My dear friend and sister artist Ann Haaland over at Paint Box Girl has encouraged me to write about my newest adventure.
I’ve just returned from my first intensive residency at Goddard College where I am pursuing an MFA-IA. The IA stands for Interdisciplinary Arts. Because I like to keep things short and sweet, I’ll leave it to you to look that up or see where it comes up again for you through the magic of synchronicity.
Not to be overly dramatic, but to be honest, the residency was a nightmare for me. A shamanic dismemberment in which at times I felt possessed by a disembodied chaotic spirit taking over my very soul.
Not fun. And yet. Of course. Completely. Changed me.
And so, I have started again a practice that’s fallen by the wayside for the last few years. Head stands. What else is one to do when one’s world is turned upside down?
I have never been so happy to be home. This is something I say every time I drive up to the house, from even a short jaunt to the city. (And by city I mean the only one there is. New York City. A conversation for another time if you think that statement overblown.)
I expected to be stimulated, but not so over stimulated. I hoped to be inspired. But instead, I encountered minutia, navel gazing and a particular strain of verbal diarrhea, the likes of which I have never experienced before. If that seems unkind, I won’t apologize for it. People don’t recognize themselves in novels; they are not likely to recognize themselves here.
I have spent half a life time listening to blow-hards in meetings. One can’t get up and walk out. But after the oceans of nausea, and the hours it took me to rebalance after a particulary gruelling session, I finally learned a powerful lesson in self preservation. I can walk out. At any time. On anything I like. On any part of life.
That may sound simple to you. That may sound ridiculous. That may sound impossible even. But believe me when I tell you, it was and is, one of the most powerful bits of medicine I have ever swallowed.
I have always believed that one of the most important things in life is to show up. And that is still a cornerstone. But walking out? It’s a new touchstone.
There are so many details of this journey, I might share with you. (There were some wonderful, exalted moments. And I did connect with some amazing souls with whom I feel blessed to be on this adventure.)
But let me leave you with this thought. When you fill in all the blanks, and the details, and all the nooks and crannies, you leave room for nothing, for no one. There is nothing to be interested in if you tell too much. I can’t site you any experts on this, except my own direct experience.
May the Magic Medicine of the upside down and backwards shake your world up now and then. And leave you plenty of room to fill in your own blanks.
