Often my life seems to mirror the lament penned by T. S. Eliot “That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.”
Sometimes we are given the opportunity to say exactly what we mean. (only to have it fall on deaf ears)
I wonder. (who is deaf)
Today I was given the chance to present work that I done in the last six months.
“Amaturish”
“Formulaic”
“Unrefined”
It was a hard, grueling experience, which, to my credit, I weathered pretty well. I fought down the urge to “defend” and tried to keep the tone “conversational.” But the end, I felt sick. I felt like crying. I felt angry and mostly I felt misunderstood. “I’m not going to drive home right away” I later told J. on the phone. “I think I am going to give myself some time. I think I am going to let it be a hard, grueling experience, and not try to chase that away. Getting in my car right now would be like locking me up in a sensory deprevation chamber and watching my sanity slowly melt away.”
Some moments are hard. Wisdom can teach us to stear clear of them. Experience can teach us to prepare for them. But nothing makes the hard go away. Nothing takes the sting out of the of the hornet. Acceptance tells me that. Accepting how I am right now makes being who I am right now palletable. Not that it is enjoyable. I am going to get real comfortable with this 'being uncomfortable.' I am going to allow myself to feel this.
I tend to think that if something is wrong I can fix it and it will be right. This is god-like thinking, and I am not God. Some situations cannot be fixed. Some deaths cannot be avoided. Some expereinces just have to be felt, and in feeling them I am myself. Truly. Wholly. Honestly.
This is a doorway. I am going to walk through. There may be another side, or there may be nothing. I do not concern myself with these choices. Today I am going to work on just walking through.
1 comment:
Oh my God, you did SO WELL. Those three adjectives.... You are officially having one of the hardest MFA experiences and you are doing SO WELL.
I am just totally moved and awed and inspired and amazed (and also wincing and oh-honey-honey OUCH) by how you are willing to let it hurt, and not trying frantically to convert it into road rage or numbness or self-righteousness or shame or any of the usual stuff we like to convert pain into.
You keep standing in that doorway, confrère. We are all standing there too, with you, in solidarity.
Because sometimes human beings just have to sit in one place and, like, hurt.
(And, of course, none of those adjectives come to my mind when I see your work. But that's not the point. That is not it, at all.)
Post a Comment