Age and Time: Product and Process

"Satisfaction of one's curiosity is one of the greatest sources of happiness in life" 

- Linus Pauling

 CONFESSION: Because I was so struck by this section of this week's Artist's Way reading, a large portion, possibly a VERY large portion of this post, will be a direct "quote" from Julia Cameron.  Please don't accuse me of plagiarism, or worse yet, being a copycat, but I probably just can't say it better myself.  Although trust me, if I think I can find a way, I will...try anyway.

QUESTION: Do you know how old I'll be by the time I learn how to play the piano?

ANSWER: The same age you'll be if you don't.

I know this isn't a new idea, this is me speaking now, by the way, (already), not Julia, but I really, really feel like it is an IMPORTANT idea.  I suppose the older I get, and you too, the more important it feels.  We simply don't have time, to waste time.  It's not a luxury I possess as I strive to make something of what's left with my blooming life. (Did you know Martha Stewart was 50 when she launched her iconic empire? That's what she says anyway.)  

I've always felt like I was going to live a long, long time, not like forever, although it kind of felt that way, but to like 124 or 125, something like that.  I always just thought this was partly my minds way of tricking me into not facing my fear of death, but with technology, healthy living and good genes, well, 124 is not that far of a stretch if you really think about it.  So even without some kind of everlasting immortal life program being installed into my operating system, although I'm not ruling it out, I still think I will live a very long time...which means at 57, I'm still a kid.  I've got a lot of life left in me, especially after dying three times last weekend.  It seems like forever ago.  I'm not kidding.

So back to what Julia has to say.  "I'm too old for that" ranks with "I don't have money for it" as a Great Block Lie we use to prevent further exploration.  "I'm too old" is something we tell ourselves to save ourselves from the emotional cost of the ego deflation involved with being a beginner...

"I'm too old to be an actor" I've heard many students complain--dramatically.  They are not always pleased when I tell them this is not the case.  The splendid actor John Mahoney did not begin acting until he was nearly forty...

I'm too old to really be a writer" is another frequent complaint.  This is more ego-saving nonsense.  Raymond Chandler didn't publish until the far side of forty.  The superb novel Jules and Jim was written as a first novel by a man in his seventies.

I'm too old is an evasive tactic.  It is always used to avoid facing fear.

Now let's look at the other side: (this is still Julia talking, mind you) "I'll let myself try it when I'm retired."  This is an interesting side trip on the same ego-saving track.  As a culture, we glorify youth and allow our youth the freedom to experiment.  And we disparage our old-timers but allow them the right to be a little crazy.

Many blocked creatives tell themselves they are both too old and too young to allow themselves to pursue their dreams.  Old and dotty, they might try it.  Young and foolish, they might try it.  In either scenario, being crazy is a prerequisite to creative exploration.  We do not want to look crazy. (still Julia) And trying something like that (whatever it is) at our age (whatever it is) would look nuts.

Yes, maybe. (Julia) Yes, maybe.  (Me)

Creativity occurs in the moment, and in the moment, we are timeless (like when you die three times and live to talk about it...time shifts, this is me) We discover that as we engage in creative recovery.  "I felt like a kid" we may say after a satisfying artist's date.  Kids are not self-conscious (except I (Ronda) was...hmm) and once we are actually in the flow of our creativity, neither are we. 

Creative recovery is what I (Ronda again) now believe I've spent the past 30 years doing, the last decade doing frantically, the past 2 years doing fiercely.  Making my documentary was a huge eye-opening, cathartic undertaking. Even in the mere two weeks that it took me to pull it together, in the process, it painted a very real picture of my continual efforts to recover...myself.  It was painful to look at sometimes, dark, shadowy. But beautiful and bittersweet too.  I'm glad I did it.  It was the process that was necessary.

And now, I'm feeling younger every day...some days.  I'm feeling younger when I learn to begin...again, with grace.  I feel pretty good today.  (But enough me, let's get back to Julia).

We wonder how long it would take to do something.  Maybe a year, is the answer.  That seems like too long, so we do nothing.  Then a year goes by, and another year, and then another year and then it's been three years and what we could have had and been learning and working on all of that time is, if we are lucky, stored energetically in the ethers and has been used to work on micro healing or doing the other things that we could do even though we told ourselves that we "couldn't" do the thing.  The big thing.  (Wait, this is still me, or back to me, and I don't think I am digressing, just adding to Julia's point that...)

As blocked creatives, we like to pretend that a year or even several years is a long, long time. Our ego plays a little trick to keep us from getting started.  Instead of allowing ourselves a creative journey, we focus on the length of the trip...

At the heart of anorexic avoidance is the denial of process...The attention to final form ignores the fact that creativity lies not in the done but in the doing...

In a sense, no creative act is ever finished.  You can't learn to act, direct, write, ____ fill in the blank, because there will always be more to learn, the movie will never be perfectly finished, the good story will never come to a complete and final ending...(this is me)

This doesn't mean that the work accomplished is worthless.  Far from it.  It simply means that doing the work points the way to new and better work to be done.

Focused on process, our creative life retains a sense of adventure.  Focused on product, the same creative life can feel foolish or barren.  We inherit the obsession with product and the idea that art produces finished product from our consumer-oriented society.  This focus creates a great deal of creative block...Fixated on the need to have something to show for our labors, we often deny our curiosities.  Every time we do this, we are blocked.

Our use of age as a block to creative work interlocks with our toxic finished-product thinking.  We have set an appropriate age on certain activities: college graduation, going to med school, writing a first book (I'll add: starting a new career path, calling yourself an artist and putting yourself out in front of the world, and relationships...falling in love, staying in love, believing the sky is the limit in love and life).

What are your excuses?  (This is Ronda asking now) Ask yourself which ones you have been using.  Are they beginning to sound flimsy to you?  Good.  Then ask yourself if you can acquire the humility to start something despite your ego's reservations. (These are a summary of Julia's words, but I agree)

And please don't doubt that I am applying them to myself as well.  I've been working through this Artist's Way process for a purpose.  To heal.  To grow.  To set myself free, once and for all.  Except that there will always be room to grow.  There will always be more stuff being dislodged that needs to be healed, and that's ok.  Because I understand what the local artist Jim Galucci meant when his advice for me as an aspiring artist was: "Do the work."

It's the process, which I am still discovering, it's the ability to show up each day to do something to move the needle of my life forward.  And I am actually happy to wake up each day and do something about it.  I am happy to be a player in this beautiful game of life.

As I mentioned in my last post, I just started a new 6-month training program last Friday and over the weekend I doubled down and enrolled in another 6-month program. (Don't ever take me to Vegas or do but know the risk.)  I'm going to be getting down and dirty in process between these two courses and I am absolutely going to be a beginner.  And I'm a little nervous.  I am maybe even a little scared, but I don't have the time, I don't have the luxury to live in that energy.  I simply keep trying to move it forward step by step, little by little each day.

And I will leave you with the final thoughts from this section, from Julia:

The grace to be a beginner is always the best prayer for an artist.  The beginner's humility and openness lead to exploration.  Exploration leads to accomplishment.  All of it begins at the beginning, with the first small and scary step.

If I can do it, you can do it too. This is me speaking.  Ronda.  I believe.  I believe in me.  I believe in you.  I believe in us.  Forget the product.  Let's enjoy the process.