Closets are for Clothes

It is much more comfortable to live outside of the closet.  First of all, there is absolutely no room in a closet. The lighting is terrible and it is an awful location for a party. On the other hand, it has always been a sorta safe place. A place where hate, opinions, and antiquated laws seemed to drift into oblivion.

Love doesn't fit well into closets.  Love is large and expansive.  Shame and fear are well-suited for small places.  Closets are for clothes.  In America, some people's closets are bigger than other people's homes. That, however, is fodder for another blog.

On Friday,  I boldly slammed the door on my personal closet of shame and fear.  Since Nicole and I were married on Wednesday (in the expansive state of Indiana), I decided to contact the HR rep for my school and add Nicole to my health insurance policy. As I pressed the send button on this email, my sweat glands engaged and I choked a bit.  This contracting emotion was quickly followed by joy.  Some things are worth the fear of losing a job.  Loving Nicole is one of those things.

There will be a massive celebration when fear makes way for love.  Following love is the only way we can create a world without violence, or hate, or war. Following love is the only way to heal.  Following love is the only way to set aside our need to control and allow ourselves to be consumed by faith and trust.

Sculpting a Life

One of the benefits of of following your heart is becoming better acquainted with who you are. This weekend, I followed my heart to Ft. Myers Beach to compete in an amateur sand sculpting competition. On Saturday, I awoke early, left my aging parents in slumber, chugged some coffee, and drove in my economy rental car to the nearest Lowes. There, I purchased a spade, a bucket, and plastic spatulas.  With tools in tow, I headed for the beach.

It was barely 8 am, the sun had risen, and the temperatures were already warm.   As I looked out at the expansive ocean, the remaining tension seeped from my body into the hard sand beneath my feet. 

Though the morning started with joy and phenomenal peace, anxiety quickly crept into my psyche as sand clumped with shells proved difficult to form and shape.  Saturday was practice day, I thought to myself.  What if I couldn't make the sand work...tomorrow was the competition, I would surely embarrass myself in front of all of the much more experienced and more talented sculptors. What if...? What if..? What if...? My mind raced with self-doubt.

One of the great aspects of aging is that anxiety gives way to self-assurance far more quickly than when I was younger. After several failed attempts with the sand, I decided to stop practicing, enjoy the day and hope for better sand, tomorrow, at the site of the competition.   

Sunday morning I was a bundle of nervous energy.  Having never entered a competition, I arrived early to ensure I had time to register and to take a look around. The master sculptors were hard at work, building magnificent, creative sand scenes.  Luckily, my sand area was much smaller and filled with a mere metric ton of sand that I would be moving and shaping. The solo masters are required to work with 10 tons of sand.  This physical element of the competition has led many sculptors to suggest that this medium is a sport, as well as, an art form. My muscles agree!

Today, as I fly home to Indiana. My attitude is brighter, more confident, and at peace.  This weekend, I challenged myself to follow a personal dream. Tomorrow, as I talk about and show pictures of my adventure to my students, I hope that in some small way I will inspire each of them to step inside their hearts and listen for the subtle guidance that will lead them to their dreams.

A Heart's Journey

Over the course of a lifetime dreams ebb and flow.  Some never become more than quiet murmurings.  Others take subtle root in our minds and hearts and germinate beneath the surface.

Twenty-five years have passed since my first experience sculpting sand.  This weekend, I will reconnect with this passion as I attempt to make sand and water resemble a manatee mother and her calf.

Risking to follow my heart's journey is more important than any class that I have taken or grade that I have received.  My hope is, that by following my own dream,  I will encourage each of my student's to look inward and then follow their own heart's journey.

From Dream to Reality: A Professional Development Exercise

It is 5:17 am on Tuesday morning.  I am on vacation.  I can't sleep. Why?  Because I am now worrying about the amateur sand sculpting competition that I am participating in on November 22nd.  Grrrrrrrrrrr!  

Dreams are much MORE fun when they are simply dreams. As a risk-taker, my first obstacle is always myself. Once I commit myself, and start to take steps toward my dream, fear kicks in.  Fear of looking silly.  Fear of being judged. Fear of failure. With 55 years of experience you would think I would be at ease with risk-taking. The truth is, the more important something is to me, the more I sweat it. 

In the end, I know that I won't allow myself to be paralyzed by my fear.  I know that once I design the sculpture, practice in clay or some other medium, and show up on the sand, my love for this hobby will kick in.  I will begin to relax and sink in to that place inside of me where hand, heart, and creative spirit meet.  

Risk-taking connects me more deeply to myself and in turn, to all people. It tears away at my walls and reminds me of my humanness.  It puts me squarely in the role of learner.  As a teacher, I can't imagine a more powerful exercise.  

Thank You, Sensei

I have not lived purposefully.  Instead, my life has been a patchwork of connected experiences. Truthfully, I have never had the confidence to make and carry out a long-term plan. Instead, I have made short-term, often reactive decisions.

Decisions like, "WOW! Now there is a REAL HOTTIE!"  Or, "YES! I wanna go to the beach!"  Or, "Definitely, I want to go back to school!"  

That was a bit of levity.

Over the past couple of years, I have had the opportunity to get to know someone who has a very different approach to her life.  She is purposeful.  She is decisive. She eliminates obstacles and keeps her focus squarely on her family and work goals.

Needless to say, she has my deep admiration.  

My relationship with this 34 year old woman, coupled with aging, has caused me to reflect on my approach to my life.  At 55, my attitude has shifted from, there is plenty of time to do what I want, to, I need to make the MOST of the time I have left.  

In my 30's, I discovered a passion and a talent for sand-sculpting.  Like many sand artists, this interest emerged via beach vacation.  After several sculpting vacations, I discovered that this passion took me to places within myself that I simply could not evoke in any other way. I connect with an indescribable peace and humility.  I become keenly aware that as transient is the art, so are all things. 

What I have recognized, is that I have undervalued my skills, and my passions.  I have chosen to take the safe route and have not risked to gain the rewards that come from facing who I am and committing to my personal desires and goals.

Today, that is changing...today, I am making a public commitment to myself to pursue this dream...wherever it takes me.  

And today, I bow to my unwitting Sensei. Thank you for the lesson.  You will always have my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude.  You know who you are.