Very often I feel like the minister in church delivers his sermon straight to me. It is unnerving to think he sees me for who I really am and then wrote a sermon to address one of my issues. But then I look around and see others nodding and realize maybe it is to them that he is speaking. At the very least it is several of us, not just me!
This past Sunday I went to hear an author speak at a local church. I thought I had left home early enough, but the crowd was large and when I turned into the parking lot I realized I should have left sooner. After parking at the top of the furthest parking deck, I walked through hallway after hallway to get to the right spot for the lecture. Most of the seats were full except for the ones on the very back row, which was almost totally empty. So I walked down the back row and got square in the middle.
When the author and speaker, Anne Lamott, came onto the stage, I felt like she and I were looking eye to eye. The short people in front of me, the slope of the seats and the cut out in the middle for the sunken tech booth all worked together to give me the feeling that I was straight in her sight line. And man, was she talking to me!
She talked a lot about writing, something I do for my job as well as my hobby. I love to write. Everything I think about, I think of it as an essay. Every time I talk, it is in the form of a story, or a monologue. I look forward to writing probably more than anything else I do in a day.
I have written some fiction, and it is fair. I sometimes hear part of a conversation or see something happen and my mind begins to make up the “rest of the story.” I took a play writing class in college thinking that since I love to write and love theatre, I would be a natural playwright. I was so wrong! Writing in all dialogue is hard and not the way I usually tell a story. I passed that class, but knew that I was definitely NOT a playwright.
Blogging about my experiences is the most fun for me of all of the styles of writing. I enjoy writing my reviews for BroadwayWorld.com, but I love just writing about what I see, hear, experience and think. That is, when I let myself actually do it.
Most every day something hits me that I want to write about. Whether it is political, spiritual, funny, irreverent or irrelevant, I see something to write about wherever I turn. Yesterday I helped a kid at Overflow as he was writing an essay for school. He really didn’t make clear what he was doing, but with the little bit he told me, ideas began to fill my head. He complained that he had to write at least four whole paragraphs and I chucked. I could write four whole paragraphs about helping him write four whole paragraphs!
But many times over the years I have gotten sensitive about my writing. I really put myself out there when I write. If someone comments on my truthfulness and how much they appreciate it, it makes my day. But other times I feel like I say too much, let people get too close. When you write, you are somewhat separated from the people you are “talking” to. You don’t actually see the people reading your words. With someone staring at you, you might be more shy and reserved. In my quiet office with just my computer listening, I feel like I can say anything.
But can I really?
I often hear from people and then have to go back and reread what I wrote, imaging I am the person who has commented and I see my writing in a different way. Little by little I have edited myself to the point that I seldom write what I am thinking about. To be honest, over my lifetime, I have edited myself down to be less of me than I was before.
My mom used to tell me how I was as a child. When I was 5 or 6 I was a performer. Not only did I do plays, I would turn around in the booth at restaurants and talk to the strangers at the next table, often asking them if I could sing them a song. I was bright and bubbly, inquisitive and funny. At about 8 years old I was told I couldn’t be in the theatre anymore, that I needed to study more. I was told to sit down, turn around, face forward and stop talking so much. And I always do what I am told.
Slowly, but surely I changed until I was a super shy, self conscious teenager and young adult. After getting married and having a child, I tried really hard to fit the mold of suburban wife and mom. Since I didn’t grow up in a neighborhood, I had to learn to be that person. And I think I did pretty good at it. After all, I was born to be a performer. But little by little something inside of me died.
Anne Lamott spoke to me (sorry you other 1200 or so people that were there that night, she was speaking to me) and talked about how we don’t show up for our lives because we are just trying to get through the day without being humiliated. We aren’t seeking the truth of who we are, we just don’t want anyone to laugh at us. But when we separate from ourselves and who we were born to be, we separate from God. After all, he made us to be whatever loud, wild person we truly are.
Ms. Lamott told me that you start where you are, you write your truth and you don’t apologize for it.
She told a story about driving at night and how when you turn on your car lights you can only see a short way ahead of you. But you can go a really long way like that, just seeing a little bit of what is ahead at a time.
She told me that I own every story that happens to me and that they are my stories to tell. She told me to show up and write. She reminded me that you are most proud of the things you do that you never thought you could do. She reminded me to go big or go home. She told me to burst into bloom before I burst into flames.
She reminded me that feelings are messy, but it is necessary to feel them thoroughly and completely.
So now I feel like painting again. I feel like writing more and I want to find out who I am again. I think the people who tell me to sit still, be quiet, and try to take up less space (although most of the time that person is me!) need to hear the last words of wisdom she shared with me, “‘No’ is a complete sentence.”
Anne Lamott was not exactly what I expected her to be. And that is OK, because I am not exactly what I expected me to be either. She was exactly what I needed on that particular night and I hope that the other people weren’t too disappointed that she spent the evening talking only to me. But I really needed her to do that. I really needed her to remind me that I can be my true self after all of this time. I needed her to pull me out of the hole I was slowly digging for myself.
So I will be loud and sing for the people at the next table. I will laugh and tell silly stories in different voices. I will write about what happens to me and I won’t apologize if I happen to put you in my story. And maybe I will share too much; when I am happy, when I am discouraged, when you make me angry or when I see progress and hope. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. But I plan to pay more attention to my life. I plan to start where I am and own my stories. I plan to show up.
