Jun
12

Showing Up Can Be Hard Work

My phone rang about five minutes ago. A friend called to ask me where have I been lately? My response was, ” What do you mean, I’ve been right here?” And to that he replied, ” Well, I certainly haven’t read anything on your blog this week that YOU have written- where are you?”

Well, it appears dear reader, my friend has it right- this week I have gone a bit “missing” in my posts. My attitude, opinions, what I value and need to say have indeed had almost a week of unexplained absences. So, at least let me offer an explanation to break my silence- Yesterday was my birthday.

I hate my birthday frankly. I dread its arrival. Every year I see it coming and I pack my cement filled suitcases in advance for a trip into self doubt and uncertainty. I have worked hard to try and overcome this- remember me, the happily-ever-after-wanna-be-a-believer-sort? But, I have not, in now 44 years, been successful at being able to trade in those concrete filled suitcases for a backpack filled with helium so I can instead, float right through it.

Why can’t I just be happy-go-lucky and not ponder such deep questions like who am I REALLY? What DOES matter most to me in life and DOES ANYONE REALLY CARE if artists thrive or suffer? Besides, if anyone does, what makes ME the expert about any of this anyway? And WHY AM I so passionate about this in the first place??

Adding insult to injury, yesterday bright and early in the morning, hoping for a life line call offering me a free helium filled backpack for the day, I received a call instead from someone who offered one more cement suitcase to add to my prized collection. This individual called to question my integrity and, more or less, accuse me of lifting someone’s ideas and claiming to pass them off as my own.

On one hand, I guess I should be happy to know that this blog is being well read enough to cause this kind of thing to surface, but the additional cement filled suitcase this added, to my already heavy load that I have been dragging around this week, frankly, I most certainly could have done without.

Gosh. The cosmos really does know exactly where to strike and WHEN. And yes, when your down it does seem most likely to hit you. Why does this all have to seem so hard?

Of course, I explained to this individual that I would NEVER do what I was being accused of. EVER. I made a small mistake, well maybe even a couple, just simple oversights resulting in a lack of proper blogging etiquette, that’s all. Please forgive me, because after all who am I anyway?? And couldn’t she just instead feel my pain and PLEASE TAKE one of my cement filled suitcases with her instead of leaving it?

OK. Whew- glad I got that off my chest, thanks for listening. Enough of the loathing and self doubt. Let’s face it. Not every day is a red letter day. Being wacked upside the head, while carrying a concrete suitcases around, never encourages anyone of us to want to show up and let our audiences, supporters, clients,or donors in to take a peak at where we really are.

We are suppose to “look” professional. Have something intelligent to say. Offer proof we are a force to be reckoned with and worth the time and money others invest in us or our products.

But, one thing I know for sure, you have been right where I have been too, at some point, for some reason or by your own design.

And another thing I know for sure, is by letting all of you know exactly where I am it’s as if I have mustered the strength to tell the bell hop ” Take these suitcases please! I am ready to walk a little bit lighter”… at least for another 364 days….

Showing Up to your audience, clients, supporters, fans or donors can be hard to do. But try and do it anyway. Thanks Andrew for inspiring today’s post. ( Note: due credit given.)

Creative Commons License
Resource Center for Arts Entrepreneurs by Entrepreneur The Arts is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at www.EntrepreneurTheArts.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at www.EntrepreneurTheArts.com.