The Best Advice I've Ever Given

A few years ago, I went into a gas station in my hometown to buy cigarettes. The cashier was a friend of mine and he knew about my inspirational writing and the kind of "out of the norm" life I live. Outside the gas station sat a girl, all knees and elbows, around 15 years of age.

My friend said to me, "Would you sit and talk with her a bit? She's getting disheartened about her life." So I said, "Sure," and I went outside to talk to this girl.

I sat on the bench across from her, outside this run-down gas station and as I looked across the table, I saw myself looking back at me. Large brown eyes that shone both hope and despair. Long brown hair, brushed but not styled. And I thought back to myself at her age.

Given all the years and experiences that separated the 15-year-old Bri and the 27-year-old Bri, what would I say to my past self, if I was given the opportunity? In the humid August evening, I spread out my long cotton skirt. I sat and talked to this girl who could have been me.

"This is the best advice I can think of to give you," I said. I took a long drag of my cigarette and exhaled it for dramatic emphasis. "I want you to go out into the world and fuck up."

This young girl's mouth dropped open. That was exactly the reaction I was looking for. I knew, at that moment, she was hearing me. I knew that I had just cut through all the walls that all 15-year-old girls put up between themselves and adults. With those two final little words, I had her.

"Let me explain," I said. "The best thing that can happen to you is for you to finish high school and go on to college. From there, I want you to go out and explore this world. I want you to talk to people that you think you have nothing in common with. Become friends with them. Go out and have adventures. Make mistakes. Make HUGE mistakes. Inconvenience everyone around you - friends, family, lovers. Because through your mistakes and your fuck-ups, you'll learn not only who you are, but who and what you really want to be."

I talked to this girl for almost two hours. I told her stories of my life. I listened to stories of hers. In the end, she went her way and I went mine. I haven't seen her, again.

But my advice stands. And it's the best advice I can give to anyone, really. Everything transformative that I've ever experienced and every great story that I recount at dinner parties? They often started out as really bad decisions.

"Hey! I'm going to hop into a car with 6 people I barely know and go camping 1,900 miles away. There'll be about 30,000 other people around in a state park - none of which have showered in 2 weeks. There won't be any toilets or cell phone reception, but I'm gonna come back with a puppy!"

"Hey! I'm going to go and dress up in Medieval garb. At 11:00 pm, somewhere in Pennsylvania with myself dressed like a hippy and my friend dressed like a Catholic priest, we're going to go get carryout beer from the only bar we can find. It happens to be a biker bar and the guy who's staying with the car? He'll be crocheting a scarf in the back seat!"

"Hey! I'm going to strap myself to a guy I don't know and jump out of a perfectly good airplane at 13,000 feet with nothing between myself and death but a thin sheet of nylon!"

See? Bad decisions.

But each and every one not only turned out for the best, but gave me an experience and memories I'll carry, forever. Essentially, each horrible decision and each fuck-up, they made me who I am, today. I am grateful for each and every time I made a mistake, each time that I stepped outside my comfort zone and each time that I said, "Well . . . why not?" Each time, adventure happened. And each time, I learned a little bit more about who I was, as a person.

During our daily routine, we get stuck. We begin to think that who we are during our routine life is who we really are, at our core. This is almost never the case.

Camping with 30,000 other people, I learned that I am not alone in my strangeness and that there are many different ways of existing in the world. Walking into a biker bar dressed in crazy costumes? I learned that I can be adaptive in awkward situations. Jumping out of a plane? I learned that I am strong, confidant, brave and that I can FLY!

And that's the truth. So I urge you all to take risks and make some bad decisions. I encourage you to fuck-up and fail and flounder and be confused. Stretch and do something you've never done before.

My comfort zone expanding as of late? I auditioned for a movie (which I didn't get), and I'm competing in a landscape art competition this weekend. I've never done A) an art competition or B) landscape painting, so I'm really psyched to be pushing my art envelope in this new way.

What are you doing to push your comfort zone? What do you find when you're outside of it? Let me know. I'd love to hear your stories!

Until next time, remember that every single one of us are visionaries. We just have to figure out where we excel.

Love to All,

-Bri


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Resistance and Spiritual Line Work

"All spiritual practice brings us face-to-face with our particular resistance. It's important to remember that resistance isn't what keeps us from our spiritual work. It is our spiritual work."
-Rabbi Avram Davis

This quote rang true for me in my reading, this week. It rang true to me, not only for spiritual work, but for creative work, as well.

I'm in the middle of doing a very large mixed media piece. It's 2 1/2 feet wide by 2 feet tall. All the detail work is very intricate and complex. It's Zendoodle and Zentangle plus some. And it's a very intimidating piece to work on.

Every day, I come to this piece and every day I meet resistance. I come to the paper and look over the work from yesterday. The resistance comes. "That section looks like you were just trying to fill space." "You didn't even try to make it pretty, there, did you?" "Why did you put that color there? It throws off the whole piece." "Wow! That's all the better you could do? I hope you're not planning on showing this to anyone. It's embarrassing."

Resistance. That voice in my head that tells me to stop doing art because I can't draw hands well. That voice that tells me that I'm no good at spelling and therefore I shouldn't write. Resistance comes from that voice in my head that tells me, no matter what, I will always fail. Every single one of us has that voice in our heads.

My art and my spirituality are fundamentally linked. To me, they're one in the same. I make art that reflects the spiritual beauty and oneness that I see in the world. My line-work shows the base intricacy of energy in the process of existence.

A very abstract concept, I know, but basically I try to represent my impressions of the energy of life in visual form.

Flower Line Work
8 1/2" by 11"
Mixed Media
Framed print - $19.99

Every time I approach the paper or the glowing computer screen, I meet resistance. The practice of making art is not the not-having of resistance in your mind. The practice of making art is hearing that resistance and not listening to it, not letting it stop you from making your art.

In this way, it could be said that the process of making art may be more of an accomplishment than the actual finished piece, itself. It takes great bravery to show up to the page, show up to the computer, show up to the wheel or the paints or the canvas and to push past your own demons of resistance. And I urge each and every single one of you to hear the resistance, but not let it rule you.

The process of making art can be just as great as the finished piece. Take joy in your practice and tell that inner resistance voice to shut the hell up!

As always, my lovelies, please remember that we are all visionaries. We just have to figure out where we excel!

Love to All,

-Bri

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Willing to Be Wrong

Sir Ken Robinson, author, TED speaker and advocate for creatives, told a story of a six year-old girl in school.

The girl was sitting in the back of the classroom drawing when the teacher walked back to her and asked “What are you drawing?” “I’m drawing a picture of God," she said. The teacher laughed said, “But nobody knows what God looks like.” And the little girl said “They will in a minute.”

With this tale, Sir Robinson is explaining to us that children aren’t afraid to take chances. If they don’t know something, they’ll risk failing or being wrong. Creativity, in and of itself, isn’t about being wrong, but to quote Sir Robinson: “If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original.”

Children who are still okay with being wrong are the most creative, you can see it by giving them crayons or blocks or paint. Without having much knowledge of the world, kids pour their creativity out in the form of play.

What can we big people learn from this?

My children have always been my best teachers. Through my time with my daughter, Pookie, I've reclaimed the joy of banging on pots with a wooden spoon and I've picked up blocks to build towers with.

Most often, we use our knowledge and life experiences to draw from in creating. Robert Epstein says, “Creativity, in short, is not something mystical; it’s an extension of what you already know. To be more specific, new behaviors (or ideas) emerge as old behaviors interact.”

 I used my art and writing as therapy for a long time. I processed my life experiences and let it all flow down onto the paper because I was denied access to actual therapy for various reasons.

Was everything that came out good? Oh, hell no! But Jack Smith said it best, "You have to be willing to be bad for 20 years in order to be great and, even then, there is no guarantee."

In my younger years, my writing was trite and shallow, but I did have moments of insight and profound wordsmithing. I did have art that was well-received enough to get me a solo gallery showing during my first semester of art school. I was okay with being horrible. I was okay with working for years without success, even though success did come. In this way, I was able to find my authentic voice and deepen my artistic vision. These things only come with time.

But what is the secret to being creative?

Steve Jobs, before his death, explained that “creativity is just connecting things.”

It’s a promoted idea that the best ideas flow from what we already know, like the river that originates from one spring. But what if we don’t know very much? What if we've never been creative in our life, yet have that deep urge to paint or sew or dance or act?

My advice is to watch children. What do children do if they don’t know something? They think about it and give it a whirl. They try. And they try without huge clouds of doubt and fear above their head.

If you go into a kindergarten classroom and ask, "Who can draw me a air plane?" Every single child raises their hand. Somewhere along the line, we are taught that not everyone can draw. Not everyone can write. Not everyone can run well or catch a ball. So, we sit on the sidelines while the star athlete catches the ball. We read and read and read, but never pick up the pen to write our own story.

I've never figured out why or how this process happens. All I know is that, somewhere, we learn that if you do something badly, you shouldn't do it at all. We're taught that making a mistake leads to mocking, to torment and to ostracism. It opens us up to hurtful criticism and social pitfalls. We think that being wrong makes us look like a newbie (which we often are at new things, but no one wants to be called that).

In Buddhism, they talk about approaching things with a beginner's mind. That means a fresh perspective. To approach something as if you've never done it before. From this mindset, new ideas emerge and innovations are spawned.

If you wanted to make yourself an outfit, but had no idea about what society says you should wear, how would you dress? I think fashion designers (especially the couture ones) think like this a lot. And it's awesome! It's new and exciting and spins our eyes and our thoughts in a whole new way.

My lovelies, this weekend, I want to encourage you to risk being wrong. I want you to do something you think you're bad at and try to be okay with it. If you're not "the best" at something, it's okay! It just means that you're learning and that is a very precious time.

My beautiful souls, I believe that we can release all these negative ideas about ourselves. So what if I can't shoot a three-pointer in basketball if my life depended on it. So what if, when I try to draw a shoe, it kinda looks like a space craft? Who says that there can't be a race of little alien toe people who just love flying around in their loafer-ship?

Mischievous toe-alien

Reach, my darlings. Stretch! Go beyond what you think you can do and be willing to be bad at it. It's only through being "bad" that we learn how to do the best that we can. No one expects you to come into this life, rip roaring and ready to paint The Sistine Chapel at 8 months old. We've all got to work at it and that's completely okay.


And please remember, my precious loves, we are all visionaries. We just have to figure out where we excel.

Until next time, love to all.

-Bri


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Levitate - Can You?

I found this video last week and I was amazed. Before I go on, I'll let you watch it.

The song is by a band named Hadouken and is called "Levitate." The lyrics are as follows:

Heart in my mouth, but my head in the clouds yeah
I can feel it rising
Bound to the Earth but, we could ascend yeah
I’m realizing
I feel both feet lift off the ground
I can levitate
With every truth that leaves I close my eyes
And levitate


Oh, my darlings. Where to start? Every time I see videos like this of my fellow humans reaching for the sky, I am inspired. Every time I hear a song that alludes to Universal Truth, I feel so grateful to be alive.

My dears, each of us can aspire to be the highest and best versions of ourselves possible. We can take up the mantle of our Spirit-given gifts and run with them. We can use them every day in this world to lift each other up, inspire each other, help each other.

The truth of it is that we can work together, if we can put all of our efforts into making this world beautiful and whole, we CAN levitate. We can raise each other up, higher and higher. By working together, can banish poverty and sickness and the hurt that lies in the hearts of our neighbors.

I may be an idealist. I may speak of something that is beyond what we think the people of this world are capable of doing, but I have hope. Even if it doesn't happen until I'm long, long dead, I believe that we can turn our lives around and shine forward our best faces for The Universe to see.

Be amazed, my lovelies. Be in awe. Be humbled by this world and all the people in it and give thanks that you are alive to see such wonders. The Babylonians couldn't even conceive of a thing like the internet, where we can talk to anyone, anywhere in the world at pretty much any time we desire. That we, through technology, have access to all the collective knowledge that man has amassed. How cool of a thought is that?

And we take it for granted.

I believe, dears, that we can levitate. More than levitate, I believe that we can fly past what we've ever thought possible. I think it's only a matter of time before every soul, everywhere sees it. I'm just the visionary.

For a long time in this life, I was angry. Sure, I was happy and sad and in awe, but beneath all those emotions at the core of me was anger. And I was angry at everything. I was angry with sexism and classism and racism and homophobia. I was angry that I had a traumatic childhood. I was angry that people around me teased me and found me to be "less than" them. I was angry that I'd been hurt and I was angry because, in my mind, I secretly felt that I deserved every single crap thing that happened to me . . .

I know. It's tough to admit. . .

I am different, now. Now, my underlying emotion is one of joy. Sure, I get sad and I get mad, but my "default setting," now, is joy. But my anger made me fierce. In my younger years, my anger galvanized me into someone who could look past all of the negative and see through to the light.

And, now, I can turn back and show everyone the path. Through my words and art, I can tell my story and illustrate to you that, if I've walked the path of coming through all the worlds' negativity, you can too. No matter your story, you can step beyond it into a life of pure, unbridled, down-to-the-tip-of-your-toes happy.

Right now, I'm levitating. But I can't do it alone. In order to truly fly, I need other to come to where I am. We all need each other. We are communal organisms. We thrive best, together.

I'm so happy that you are all coming with me on this journey of life. I feel blessed to be able to write to you.

Until next time, please remember that we are all visionaries. We just have to figure out where we excel.

Love to All,


-Bri


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Boundaries and the Sacredness of "No"

Throughout my life, I have had a problem with boundaries. For a long time, in my formative years, I was not allowed to have boundaries. I was not allowed to set parameters of what I would and would not accept as situations in my life. Even a boundary of, "When I'm in the shower, that is a time for privacy. Do not come in and talk to me while I"m naked," I was not allowed to have.

Secret thoughts written down in a journal? No. My journals were taken, read aloud, and I was made to pay a psychological and emotional toll for "thought crimes." Any possession that I had was subject to being taken from me on a whim. A pocket knife given to me by my father? Taken. Books of poetry that expressed any thought other than happiness and rainbows? Confiscated.

"Did you grow up in some sort of strange cult?" you might ask me. The answer is yes and no. This is one of the tolls on a person's mind and emotions when they're living with an abusive parent.

After I got out into the world and my life became my own, it took quite awhile for me to learn how to respond appropriately when my boundaries were crossed. It took therapy, medications, meditation and a lot of deep breathes to center myself when presented with conflict.

In the depths of being in this emotionally vulnerable state, I recall one such boundary breech situation where I did not respond well. Though I constantly strive for higher understanding and sharing of the force and experiences that unite us as people, I am human. And sometimes I miss the mark, make a mistake and don't respond as well as I could have.

In my hometown, there are no 24 hour coffee shops or diners. When I need to write, these are the places I prefer to go. From the age of 18 on, instead, I began to frequent a local bar. I would sit in a booth by myself with my books and my journals and I would drink coffee. Always coffee. And, since I got known for being very quiet and not causing trouble, I was allowed to stay in the bar past "all ages" time. I became so familiar there that they allowed me to get coffee refills, myself, whenever I wanted. The hours that I've spent in this bar have been great.

For years, I would venture out into the world, trying to find my place in it. But I would always come back to my bar. Employees came and went, but the new ones quickly learned who I was. Sometimes, I had no money and they let me drink coffee for free. If I had a dollar or two, I'd give it as a tip to the lovely bartenders who were always so kind to me. Over time, I got to know them and became their friend. Many a time, I counseled them through good times and bad, and I became known as the "bar therapist." If that bar is the hometown bar from the TV show Cheers, then I am the "Frasier" of The Inn.

Once, while at my bar, I left my journals and books on the table and I went to the bathroom. This was not uncommon. Every common patron of the establishment knows (at least) of me and, with it being such a small town, no one had ever bothered my things. 10 years I went to that bar doing the same thing and never once did I experience a problem. Until one day. (There's always an 'until' that comes after a 'never,' isn't there?)

On this particular day, I went to the bathroom, then stood at the bar chatting with the girls. When I returned to my table. I was horrified. The bar was mostly empty, yet there were two men sitting in my booth. It was obvious that they'd done so on purpose and, horror of horrors, one of them was flipping though and reading my journals.

When I saw this, I felt so violated. It's not that this man that I barely knew was reading my journals, he was peering into my mind. He was seeing into my heart and soul, deep thoughts I'd never uttered. And he was doing so without my permission. I instantly became panicked and afraid. I stormed up to the booth where the men sat and they looked up and me. I exploded at the man holding my journal.

"What are you doing!?!"

"Oh. We didn't know that this stuff was yours," he lied.

"Yes, you did! Everyone knows that I'm the only one that comes he with books and writes! Get out of my booth!!!"

"We can sit anywhere we want." The man's friend taunted me.

"Fine!" I yelled. "At least stand up and let me get my purse."

"No." The men refused to get up, so I did the only thing I could think of to do. I dropped down on the floor, crawled under the table and retrieved my purse. Then I stood up and took all the books and the journal off the table and out of their hands. Immediately, I bolted for the door and deposited the things in my car, which I locked.

I went back into the bar and told the bartenders what happened. I don't really know what I wanted them to do. I wanted the men kicked out, yelled at, arrested. Something! In my mind, you couldn't just violate a person's space like that and get away with it. Talking to the bartenders, it became clear that they, basically, couldn't do anything about what happened. Nor should they. It was not their wrong-doing or their fight and I knew it. I calmed down and went back to the table.

Going back to the one that had read my journal, I asked if I could speak to him outside. In the parking lot, I apologized for flying off the handle. Then I asked him why he got into my things. "I don't know," he said and I never got an explanation. But what happened next shocked me to my core.

"I read that thing about being a mountain. Did you write that?" Hesitantly, I replied that I had, knowing that he had stumbled upon a guided meditation I'd written for a friend. "I really liked that. The part about the goats? I didn't know anyone else thought like that. Sometimes, I go and sit and just watch the sun set, lying on the hood of my car. I didn't know anyone else thought stuff like that, at all."

Here he was, this man that had just pried into my inner world without my permission and he was standing there telling me that he didn't know that others in the world thought like he did. 'What a lonely life,' I thought.

"You liked it?" I asked, still hesitant. "Yeah," he said. I felt my shoulders relax and my anger subside. "Well," I said to him, "I'm glad. But you still shouldn't have gone through my stuff. That wasn't right." "I know," he replied, looking at the ground.

This man violated a boundary of mine. He invaded my personal things. He shouldn't have done that, but I did calm down, we did talk it out. I ended up giving him a connection in this world and he knew, finally, that he was not alone in his experiences.

Still, I continue to set boundaries and I continue to enforce them. These days, though, I try to be more understanding and more level-headed when they are breached. I, occasionally, even overstep someone else's boundaries; most of the time on accident. When it is brought to my knowledge that I've done so, I apologize.

I have always thought that saying "yes" to life was a sacred thing. It opens you to new experiences, new lessons and new levels of understanding. But, in this new Visionary Bri project, I have come to learn that saying "no" can be sacred, as well. When I say "no," I am not denying another person. Instead, I am standing up for and honoring my own integrity and self.

No, I cannot be your unpaid web developer.

I'm sorry, but I can't run your business for you.

No, you must make your own art, your own path, your own life. I will give you advice and help, but I can't do it for you.

Saying "no" allows each "yes" I say to be a full extension of my being. It means that I have committed to bring myself fully to the experience I am agreeing to without reservations. If faced with a choice, if it's not a 100% yes for me, then it's a no. And, once this is understood, people often take my "no's" a little easier because they understand that I can not be with them, fully, in the way they are asking.

But I am working on ways where I can say "yes" more often. I am receiving so many requests for help that I am coming up with a way to offer creative counseling sessions by the hour. This way I can say "yes, I can help you" and my needs can be met in that exchange of energy, as well.

Look for more new and exciting this coming up, here, in 2013. I will announce them when the time comes on this blog, on my Facebook and on Twitter. So be ready! When I open up the spots for Creative Counseling, I will only have a few spots available and they will be first come, first serve.

As always, my lovelies, I hope that you can take something from this post for use in your own life. Please feel free to leave me a comment and I'll reply back to you ASAP.

Remember that we are all visionaries. We just have to figure out where we excel.


Love to All,

-Bri