Hello beautiful human,
When I lead a workshop or teach a writing class, we often start out with an icebreaker or two. Sometimes it’s as simple as “what’s your name, where are you traveling from to get here today, and what is one thing that might surprise us about you?” Sometimes it’s Two Truths and a Lie. Either leads to surprises, stories, and the remembering that we are all more than we seem on the surface.
I used to feel like there wasn’t much surprising about me. Maybe I was just a very boring person. I was a wysiwyg poster child. Slightly woo woman poet? Think of all the images and stereotypes and probably there I was, or close enough. I even wore the dangly earrings and flowy skirts.
Probably I still am that person more or less. But I will share with you something you don’t know about me I bet: I watch Formula One.
Of course I didn’t come to this on my own. My partner introduced me to the sport. It won’t surprise you that what this slightly woo woman poet doesn’t know about engines and cars fills a library of books and sponsors numerous youtube channels. But behind the car is a driver and behind the driver is a whole team and where there are people there are stories. That’s what keeps me tuned in.
That, and the crashes.
That’s funny to write but it’s not true. If I wanted to see crashes I would watch demolition derbies. Crashes galore! And not my taste at all.
And still, what is it about the crashes? Are we all just ghoulish in our desire to see someone or something get hurt? I don’t think so…I want to see the drivers walk away unharmed if maybe shaken.
In F1 races, it’s the accidents that remind us that we are watching an elite group of humans perform at the very top of their talents. They are pushing to the razor edge, a high-speed combination of human and technology where the boundaries blur, a big dollar dance that keeps stretching and growing to expand what we think is possible. There’s a lot of money and a lot of ego, but also passion, vision and life-long dedication. These drivers have been in motorsports since they were kids driving go karts around tracks on the weekends.
We’re a species that enjoys challenge and play and performance. We enjoy seeing, hearing and applauding the best do what they do. We like to see people playing, singing, dancing, driving or leaping at the very edge, pushing as hard as they can, and the crashes remind us that’s what we’re watching. In real time.
I’ve crashed a time or two myself. Not on a racetrack—I think I’m going fast when the needle hits 75 mph on the highway. I’m no adrenaline junkie. And I used to think because I would never go near a bungee cord or parachute that I was afraid of risk. Now I know that’s not true.
My field of risk is creative writing, personal expression, growth and development, authentic life…maybe we don’t have the language yet for the fields I play in or maybe happiness is a simpler word. I’ve always believed that we get one chance at this life, and we’re not here to follow someone else’s path or program. Make waves. Go off track. Stretch.
Going off the beaten path is not without risk. I crashed where others stayed comfortable. I found myself in a new town, new house, new job. But just like those drivers who get back behind the wheel and onto the track, here I am, after the crashes, showing up and remembering how to put a sentence together. Getting the poetry binder set up. Beginning to remember how to tell a story and how to dig for the stories to tell. And once again starting to work with others, reading their words, helping them with their poems and paragraphs, and helping them to be brave. I’m even hosting a couple of creative playdates coming up, just private things with friends, and still. The house is doing what it was meant to do. And so is the woman.
Artists are brave because art doesn’t lie. It can’t. Our brushstrokes, the rhythm of our sentences, the way our bodies hold a pose…all of these as intimate and unique and revelatory as a thumbprint or scar.
A few years ago my mother gave me a small silver ornament that features a flourishing tree in full leaf and the words “Whatever you are, be a good one.” It’s both encouragement and maybe a humorous reminder that even the people closest to me have no idea what I’m trying to do. Some days I don’t know either. I just keep following the scroll of words across the page and screen, and feeling for the fresh air that tells me, this is the way towards freedom. But I can tell you one thing that I have proven to myself and others many times over: I may make a fool of myself, I may get hurt, but I’m not afraid to get up and keep trying.
And if my words or my example resonate for anyone, or maybe even for you, that is enough for me.
Your time and attention are the true gifts. Thank you. xoS
The Gallery
As gratitude, I always share a few “good goodies,” a gallery of Small Brave Things I’ve come across: photos, art or quotes, links, and a peek or two behind the scenes for my paid subscribers.
Today, Patsy Cline, that ornament, a sweet memory from vacation, and a courageous invitation.
Thank you for supporting one woman’s explorations, reveries and recoveries. You have my heart.
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