I woke up just a short time ago with a powerful feeling of self doubt. The accompanying familiar feeling of criticism and analysis arrived quickly on its tails. That gave way to a knee-jerk response to fill my head with thoughts about unrelated crap. Simultaneously I am illustrating examples of the things that I did yesterday that reinforce this self misperception. I am building the case that, in fact, in the face of all this inquiry and curiosity and embodiment and practice, I do suck after all.

It’s been a long time since I have slipped into this old state of devaluation. It’s a nasty limbo of unfair and unrealistic comparisons combined with embarrassment and shame that create a cloud of trepidation that requires an armoring and defensiveness that usually leads to a strong stuffing of emotions and resentful stiffening of an upper lip. Then my day is spent with my fists balled ready to fight: usually I just swing punches at myself.

This is a crappy way to wake up, and a worse way to go out into the day.

I’d like this morning to subvert that chain of events. The self loathing and anger is familiar, not inevitable. This morning shall be about setting some different intentions for myself in the face of these old fears.

The familiar soursweet glass of lemon water will set the tone that today is about nourishment and growth. A long hot shower will provide a moment to pause and collect myself while I wash away the grime of defensiveness and judgment and expose fresh clean skin to a day of excitement and inquiry. I’ll be sure to leave the chainmail in the sock drawer as I dress for a day free to share my vulnerabilities and support the accompanying moments of doubt. What color socks are best matched with tenderness? That will be followed by Q-tips to clean out the angry voices in my head and make room to listen with a clear passage to my heart. The toothpaste today will not only polish and whiten, but shall prepare my mouth to speak not quickly but carefully and full of attention. I’ll slip on some shoes that will aid my nimble footed dance in the world and head out the door.

Today is a day for curiosity and exploration. Something tripped a nerve this morning. I’m close to something fragile and tender, and just a half a step beyond that is a threshold that I have been waiting to cross. Instead of slamming the door in my face, like I have grown accustomed to, today I’ll lean into this edge and maybe even pass through. I hope I’ll see some of you on the other side.

Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit it’s April 1^st!

Standing on this promontory arrived at after the last month’s writing practice, I feel a sense of satisfaction. I’m not satisfied that I am complete, however. With continued curiosity, but also a little trepidation, I realize that the natural outcome of a practice like this one is no outcome at all, it’s a call to continue in some way.

No, It’s not an April fools prank, I am going to keep writing. I would like to change the orientation a bit, however. The premise remains the same, showing up daily. I will continue to explore the inherited streams of my past and the emergent qualities of my artistry. I would like to add a bit of focus to this month’s inquiry and I have a request from you all, dear readers.

This month I am going to hold the intention to explore my relationship to my vocational identity. Vulnerability is not a discarded concept. For me, one of the greatest, and most challenging, places for me to be more vulnerable is in the conversation about how I would like to marry my gifts to my work. I will be working a tender edge of my becoming in this conversation.

I have had a fluid relationship with work. Fluid may even be too structured of a word. I have been involved in so many different kinds of projects with different kinds of people over my life. When I think about my resume, the operative language at this point is, “breadth over depth”. For many years now I have used that description as a detractor, a negative judgment. When I am forced to talk about my work, which right there you can see my own personal resistance in using the word “forced”, I deflect and diminish and justify and sometimes even deceive because it is painful to talk about.

The pain is that I don’t feel a sense of pride and excitement discussing the things I’ve done vocationally because I haven’t allowed the time or the attention to make the connections between what seem like disconnected projects. I have been desperately seeking what I have been calling the “red thread” that connects them all. The set of skills or intentions or aspirations that sew these seeming disparate scenes in my work history together.

My first request is to tug at the threads gently. This is meant for me more than any of you reading this. I am wading into some murky waters that conjure up a lot of demons. I will endeavor to stay aware of what is emerging and give myself the kindness of attention to it, not distraction from it.

My request to you all is one of insight. I would would welcome any ideas and thoughts that emerge from your reading along this next month. Would you be willing, from time to time, to take a moment to share from your own vocational legacies anything that may be triggered by my inquiry into mine?