One 'Starfish' at a Time

All week I’ve been thinking about the starfish story. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the story goes like this: One day a man was walking along the beach littered with starfish, also called sea stars. He noticed a girl picking them up gently throwing them back into the ocean. Approaching the girl, he asked, “What are you doing?” She replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”

The man said, “Don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!” After listening politely, the girl bent down, picked up another sea star and threw it back into the ocean. Smiling at the man she said, “I made a difference for that one.”

I love this story because it’s the reminder you don’t have to save all the sea stars, or all the people, or all the animals, or all the whatever. Even one life matters. It’s hard for me to remember that because instead I think of quantity. Quantity is what’s encouraged in our capitalistic culture. “How many views did that blogpost get?” “How many followers do you have?” “How big is your email list?” We think in terms of quantity because quality is hard to, well, quantify. How do you measure if listening to a song brought a person to tears? Or reading a book changed someone’s life? You can’t really. We try by saying, “Well, it was popular. It went viral,” but lots of things go viral.

Photo by Pedro Lastra on Unsplash

A compilation video of cats freaking out when they see cucumbers has gone viral – 24 million views and counting – but has anyone’s life changed as a result? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with cat videos, I’m merely pointing out whether something is viral is not a good measure of its quality. I have to keep reminding myself of this because otherwise I get too fixated on the end result. I start thinking about all the sea stars littered across the beach instead of the one in front of me, so to speak. And the one in front of me matters. It matters because every life is precious and also because every person cares about what happens in their life. We are all a little self-centered, in a good way.

What I have to keep coming back to is why am I even writing in the first place? Sometimes I write just for me. But the writing I make available for public consumption is for me and for others. My spiritual teacher said:

“In every expression, in every stratum of this universe, however crude or subtle, only one refrain prevails, and that refrain is the attainment of bliss. In that artistic movement toward welfare both the attainment and the bestowal of happiness find simultaneous expression. When litterateurs dedicate themselves to the service or practice of literature, they have to let their creative genius flow in this very current: They have to cleanse all that is turbid, all that is inauspicious in individual life in the holy waters of their universal mentality, and then convey it sweetly and gracefully into the heart of humanity.”

When I write the things that matter to me, I’m trying to touch the heart of humanity. I’m trying to share my experience, strength, hope, and perspective in an effort to let people know they’re not alone. Or to get them to entertain a new perspective. Or open their hearts a little more. When I lose sight of my intention, that’s when I start thinking it only matters if I hit a certain threshold of popularity. But it doesn’t. Because like the girl throwing sea stars back into the ocean, I may not be making a difference for a million people, but I’m making a difference for at least one. And that’s something.

I dream of a world where we remember quantity isn’t everything. A world where we remember quality counts. A world where we keep in mind our intentions. A world where we stay close to the “why” of our actions and use that as motivation to propel us forward.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Creative Envy

This past week was stressful and exhausting. I didn't have the energy to write a new post, but when I searched for one to share again, this one from December 2017 came to mind. Enjoy.

I envy other people's success. Not in a mean or spiteful way – I don't begrudge people their accolades, I think they deserve them – rather a part of me burns with yearning to have what they have. I've tried all the things I can think of to deal with envy – feeling it fully, using it as fuel for my own work, seeing it as an example of what's possible, etc., but nothing has made a lasting difference.

This week the green-eyed monster struck again and I sincerely asked the universe for help. I don't like feeling envious, it's not something I enjoy, or how I'd like to respond to the success of others. The universe stepped in, as it always does, and I contemplated a prayer I say every morning. Specifically, that I act as an instrument for my higher power, that I may be of service to others, and that I'd like to be used as my higher power sees fit. This week it occurred to me my creative endeavors also apply.

Photo by russn_fckr on Unsplash. 

On some level I already know this and it's the main reason I have this blog, to use my words in service of others. I already believe my role as an artist is to establish a link between the finite and infinite, the mundane and the transcendental. In terms of creativity, it means I'm working with something more than me. Talk to any artist and they'll tell you at some time or another it felt like they were channeling something, that something moved through them. Indeed, Elizabeth Gilbert has a mega-popular video on creativity saying exactly that. If that's true, and I believe it is, it means I'm an instrument for my higher power. I'm the violin, not the violinist.

When I look at envy from this perspective, it means I'm not to blame for any success or failure. I'm the violin, I'm not in control of the music the violinist plays, nor am I in control of how well the music is received. I don't know why certain things are popular and others languish in obscurity, but also I don't know the mind of God. However, I've experienced enough synchronicity in my life to know I am a piece on God's chessboard, that there is a greater intelligence at work. That means art too. It means perhaps certain things I write are supposed to reach a small number of people, and that's it. I want to write a wildly popular book that lands me on the New York Times bestseller list, a segment with Oprah, and a prestigious award, but maybe every book has its own purpose and trajectory, and sometimes that means only six people will read it.

Envy pops up when my ego has gotten the best of me and I start thinking about my plans instead of the universe's plans. Envy pops up when I think of myself as the violinist, not the violin. I have to take certain actions, I have to keep my instrument clean and my strings taut, so to speak, but the rest? It's not up to me. Almost every successful person talks about a “lucky break,” being in the right place at the right time. I don't think it's luck, I think it's grace, and that's something I can't manufacture no matter how hard I try. Nor am I supposed to. I'm the violin, allowing myself to be played, not the violinist.

I dream of a world where we realize we are not solely responsible for our creative successes or failures. A world where we recognize we are instruments for something greater than ourselves. A world where we take our egos out of the equation and merely allow ourselves to be played.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Envy, Success, and Creativity

I envy other people's success. Not in a mean or spiteful way – I don't begrudge people their accolades, I think they deserve them – rather a part of me burns with yearning to have what they have. I've tried all the things I can think of to deal with envy – feeling it fully, using it as fuel for my own work, seeing it as an example of what's possible, etc., but nothing has made a lasting difference.

This week the green-eyed monster struck again and I sincerely asked the universe for help. I don't like feeling envious, it's not something I enjoy, or how I'd like to respond to the success of others. The universe stepped in, as it always does, and I contemplated a prayer I say every morning. Specifically, that I act as an instrument for my higher power, that I may be of service to others, and that I'd like to be used as my higher power sees fit. This week it occurred to me my creative endeavors also apply.

We are all creative. Photo by david clode on Unsplash.

On some level I already know this and it's the main reason I have this blog, to use my words in service of others. I already believe my role as an artist is to establish a link between the finite and infinite, the mundane and the transcendental. In terms of creativity, it means I'm working with something more than me. Talk to any artist and they'll tell you at some time or another it felt like they were channeling something, that something moved through them. Indeed, Elizabeth Gilbert has a mega-popular video on creativity saying exactly that. If that's true, and I believe it is, it means I'm an instrument for my higher power. I'm the violin, not the violinist.

When I look at envy from this perspective, it means I'm not to blame for any success or failure. I'm the violin, I'm not in control of the music the violinist plays, nor am I in control of how well the music is received. I don't know why certain things are popular and others languish in obscurity, but also I don't know the mind of God. However, I've experienced enough synchronicity in my life to know I am a piece on God's chessboard, that there is a greater intelligence at work. That means art too. It means perhaps certain things I write are supposed to reach a small number of people, and that's it. I want to write a wildly popular book that lands me on the New York Times bestseller list, a segment with Oprah, and a prestigious award, but maybe every book has its own purpose and trajectory, and sometimes that means only six people will read it.

Envy pops up when my ego has gotten the best of me and I start thinking about my plans instead of the universe's plans. Envy pops up when I think of myself as the violinist, not the violin. I have to take certain actions, I have to keep my instrument clean and my strings taut, so to speak, but the rest? It's not up to me. Almost every successful person talks about a “lucky break,” being in the right place at the right time. I don't think it's luck, I think it's grace, and that's something I can't manufacture no matter how hard I try. Nor am I supposed to. I'm the violin, allowing myself to be played, not the violinist.

I dream of a world where we realize we are not solely responsible for our creative successes or failures. A world where we recognize we are instruments for something greater than ourselves. A world where we take our egos out of the equation and merely allow ourselves to be played.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Become a Gift

When I was 20, I studied abroad in London. I interned with a publication that encouraged me to plagiarize. As you can imagine, it wasn't a good fit. I was miserable and tried everything I could to get out of it – even going so far as lining up another internship, but the study abroad program said no. I still don't know why. My parents got involved too and that also yielded nothing. It was the first time in my life that I couldn't make my circumstances better. The first time I had to wait out a crappy situation. It was the first time I experienced a taste of authoritarianism and I hated it. The unfairness of it all outraged me.

The other day I watched a movie, Desert Dancer, and was reminded again, authoritarian regimes continue to exist. Except other people have it far worse. The movie takes place in Iran in 2009 where dancing is forbidden. I know, that's also the theme of Footloose, but Desert Dancer is no sappy comedy, it's real life. People are literally beaten and killed for expressing themselves artistically. As an artist myself, I'm horrified. Living in the U.S., I forget there are places in the world where legitimate authoritarian regimes exist. Where other people are not nearly as privileged as I am.

Become a gift.

After my experience in London, I was able to come back to my normal life, to one of privilege and relative ease. But the people in Iran? Or Syria? Or some other country that barely registers in my brain? They are not so lucky.

It is easy for someone like me, a college-educated white woman living in the U.S., to do one of two things: feel guilty for my privilege, or forget other people exist. In conversations with other white people, I see so often we wring our hands and say we feel badly about the things other people have to endure, but what can we do? Or we feel guilty our lives are different because of our privilege. We carry around our white guilt like a suitcase at airport security, always ready to show it to someone else for inspection.

I also see that we forget. We forget other people exist except when a horrific tragedy jerks us from our daily lives. We go about our days wondering if that guy will call or the raise will come through. We get caught up in our own worlds. I'm not saying that's entirely a bad thing – we must take care of ourselves – but we must also take care of others.

Friends, I don't want my two options as a person of privilege to be white guilt or amnesia. Neither of those options does anyone any good. I would much rather use my skills to make the world a better place. As a journalist, that means giving a voice to the voiceless. It means telling someone else's story and broadcasting it far and wide. For you, it may mean healing the sick or planting a community garden. We all have gifts and talents. There's a quote by Hans Urs von Balthasar that sums this up nicely I think. He said, “What you are is God's gift to you, what you become is your gift to God.” May we all become gifts not only to God, but to the rest of humanity.

I dream of a world where we use our talents in service of others. A world where we remember other people exist and we do our best to make the world a better place for everyone. A world where we all become gifts.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

What's the Rush?

I am an impatient person. Almost nothing happens fast enough for me. I want things yesterday. Wait for something? No thanks. This is an attitude supported by our society, in my opinion. There's an underlying belief if something isn't happening on our timeline we need to move on. I notice in myself and others we don't want to wait – we want things to happen instantaneously.

I reflected on this during my meditation the other day and what bubbled up is, “What's the rush?” What's the rush indeed. Why am I in such a hurry to get where I'm going? Can I let things unfold naturally, and slowly?

My spiritual teacher says, “Suppose, immediately after planting some saplings and seeds, someone digs them up to find out if they have taken root or sprouted. That would not be considered wise.” He also says, “Each action has an equal and opposite reaction provided the three relative factors of time, space, and person remain unchanged. Whatever you do is an actional expression determined by your past actions. Your actions will certainly have reactions, but you may have to wait some time for their expression.”

Can we wait for flowers to bloom?

Again with the waiting. We all know patience is a virtue and things get better with time, like wine and cheese, but I don't consume either of those things so I don't connect with that comparison. What helps me is I think of my mother. My mom graduated from medical school when she was 64. That in itself is inspiring, but particularly what I think of is how she opened her own medical practice. In the first year, she barely made anything, she hardly saw any patients. It would have been very easy for her to say, “Oh well, not happening fast enough, time to move on to the next thing.” Instead, she stuck with it. It's been a couple of years, but she reached a point where she needs to hire someone a few hours a week to help out around her office. It didn't happen quickly, but she's finally seeing results.

That also reminds me of a podcast I listened to the other day on fear and creativity by Elizabeth Gilbert. One of her guests was comedian Michael Ian Black who said persistence is the most underrated quality a creative can have and talent is the most overrated. That concept stuck with me like a burr because it says to me if I persist, I can be successful. If I keep putting in the work, eventually it will bear fruit. The timeline is not up to me, but the work sure is.

I'm not saying stick with something if it makes a person miserable. But maybe we're giving up on things too soon? Maybe if we had a little patience we'd see the results we're after? There are no hard and fast rules on this unfortunately, but for me, erring on the patient side often seems more beneficial than the action side. Maybe that's true for others as well.

I dream of a world where we are a little more patient to see results. A world where we're a little more patient with ourselves and each other, understanding not everything can be hurried. A world where we ask ourselves, “What's the rush?” and realize often there isn't one.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Fame versus Significance

I want to make an impact in the world. I want to use my gifts in the service of others. In my mind, if I'm not famous, if I don't have 10 million Youtube followers, then I'm not making a difference. I'm conflating fame with significance. How could I not? When a simple tweet from a celebrity can launch someone's career or shine the spotlight on an important issue, of course I'm under the impression fame and significance are linked.

I realize a person doesn't have to be famous in order to make a difference – there are many teachers, activists, doctors, etc. who do great work in the world and no one knows their name, but the thing is, I'm not a teacher, activist, or doctor. I'm a writer. And in my world, if people aren't reading what I'm writing, then I might as well launch my posts into a black hole for all the good they're doing.

The epicenter of fame.

I talked about this with my dear writer friend Amal, who doesn't have this issue. He reminded me about Herman Melville, who was never a financially successful writer, by the way, even though we have all heard of his book Moby-Dick. Did you know Moby-Dick was a commercial failure and published to mixed reviews? And also that it wasn't until the late 1910s, early 1920s, which is almost 20 years after his death, that people started to talk about him? Moby-Dick was written more than 150 years ago and we're still studying it in school! Talk about significant.

I'm not saying I'm Herman Melville because I'm not, but what I'm coming to understand more deeply is the notion of artists as pioneers, something my spiritual teacher propounds. What does that mean, to be a pioneer? It means often a person won't be appreciated in their time, that they're on the forefront of society, staking out new territory to pave the way for future generations. What this means is just because a person isn't recognized, isn't popular or famous, doesn't mean they're not doing good work.

That sounds obvious I know, but right now our society places so much emphasis on social capital. “How many Twitter followers do you have? Who regramed you Instagram? Did anyone share your Facebook post?” Right now it seems easy to become famous from your living room and when 1.4 million people like a Facebook post, they turn into an important person, at least in my mind. But will any of them be remembered in 150 years? Will I?

The ultimate point I'm making in a roundabout way, is it's not my job to worry about fame. Fame doesn't necessarily mean a person is making a difference, it just means people are paying attention to them. It's my job as an artist and writer to keep being a pioneer, to keep transmitting messages and inspiration that I receive, and to surrender the fruits of my labor. It's not my job to attract Facebook followers or to cultivate a name for myself. It's my job to use my gifts regardless of how much attention I receive. And not just my job, everyone's job. We are all special and unique human beings who may never get the recognition we crave, but that doesn't mean what we're doing isn't worthwhile or that it's insignificant.

I dream of a world where we understand fame doesn't necessarily translate into significance. A world where we realize we have no idea what the future holds or what the fruits of our actions will be. A world where we keep doing the work required of us, letting go of the outcomes.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Creating a World We Wish to See

After writing my post last week, "The Role of the Artist (and Writer)," I was inspired to do something. Why not create a world where artists and writers are supported for the work they do? To that end, I started a Patreon campaign. I created a video to explain a little more:

If you're more of a reader, a Patreon campaign is kind of like kickstarter, but instead of raising money for one big project, it's support on a continuous level. By contributing, you are not only supporting me, you are supporting you. You are supporting yourself because I do not create art for art's sake -- I create art for service and blessedness. I create to inspire, to encourage, and to uplift. Not myself, but you.

By contributing to my Patreon campaign you are valuing your own spiritual growth and progress because my job as an artist and writer is to bridge the finite and infinite, the mundane and the transcendental. By contributing to my Patreon campaign you are saying, "Yes, I want more of that. Yes, that's important to me."

The money itself doesn't matter so much. I mean, of course I could use a few extra dollars in my pocket, but mostly what's important to me is creating a world we wish to see. A world we want to live in. So often we lament the state of the world today and long for a better future. By contributing to my Patreon campaign, in a small way we can create a society that values and supports its artists. A world where artists are allowed to continue to create because they have the backing of their community.

I realize not everyone is flush with cash, and that's fine; there's no minimum to contribute -- even $3 a month would make a difference. And perhaps you know someone else who would also support this message and what we're trying to accomplish here. It is only together that we will create a world we wish to see.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

The Role of the Artist (and Writer)

On Wednesday, I had a full-on meltdown. I'm talking lying on the floor while tears streamed down my cheeks. What precipitated the meltdown was feeling like I'm not fully utilizing my talents, and at the same time unclear what precisely that means. What am I doing with my life and how can I make money doing what I love? Add in a dose of doubt that my dreams are even possible, and you have a synthesis of my breakdown.

I think primarily I'm struggling against making art and making money. The age-old conundrum. My spiritual teacher says it's the duty of society to support its artists because artists are pioneers. “If those who are the pioneers of society ... if they are forced to starve or half-starve, this will certainly not be to the credit of human society. It is unthinkable that these creative geniuses should curse their own fate.”

Artists and writers have an important role to play.

What I love is that my spiritual teacher values artists. He calls us pioneers because, and this is important, he is against art for art's sake and rather sees artists as accomplishing something greater than that. I think there's a time and a place for art for art's sake. For instance, sometimes I draw pictures because I need a nonverbal way of expressing myself. But I also think there's a difference between creative expression and art for public consumption. The slogan my teacher advocates for instead is art for service and blessedness.

My spiritual guide is primarily concerned with spiritual growth and he sees art as one mechanism for aiding that growth. He says literature in particular is “that which moves together with the society, which leads society towards true fulfillment and welfare by providing the inspiration for service.” Art is not just about showcasing what's inside my own head, but a way to spur people forward, to inspire, to encourage, and to hopefully put people in touch with something greater than themselves.

In a sort of call to arms he writes, “People seek deliverance from the whirlpools of darkness; they aspire to illuminate their lives and minds with ever-new light. In all their actions, in all their feelings, there is an inherent tendency to move forward; therefore, if at all they are to be offered something, the creator of art cannot remain idle or inert.”

I could go on, indeed, there are 37 other pages I could quote, but I guess what I'm saying here is even if I never write a bestselling book, even if I never have 10,000 followers, I have an important role to play. I am here to link the finite and the infinite, the mundane and the transcendental because that is my role as an artist.

I dream of a world where artists are treasured. A world where they practice art for service and blessedness because they're not constantly concerned about how to keep the lights on. A world where artists are allowed to fulfill the role they are meant to, which is to link the finite and the infinite, the mundane and the transcendental.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Creative Passions

This week I was in Boston for my sister’s graduation. The commencement speaker was Richard LaGravenese, an Oscar-nominated writer and director. He was funny and self-deprecating and inspirational. I highly encourage you to watch the whole speech and don’t be intimidated by the time count, it flies by, I promise.

What I really love about his speech is he spoke several truths. “You won’t change the world but you will change your world.” Yes. How right is that? Each of us live in our bubbles that sometimes intersect with others, but for the most part we are in our own self-contained universe, which is why the law of attraction and manifestation is so powerful. What we put out in the world comes back to us. So yes, we will change our own worlds, several times in fact.

And here is a man who barely eeked by as an actor who followed his internal guidance. The nudge that kept pushing him to be a writer instead. And success followed him. Fame, critical acclaim, money. He trusted his gut and went after it. I can think of no more inspirational feat than that. A person who has a dream and chases it, not letting any obstacle deter them for long. And what’s so inspirational to me is that he achieved his dream. It may not be what he started off with, but it shows me how true my favorite expression, “Your wildest dreams are ant-sized compared to what lay ahead,” is. He never imagined his life would end up the way it did and in fact he says it’s better. Yes. Here is someone who models that, who reminds me the same can be true for me. Who shows me I too can chase after what I want and I may be surprised by what I get. He reminds me anything is possible and amazing things happen in the world. That not everyone is born to be a dancer or a singer, but that doesn’t mean they have to settle for second best, because perhaps they’re being pushed in a different direction. And that intuitional feeling, that gut, as he calls it, is never wrong. This too is where honesty comes in.

I think it’s important to chase our dreams yes, but also to be honest with ourselves and to look at our motivations. I think about all those contestants on American Idol who are convinced they are the best singers ever and I have to wonder, what is their motivation? Do they want to be on Idol to become famous, or because they love singing and moving people with music? If it’s the former then yeah, perhaps being a singer is not their path in life. Success follows talent it seems and not everyone can be talented in the way they want, no matter how hard they try. A teeny part of me would love to be a model because I enjoy being photographed but the brutal honesty is that I don’t have the body for it and even if I starved myself I’d never be tall enough. Them’s the breaks sometimes, but that doesn’t mean my life will be unfulfilling.

I dream of a world where more people are like Richard LaGravenese. Where people are their authentic, original selves. A world where people seek to express themselves rather than court the marketplace. A world where people have drive and ambition and create for the sake of creating. A world where people take risks even if they’re afraid to fail. A world where people focus on their own paths. A world where people follow their hearts and watch the magic of their lives unfold.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.