The Biggest Lie
It turns my guts to water. My stomach into a migration of butterflies and my legs to jelly.
Still. Despite everything I have done. And know. And written about. Still, I believe it deeply.
“What cunning lie can this be that can bamboozle a maiden as fine and fair as thou?” you enquire.
Well forsooth, I believed that there was a right answer.
To… I don’t know, let’s just, for the sake of arguments say interviews. Or paintings.
That there was the possibility of getting it wrong.
And therefore that I could muck up. I could ruin it.
And therefore I needed to be scared. To hold back. To worry. To be careful. To plan. A lot. In my head. Until I felt I might explode.
This is the lie – that there is a right way. A right answer. A perfect Platonic form, hanging in the ether. And if we do not fulfil this invisible blue print, then shame, failure, doom, oblivion, blood, death, and lots of hairy legged spiders which will eat you alive as you sleep.
But it’s a lie. Truly.
I can’t. You can’t ever get it wrong. It is simply impossible. Because there is no right. Only what you do, what you say.
This is not annoying post-modern relativism. It is truth.
What should be the most freeing part of creativity – the wide open ocean of infinite potential and possibility which stands wet and waiting for us – tends to scare us shitless. And we shake, and cry and shut down and run away, or define what success looks like in black and white rather than the myriad rainbow of colours available to us.
Blockages come always, always when you believe your own bullshit. When you believe that you are the source and that you can dry up, or fail. That you need to know all the answers. That people are expecting you to be an expert, to be perfect.
You are not. And you know it.
So just turn up, and open up.
And then watch as the magic unfolds, as even though you don’t know what to say or how to express something.
Just turn up, and open up.
Stop being clever, being in control, having the answers. Be humble and play follow the leader with creativity/ flow/ consciousness/ spirit/ your unconscious/ higher self/ god, whatever you want to call it…
But show up and start.
So you see, as I just did, after I had gotten my knickers in a knot and thought I didn’t have anything of value to say. And that I’d forgotten to paint… again. There is no right. Or wrong. It’s like a spiritual alkaseltzer. My stomach has settled and the shaking has stopped. It can only be. So you might as well show up!