It’s been a bit since I’ve written and it’s because I’m frustrated. I have feelings and I follow them but I don’t understand the why. I want to know the why.
Why am I painting? Why am I teaching yoga? Why do people ask me questions as if I know the answers? Why do people sign up for my workshops?
I don’t know. I feel like I’m supposed to have answers but I don’t. I am not special. I don’t know anything that you don’t know.
Artists are supposed to have statements that ruminate on the meanings of their paintings, explaining the choices of their colors and the intention behind the work. My artist statement is: I DON’T KNOW. I don’t know why I wanted to paint that flower there. I don’t know why this one looks dark and eery and that one looks bright. I don’t know what motivated me to pick those colors except that I did and I liked it so I kept it.
And the biggest question of all, the biggest I don’t know that’s looming out there – what am I supposed to be doing??? I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T FUCKING KNOW. (Apologizes for the swear words but they come sometimes and I DON’T FUCKING KNOW WHY.)
In November I participated in the first of three modules with my favorite international yoga teacher, Max Strom. Nine days of 9-5:30 training. It was great, I learned a lot, yada yada yada. Nevermind I already have a 200 hour certification; but I felt like I had to do it again with Max. Why? I don’t know.
On day 8 or so, he called me up to the front of the room. He asked me to corral the masses and instruct them to rearrange their mats. Why? I don’t know. He had done this to no one before. And all of a sudden, I was in charge. I hardly even knew I was visible. I stayed toward a corner towards the back. I tried to stay out of sight and just absorb. But apparently I was visible enough.
At the end of the training, I thanked him, gave him a short explanation of how I ended up at this training and how I’m grateful to be here. He told me that I would see remarkable change by the end of the three modules. “You’re a leader,” he said. “I don’t know that you see that yet, but that’s how I see you.”
For the past several weeks this has been ruminating in my mind. And I’ve been everything from grateful for receiving the praise to downright angry. What sort of psychological experiment is this anyway? I am no one special. I am just a regular person. I don’t know anything more than the next person, and I have no more potential than the guy next to me. I AM NOT SPECIAL. I am not a leader. I am not I am not I am not!
But then situations would pop up in my mind. Like, why, in high school, was I invited to hang out with the “cool kids” in their monthly excursion, despite the fact that I was not really part of their tribe? Why did I win prom queen if I stayed hidden in the shadows? Why did I feel like I would one day be famous when I was five (and still harbor those strange feelings)? Why do people sign up for my workshops? Why do people with whom I don’t talk regularly message me and ask for advice? Why do people read my blog or friend me on facebook?
But really, I mean, can’t you find reasons for anything if you’re looking for them? I’ve always thought weird connections and serendipitous events were kind of bullshit, to be honest. Like you think of someone and then they call you the next day. Sure, it’s pretty fucking weird, but if they didn’t call you would wouldn’t have even remembered that you thought of them. So aren’t we just forming connections where maybe there’s no actual connections? WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP PSYCHOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT AM I A PART OF ANYWAY?
I mean, truly, I know that this is not a scientific experiment. I am not a crazy person. I have a pretty good grasp on reality, at least most days. I think anyway. What is reality except to the person in question anyway? And to be part of a psychological experiment, YOU MUST BE SPECIAL. And let me reiterate: I.AM.NOT.SPECIAL. I am REGULAR. I AM A FUCKING AVERAGE JOANN.
I can’t work miracles. I don’t have answers. All I have is curiosity and a relentless search for answers. All I have is exploration and a really fucking windy path behind me that could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. All I have is what I know, and if I’m being real honest that’s not whole lot. (And yes, I know that “real honest” is bad English but I chose to use it to reiterate that I AM NOT SPECIAL OR SMART OR ANYTHING THAT YOU THINK I AM. I am REGULAR.)
Anyway, I hope whoever is in charge of this whole life thing is getting a kick out of my anger in my search for my path. It feels like this is correct, that this is what I should be doing, but it pisses me off anyway. Why can’t someone just walk up to me one day and say, “Hey Amy, I KNOW GOD AND THIS IS THE ANSWER YOU’RE LOOKING FOR. JUST DO X Y AND Z AND YOU’LL FULFILL YOU’RE LIFE’S PURPOSE.” Maybe one day. Until then, I’ll probably fuck all sorts of shit up. Sorry God.