Sometimes being creative and allowing yourself to try new things is difficult and scary. What would someone say if they saw? What if it does't look "right"? What if I'm horrible at it? All valid feelings, but what are those unknowns stopping me from doing? Probably a lot more then I realize.
I'm Now Friends With Someone Who Barks
My building in midtown has been known to have a few less-then-centered people that live in here. I'm not including myself in that statement, but I'll understand if you chuckle just the same. There is actually a sort of halfway house across the street and a lot of the people that leave that building move into the surrounding ones so they are still near by. There is one woman who lives in my building that is constantly sitting on the front steps and whenever someone walks by, she growls. Not necessarily a threatening growl, but one none-the-less. I've never seen her bite anyone, but every one of my friends that has come over has noticed. Sometimes I walk past her on the street, or see her at the Starbucks on the corner, and we've never spoken. Until, of course, now, because I'm not wearing headphones. And, well, it's rude to look directly at someone time and time again and not say hi. Now, I can't hide behind my phone, or act like I don't see/hear her because of my music. The first time I smiled and said "Hello", it took her a moment to respond and now, every time I see her, we say hello. She asked me if I had a dog the other day. For no reason I guess. I said, "No, but I really want one. I love dogs." She said I shouldn't get one, that they are horrible. I told her to have a good afternoon and retreated to my apartment. Why does she hate dogs? And furthermore, why does she growl like one if she hates them? I'm curious if maybe she was attacked by one at some point and her growling is her way to protect herself? It certainly keeps people from talking to her, looking at her, and trying to get to know her. Well, most people.
Morning Pages:
CHECK - They've been getting harder because drama is usually easier to write about and right now, I just don't feel like I have that much going on in my life to cause me stress. But, I'm thankful for that, so I'm okay with my morning pages maybe being a little boring.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Week 2, Day 7
As week 2 comes to a close, I am noticing somewhat of an energy inside myself that I can control better. It has to do with the feeling out the space around myself. If I concentrate, I feel like I'm allowing myself to grow larger and fill more space. I feel more open, and more in tune with my body and the world. I do believe in energy and being able to control what positive and negative energy you put out. It's been an interesting week.
Morning Pages:
CHECK.
Artist's Date:
This week for my artists date I decided to go looking for white candles for the fireplace in my new room. I would like to fill the space with all sorts of shape and sizes of white candles. It isn't a working fireplace, so an actual fire is out of the question, but flames are okay. Unfortunately, I didn't really find any that I love. Who would think that white candles could be specific? Along my way, I ended up stoping off at the Time Warner Center next to Central Park to possibly pick up a new book. There happens to be a Dali exhibit going on, so I checked it out. I've been a fan of his work for a long time and I hadn't expected to see his bronzed masterpieces in such a space. It's sometimes weird to see art outside of artistic places. To see a piece of work that is so creative and beautiful just thrown out into the hustle and bustle of the world. People casually walked around the pieces as if they were nothing and the people that stopped to read about the pieces were in the minority. Usually "art" is set up in an area around other art, where people are quiet and looking to be moved. But, for art to be the stillness in a crowded busy space, it was almost as if the bronzed statues were watching the people. They were no longer the art, but watching the world as a moving painting. Sometimes I feel like an observer; I love watching people, do anything really. I wonder how it would feel to be standing silently, on display, watching people watch you. In truth, maybe that is exactly what we all are.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Inspirational
Mark 11:24 Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. [25] And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.
Week 2, Day 6
Yesterday was filled with me running all over town and hanging with friends that I needed to catch up with, so I was unable to update from my computer.
Something that I've struggled with for as long as I can remember are the clear boundaries that all relationships must have. It doesn't matter if it is a friendship, dating, or another, there are always boundaries that have to be decided on unconsciously and then vocalized if necessary. I've had it happen multiple times were the boundaries are not clear and then someones feelings get hurt and so forth, so from this point on, I'm choosing to make all my boundaries clear and respect other peoples better. It seems like such a common idea, of course every relationship has places it goes and doesn't go, but when the lines get smudged, it gets messy fast.
This morning I finished the last task for week 2, Shape Shifting. This is a 10 question, fill in the blank, assignment. The goal of the exercise is to lead you into admitting areas of your life that you've always had interest in, but never took the time you seek out and explore. After filling in the questions you have to write to your "inner artist" for 15 minutes in the form of a letter. My letter consisted of apologies for ignoring myself, some of my wants and dreams. I made promises to listen to myself more and to explore areas of my life that i've always been interested in, but for one reason or another choose not to check out. There is a pottery class around the corner of my apartment that I've been meaning to check out, so now would be the best time to do it. :-) One of my sisters is great on "the wheel" and I've often been curious about working with clay. It seems like it could be very soothing, and anything that I can relax my mind to sounds like a good time to me.
Morning Pages:
CHECK!
Tomorrow I have to go on my artist's date. I don't know what I'm planning for myself yet, but it's going to be fun.
Something that I've struggled with for as long as I can remember are the clear boundaries that all relationships must have. It doesn't matter if it is a friendship, dating, or another, there are always boundaries that have to be decided on unconsciously and then vocalized if necessary. I've had it happen multiple times were the boundaries are not clear and then someones feelings get hurt and so forth, so from this point on, I'm choosing to make all my boundaries clear and respect other peoples better. It seems like such a common idea, of course every relationship has places it goes and doesn't go, but when the lines get smudged, it gets messy fast.
This morning I finished the last task for week 2, Shape Shifting. This is a 10 question, fill in the blank, assignment. The goal of the exercise is to lead you into admitting areas of your life that you've always had interest in, but never took the time you seek out and explore. After filling in the questions you have to write to your "inner artist" for 15 minutes in the form of a letter. My letter consisted of apologies for ignoring myself, some of my wants and dreams. I made promises to listen to myself more and to explore areas of my life that i've always been interested in, but for one reason or another choose not to check out. There is a pottery class around the corner of my apartment that I've been meaning to check out, so now would be the best time to do it. :-) One of my sisters is great on "the wheel" and I've often been curious about working with clay. It seems like it could be very soothing, and anything that I can relax my mind to sounds like a good time to me.
Morning Pages:
CHECK!
Tomorrow I have to go on my artist's date. I don't know what I'm planning for myself yet, but it's going to be fun.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Week 2, Day 4
Identify Your Identity Walk
Yesterday I mentioned about the 1 hours artists walk that was part of the task of uncovering places of encouragement as a child and how it effects you today. How people have told you who you are and just exactly how big you are allowed to be. Today I took my walk with the focus of my thinking shifted to my childhood and things I loved to do. As a small child I played the sports that my parents signed me up for because I was supposed to. I actually had no choice in the matter. In fact, I hated the competition aspect of the games. My older sisters were involved much more in athletics then I was, but after each game they would spend hours picking apart each player, the things they did and what my sisters could have done better. Many times these conversations would end in anger, frustration, and tears. The outcome of playing the games never really seemed that worth it to me. When I was finally old enough to play little league, I enjoyed it enough to want to join the older team. Which, in turn, took all the fun out of the game. The competitiveness was overwhelming and simply left me not wanting to try. I had no friends on the team and more often then not would end up sitting in the outfield during the innings. No one ever hit the ball to the outfield, so I was fine. I'd usually bat once a game and more often then not, strike out. I was never encouraged by my coach or any of the teams players to do better and I honestly didn't care. My parents had started going through their divorce and there were other things on my mind. Catching a ball or hitting one with a bat seemed much less important then the constant arguing that was exploding between every member of my family.
It wasn't until middle school that I realized I had a talent in the art department. We had a new art teacher that would encourage us to work on our own projects and allow us to create for the sake of creating. I remember the principle of my school asking if he could have a painting I'd done of an indian, and to this day as far as I know, it is still hanging in his living room. Towards the end of my 7th grade years, we had a program called middle school connections and I remember not really telling my family about it until the night of. I assumed that because it wasn't sports, my father would have no interest. To my surprise, he was angry that I hadn't shared it with him and ended up coming that night.
In high school I joined the drama club and took drama class. My parents would come to the shows, but I always felt that my father would only come because he felt he had to. My mother would come, but I don't remember her ever really saying anything good or bad about the shows. It was after her brain surgery and I think it was hard for her to sit through an hour and a half show. I remember my father always congratulating me and taping the shows. I never watched them, but I imagine that if I was to now, they would be rather funny.
Now, living in NYC, I did my first black box theater show a few months ago and my father and step-mom came to visit me in NYC and see the show. Afterwards my father congratulated me again and went on to tell me not to ever let go of my dreams. He told me that no one is ever better then me and not to think that way. He told me never to stop doing what I love and reminded me that it just takes one person to believe in you and give you a chance. It wasn't until this that I realized that my father didn't care of I played sports, or if I acted, he cared that I did something I enjoyed. He pushed for the sports to hard because it was something that he loved, and thought he could share that joy with me, his son. I wonder how different some things would have been for me if I'd listened to his support in high school. I wonder if it would have changed anything at all? I always took my fathers support with a grain of salt, and I should have allowed it to have more value.
Yes, all of this came into clear view during my walk today.
Morning Pages:
Check. I wrote another letter to God. It was filled with my dreams and goals. Hey, if you don't ask, how can you expect to receive?
Tomorrow I have to talk a small walk to think about my real goals and what steps I can take to make them a reality. Life is all about one step at a time, so maybe tomorrow I'll take another one in the right direction. Or, figure out a way to take more then one at a time and make my dreams a reality faster then I thought I could.
Yesterday I mentioned about the 1 hours artists walk that was part of the task of uncovering places of encouragement as a child and how it effects you today. How people have told you who you are and just exactly how big you are allowed to be. Today I took my walk with the focus of my thinking shifted to my childhood and things I loved to do. As a small child I played the sports that my parents signed me up for because I was supposed to. I actually had no choice in the matter. In fact, I hated the competition aspect of the games. My older sisters were involved much more in athletics then I was, but after each game they would spend hours picking apart each player, the things they did and what my sisters could have done better. Many times these conversations would end in anger, frustration, and tears. The outcome of playing the games never really seemed that worth it to me. When I was finally old enough to play little league, I enjoyed it enough to want to join the older team. Which, in turn, took all the fun out of the game. The competitiveness was overwhelming and simply left me not wanting to try. I had no friends on the team and more often then not would end up sitting in the outfield during the innings. No one ever hit the ball to the outfield, so I was fine. I'd usually bat once a game and more often then not, strike out. I was never encouraged by my coach or any of the teams players to do better and I honestly didn't care. My parents had started going through their divorce and there were other things on my mind. Catching a ball or hitting one with a bat seemed much less important then the constant arguing that was exploding between every member of my family.
It wasn't until middle school that I realized I had a talent in the art department. We had a new art teacher that would encourage us to work on our own projects and allow us to create for the sake of creating. I remember the principle of my school asking if he could have a painting I'd done of an indian, and to this day as far as I know, it is still hanging in his living room. Towards the end of my 7th grade years, we had a program called middle school connections and I remember not really telling my family about it until the night of. I assumed that because it wasn't sports, my father would have no interest. To my surprise, he was angry that I hadn't shared it with him and ended up coming that night.
In high school I joined the drama club and took drama class. My parents would come to the shows, but I always felt that my father would only come because he felt he had to. My mother would come, but I don't remember her ever really saying anything good or bad about the shows. It was after her brain surgery and I think it was hard for her to sit through an hour and a half show. I remember my father always congratulating me and taping the shows. I never watched them, but I imagine that if I was to now, they would be rather funny.
Now, living in NYC, I did my first black box theater show a few months ago and my father and step-mom came to visit me in NYC and see the show. Afterwards my father congratulated me again and went on to tell me not to ever let go of my dreams. He told me that no one is ever better then me and not to think that way. He told me never to stop doing what I love and reminded me that it just takes one person to believe in you and give you a chance. It wasn't until this that I realized that my father didn't care of I played sports, or if I acted, he cared that I did something I enjoyed. He pushed for the sports to hard because it was something that he loved, and thought he could share that joy with me, his son. I wonder how different some things would have been for me if I'd listened to his support in high school. I wonder if it would have changed anything at all? I always took my fathers support with a grain of salt, and I should have allowed it to have more value.
Yes, all of this came into clear view during my walk today.
Morning Pages:
Check. I wrote another letter to God. It was filled with my dreams and goals. Hey, if you don't ask, how can you expect to receive?
Tomorrow I have to talk a small walk to think about my real goals and what steps I can take to make them a reality. Life is all about one step at a time, so maybe tomorrow I'll take another one in the right direction. Or, figure out a way to take more then one at a time and make my dreams a reality faster then I thought I could.
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