Can I be an American Idol?

Today I had my second ceramics class. I am not an artist, and I am very nervous. I don't want to mess up or fail. However, there is another student in my class whose anxiety is far stronger than mine. She is so scared of failing that she doesn't even start. Funny thing is, I am sure she would be great at ceramics. The first piece she did had symmetry and detail, unlike my uneven edges and imperfect shapes. Still, she is paralyzed of her fear of not being right. 

We live in a society that judges everyone, and everything, all the time. Think about our TV shows, American Idol, X Factor, Dancing With the Stars. Passionate people sit in front of judges, who tell them whether they are good enough to continue with their craft. The silly thing is, these shows rely on concensus. All judges have to agree for the person to move on or get a high score. But in art, in romance and in life, when is  unanimous approval for love or pleasure?

Think about your favorite singer. Would everyone agree that he/she has a great voice or the best voice? No, but the music they make is good to YOU. It moves YOU. And thats all you need, right? If they have 1 fan or 1 million fans, that doesn't change its appeal to you. Think about the person you love. Does it matter internally if other people love them as much as you do? You probably wouldn't want anyone else to love them the way you do right? Your interest in them is enough to make them interesting, not a panel of judges, not universal enjoyment. The crowd doesn't matter to your heart. 

So why does the crowd matter at all? Why do we let the potential for criticism stop us from starting. Why can't being good enough for a small group, or being good enough for ourselves, be good enough to make the first attempt?

Maybe I can't be the American Idol of any of my endeavors. But that wont stop me from celebrating my own work, singing my own song, and trying my best. 

Withdrawing Compassion

Today at church we were talking about compassion.

I had a revelation. Compassion is something that I struggle with. Admitedly, I’ve been spending so much time thinking about myself and my needs that I have thought little about how I can give to others. Like a seesaw, my balance has been skewed to what I need from others, but little about how my giving can sway the balance. 

Even with the imbalance, I’m not guilty for lack of trying. I may think about myself a lot, but I’m not selfish. I give with the best of them--- my money, my time, my heart. However, lately I’ve grown weary in well doing and I ‘ve had to ask the question, when is enough enough?

How patient should you be with family and friends that are set in their ways? How many times should you try new things, if the hunch is that you will get more of the old? How often should you forgive and forget, knowing that the person has no intention to change? How hard should you fight for a family if no one else is trying to get in the ring? How many times can you explain how you feel and try to be a good friend, while being ignored? How often should you assume the best in someone, when they are showing you who they are daily?  What does compassion look like when you get so little back?

Giving until my heart hurts has left me with that, a hurt heart.

Acceptance comes into play. I need to accept the fact that compassion does not equal an even exchange. My family is my family. My friends are my friends. People are who you are. You don’t get back what you give. Hardly, ever. And that’s not why you do it, either. But there comes a point between rational acting and foolishness, and there is also the need for self preservation. To be honest, but when you get back nothing, or so little, it hinders your ability to give at all. Its kind of like fighting. A punch takes so much momentum, it needs impact. Landing blows gives the fighter the force that it takes to keep going, even if it is a losing battle. If you hit and miss, you get nothing back, and all the inertia of force can knock the wind out of the fighter.

I’d rather get something than nothing. I’d rather have a fight than be ignored, I’d rather have a passionate argument than be met with indifference. When it comes to compassion, I’d rather know that the other party is trying to care back and failing, rather than the other options.

But in most of my key relationships, this is not happening. My compassion is not being met the way I’d like it to be.  Sometimes I feel its not being met at all. I’m not feeling more trust, more care, more love, more support or more understanding. I feel like I’m jumping through hoops like a circus, trying for things that may be in vain, with people who fail see my value or their own.

Perhaps compassion is being given to me in other ways, through other sources. Perhaps its paying it forward. Maybe God is blessing me outside of these people. Maybe I’m just wanting what I want, not seeing the blessing that is apparent or the blessing that is needed. I am probably way too self centered in this moment to see that, though.

But I have decided that I’m done fighting for and with other people. I’m done pouring my compassion into things and people that don’t give it back. Its not that they don’t deserve it or that I shouldn’t give it. Its just that I’m done fighting, for the family that is unified, for the friends that understand. I'm tired of trying to see the best in others, try when others are not, or just go the extra mile. I have decided to put down my gloves and unball my fists, and grip tightly to myself.  This time I’ll fight for me.

I’ve never not fought with anyone. I’ve always fought to be loved, to be understood, to be heard, to be accepted. This time I wont. If they don't come through, if they walk away, if they're never there, if they're half hearted... It is what it is. I’ll give nothing. Maybe then I'l be more comfortable with the nothing that I get, knowing its deserved, this time.

But I wont give up on compassion. Not at all. I’ll cultivate it deeply and turn it inward. I’ll give it all to me. I’ll fight for myself so vehemently that any threats to it, to my peace, my time, my trust and my love will be sorry they ever tried. I'll fight with myself, until I create responses that work for me, with my best interests in mind. I'll be my best self, with the people that see the best me.  I’ll pour only into relationships that give it all back. The trust that I wanted to give, the love that I tried to receive…. I’ll give it all to me. That might mean everyone I know will get ignored. That’s ok. Compassion will be self compassion. I’ll give it, and this time, I’ll know that I’ll receive all I deserve.

50 shades of black (part I)

               So I have a secret. I am into, if not obsessed with, Fifty Shades of Grey. Billed as the adult twilight by some, this trilogy is about the unassuming college coed Ana Steele, who gets involved with mega rich bachelor Christian Grey. At first Mr. Grey wants to introduce Ana to the world of BDSM and have her as his submissive (a sexual partner who acquiesces to his demands of punishment and pleasure at will). He soon falls in love with her, and that’s where it gets interesting. Some people dismiss the book as erotica fiction, but true fans know its about a love story. My question for you is, could such a love story happen between a black man or a black woman in a book? What about in real life?

               In the books, Christian and Ana are forced to conquer inner and outer demons together. There struggle is made easier by the fact that, since nearly day 1, Christian is head over heels for Ana. He wants to be with her and do everything for her. He only has eyes for her, and is not ashamed to show it. When talking to some friends about the book (who were black females), most said that they could not see both characters being black. Why not? Is it the fact that Christian is P. Diddy rich that makes him seem rare for a black man? Is it that Ana is so willing to submit to her man that makes her seem unrealistic for a black woman? Is it the kinky sex that makes them both seem nonblack? Is it that there is very little drama between the two partners (no baby mamas, unemployment, no trust issues, or just the every day struggles of racism) that makes it hard to believe they could be black?

               In fiction and in real life, romance seems to come so much quicker and easier for white girls. I know so many white girls under 26 who are married, happily. I know far fewer black women in that predicament. Popular images of love and relationships dictate our expectations. Maybe the fact that we can’t believe in a black Christian and Ana is because we see so few examples of this in music, movies and literature. There are 50 shades of grey, but far fewer shades of black in popular culture.

              So what do you think? Can you think of great (contemporary) love stories between a black man and a black woman? Can you think of them in media? Can you think of them in your own life? Do you think you will find your Christian or your Ana? Does race have a part to play in the search for love?  

What's the purpose of all the broken pieces?

Growing up, I hated puzzles. I could never get the pieces to fit. Even though the box had a perfect image on the front, I could never seem to get my pieces fit quite the way I envisioned. For that reason, I usually ended up angrily throwing the pieces back into the box and walking away to pick up a simpler game, like Solitare. 

Now that I am older, I still hate puzzles. Whenever I pull them out, I quickly get assistants to put them together for me. They produce an anxiety in me. What if, despite my best efforts, they still don't fit together?

Lately, I feel like my life is like a puzzle. Lots of pieces, thrown together. However, unlike a puzzle, the pieces don't seem to quite fit. Some of them are broken. Fragments of friends, shards of family, blunt edges of dreams and small pieces of hope. Where do they all go? 

Maybe life is less like the puzzle, which is waiting for just the right arrangement of the pieces. Maybe it is more like a mosaic. Broken pieces, some to be discarded, but many there to be put together, arranged and rearranged. The beauty of a mosaic is that it combines things from multiple sources--- jewels and things that were once discarded, and puts them together to make a beautiful arrangement. Mosaics made out of the most delicate pieces, like glass, can reflect light. 

So maybe thats the purpose of all the broken pieces. To come together, to reflect light. 

The Holding it In Pattern

For the past year, every time I have been out to the club, these words have echoed in my ear. They say “tonight, I want all of you tonight. Give me everything tonight. For all we know, we might not last tomorrow, lets do it tonight!” Then a girls incomprehensible mumbling takes over, until Ne-Yo comes back even stronger telling me to “grab somebody sexy”. That part, I agree with. The former, however, makes me deeply uncomfortable.

The idea of giving one person, one job, one goal, one whatever, everything, is deeply unsettling to me. Like putting your eggs in one basket, if they drop you, or you drop it, what do you have? Nothing. You gave everything, though. I feel like the holding back pattern is one that I’ve adopted. I have been reluctant to give all of myself to my endeavors. Whether that means not giving all of myself to God, not giving all of myself in social or romantic relationships, or not giving all of myself to a goal by being over committed, I am reluctant to give one thing everything, all at once. That seems like a fast track to being let down…. No matter how enticing Ne-Yo and Pitbull make it sound.

What about you? Are you in the process of giving your all to a person, place or thing? How does it feel? 

The Holding Pattern

              Recently I’ve felt like I’ve been stuck. Having accomplished all of my goals, I am unsure about what motivates me. With nothing to strive for, and limited enjoyment with what I have, I have been feeling like I am in a holding pattern. Just like the planes, going in a circle, waiting for the right time to move. But this time, the time cannot be determined by me. Just like the planes, who need messages from above (air traffic control) and below (the landing crew), I feel like I am still waiting on signs from God and the world about where and when to move.

              A lot of people have been dismissive of this. They call it a funk, a mood, a depression. They call it ungreatful. “If I had what you had…” However, I do not think its my fault, or that it is necessarily a problem. The holding pattern is not a punishment for delinquent planes. It is something that many planes go through. Air traffic control must find them a time to land that will put them out of proximity to other planes. The ground staff must prepare the gates, so that when they land, there is something to usher them into their destination.  Like the holding pattern, I feel that the only thing for me to do is wait. Wait and see what the next sign is. And I am learning to be ok with it. After all, a holding pattern still means you are flying, right?

Let Me Be Your Motivation

What motivates you? Is it money? Is it love? Is it passion? Is it the desire to get better? Is it pure enjoyment?

Lately I feel that nothing is motivating me or inspiring me. Everything is bland and basic. Nothing is challenging for me. I have pretty good friends, but no one is particularly exciting or interesting. I have no lovers that make me swoon. I have no hobbies that keep me awake at night.  I am not participating in anything spiritual or intellectual that is larger than my self.  I do not feel particularly connected to a group or an entity. I am just floating…..

I am not unhappy. For the first time in a long time I can say that without having to wonder. I am not depressed or overly anxious. I am very much content with what I have and who I am, the path that I am on and the steps taken to get there. I am just not terribly excited about anything….

What is more unsettling to me is that I do not know what will motivate me. For the first time in a long time, I have no aspiration. I have done all that I have desired to do. Gone to school, made major purchases, seen the world.... I've done it all, at least, all that can be quantified. Of course, there is so much more. But what is that more…. Everything else is more conceptual (fall in love, produce something great, just grow and share myself)….

So, what should I do to shake myself out of this place?