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Jeannie Motherwell is an artist whose career has seen a solid, multi-layered path within the art field, in spite of the fact that she spent years hiding her true identity.
Jeannie studied painting at Bard College, then at the Art Students League in New York. Next, she pursued arts education, followed by a rich career at Boston University for the graduate program in Arts Administration.
She felt fortunate to be surrounded by instructors who were working artists themselves, and by the daily inspiration she gleaned from advising budding art administrators.
But every evening, like so many artists. Jeannie would escape her day job to the studio to paint.
Recently, Jeannie retired from her full-time role at BU. Before that, her gallery representation of ten years ended when the gallery closed, leaving her at a crossroads. Though she was reluctant about the time and financial investment of The Working Artist course, she was motivated to dive in. “I wanted to learn the most productive way to utilize my newfound time as an artist efficiently and I wanted to find new gallery representation,” she stated.
“Watching Crista’s promotional videos and hearing her own story encouraged me to seek the tools I needed to forge ahead with my career. When I began painting years ago, social media and other marketing aspects of the trade didn’t exist or weren’t as crucial as they are in today’s art world. Crista explained why they should be just as much a priority as making the paintings themselves.”
Jeannie’s previous experience in the art world provided a sturdy foundation from which to leap. It wasn’t until after she finished The Working Artist and decided to invest in a Personal Strategy session with Crista that things came full circle.
It was during their private session together that Crista realized Jeannie was none other than the daughter of iconic mid-century painter Robert Motherwell and that she’d first learned how to paint from her father and her stepmother, the illustrious Helen Frankenthaler.
Crista was astounded that Jeannie Motherwell had chosen to bury this fascinating piece of personal history—or barely mention it— throughout most of her career.
Jeannie confessed that it felt like cheating to divulge the information. “The best way I can describe what it was like having two famous artist parents while launching a painting career myself, is that it is akin to being the aspiring actress and the daughter of famous movie stars.” Jeannie mused, “It’s a hard act to follow if you really love what you’re doing. I’m not trying to fill anybody’s shoes.”
“Crista helped me shift my perception by explaining that the truth was an asset; that it’s part of my history, part of who I am and part of what I do today.” Jeannie explained.
Now, Jeannie treats the information as an icebreaker to conversations. “It has introduced me to a whole new global community of abstract art enthusiasts. I have new friends and colleagues who make art, and I’ve become a mentor to a younger set of abstract artists.”
In the year since completing The Working Artist class, Jeannie Motherwell has signed with two galleries on the east coast with solo shows scheduled at both. She’s also working with an interior designer who expands her audience beyond typical gallery reach and clientele.
Jeannie credits The Working Artist with enhancing her networking and social media skills. “I now have connections with people all over the world who in turn have brought me more customers, inquiries, sales, and new relationships.”
Jeannie Motherwell describes her paintings as “explorations of the three-dimensional energy that defines the space in my pictures… with mysteries of creation — like the oceans and skies in changing weather, Hubble-type images of the universe, and my own physicality during the painting process.”
Learn more and about Jeannie and immerse yourself in her beautiful work at http://jeanniemotherwell.com/
Every artist struggles with the work/life balance. Jeannie Motherwell shares her routine:
My daily routine starts with the tasks I can’t attain at the studio. I go to the gym, answer myriad emails, pay bills, do admin work, work on grant applications and make a to-do list of things I need to tend to that day.
I try to get to my studio by early afternoon so I can work several hours uninterrupted before heading home for a late dinner. In the event there’s a studio visit from one of my dealers, or a prospective buyer, or even a trip to a gallery or museum, I may arrive earlier or later in the day, but I prefer to stick to a routine so I don't get side-tracked.
My studio is located in a former print factory. There are 100+ artists in the building, which is open 24/7.
I’ve found there are two general 'shifts' when people are there. There are the 'day people' and the 'after work' people, who generally begin coming in around 7pm. I fall in-between since I arrive around 2 and don't leave until after 7.
On the rare occasion that I’m there in the later evening, I notice the focus is primarily on making art. There is little socializing, and I get a strong sense of being part of a community of people who are hyper-focused on just making art.
They've likely done all their socializing during their workday and are longing for the solitude of their sacred space found in their studios.
For me to be most productive, I need a routine. It may seem counterintuitive for a creative person, but I prefer to accomplish the things I can control, so I can let loose and be totally free when in my studio.
As artists, we are CREATORS.
And your life is your greatest creation.
In his brilliant book Negative/Positive, Bill Jay wrote that artists are people who strive to become actually who they are potentially.
To become actually who we are potentially, I love that.
Who are you potentially? What lies inside you?
People look at my life as a creative nomad and ask "how did you do that?" I travel all over the world, writing and making pictures, working with other artists.
Everyone says, “You’re so lucky.”
Let me assure you, luck had nothing to do with it. I created this life.
Am I grateful?
Every. Single. Day.
At first, it was difficult to overcome the limitations and challenges that were placed in my path. Nothing came easily. It took work.
But the truth is, my journey began when I overcame the limits of my own imagination.
My journey began when I decided to trust myself, and to believe that it is possible to become the person who was living inside.
My journey began when I stepped out of who I was potentially and took steps toward who I wanted to be actually.
And you can too.
If you create the game
Then you create the rules
And if you just be you
There’s no way you can lose
As artists, we’re all trying to get closer to the essence of who we are. Right?
Isn’t art the deepest, most true expression of who you are? Of that which lives inside of you?
I believe that your life can be art too. In fact, your life is your greatest creation.
So your ultimate goal in your art practice is to create a life that’s an expression of you.
Like the woman said:
And if you just be you
There’s no way you can lose
If you just be you. If you become actually who you are potentially, there’s no way you can lose.
Of course, the big question is 'How?'
How can you make a living? How can you attract what you need while also being true to who you are?
When I decided to use my creativity to make a living, I didn’t know what that was going to look like. I didn’t have any of it figured out.
But I did know that it would feel authentic and empowering.
So I created a mantra that felt authentic and empowering. And I repeated these 5 words all the time.
“I make money being Crista.”
It’s simple, but deceptively so.
Now you try.
“I make money being me.”
Think about who you are potentially and then repeat the mantra again.
“I make money being me."
If you just be you, there’s no way you can lose.
“I make money being me.”
How do these magic words work? I’m not sure I can explain it but I know that they do.
I know that when you align your heart, your intentions and your creativity to work together, you become truly authentic. And life conspires to bring opportunities to you.
So repeat this mantra often.
And believe in yourself as you create your greatest masterpiece – your own life.
Because for an artist, there’s no greatest aspiration.
This picture of me above is not the most glamorous, yet it’s my favorite.
Let me explain.
All my life I’ve been terrified of sharks. Truly terrified.
My fears grew so big that I became unable to go in the ocean, in lakes, and finally, I couldn’t even go into swimming pools. Seriously!
I know that sharks don’t live in swimming pools but this is how irrational my fears became.
This photograph was taken in Capetown – right after I finished a shark dive.
That’s right, I decided to face my greatest fear head-on and allow myself to be plunged into shark-infested waters.
Was I scared?
Hell yes! There were great white sharks circling my cage! I was so petrified that my teeth literally chattered.
When this picture was snapped, I had just emerged from the water. I felt absolutely triumphant. I had faced my greatest fear.
And from that moment on, I knew that I could do anything.
But what does fear have to do with artists and achievement?
I’ve worked with other artists throughout my career and let me assure you, fear is epidemic. It stops even the most talented.
And more than fear is overwhelm, the feeling of being stopped by external circumstances.
It was a spiritual teacher who taught me that when you’re stuck or unsure, the best thing you can do to shift that energy is to do something that scares you.
And it works!
After my shark dive, not only was I no longer afraid to swim in the ocean but the rest of my life blossomed as well.
My creative output expanded, opportunities exploded.
I’d been playing around with the idea of The Working Artist for a few years, but now it finally began to gain serious traction.
The point is that instead of feeling frustrated by my dreams, I suddenly became unstoppable.
What’s your greatest fear?
You see, I believe that if you can conquer an irrational fear, or even a rational one, you push the boundaries of who you are.
You break-through the inner blocks and the stuck-ness that often traps you and keeps you from attaining your deepest wishes.
Self-help guru Tony Robbins says that the purpose of your dreams isn’t really to achieve that dream. The purpose of your dream is to develop into the person you imagine you’ll be once you attain it.
Try it out. Imagine a dream or goal you hold close.
Now imagine who you’ll be once you’re there. What does it feel like?
That, that feeling, that’s what you want to aim for. And one of the best ways I know to fast track it is to do something that scares you.
No, you don’t need to jump into shark-infested waters.
But you do need to stretch yourself.
Are you shy? Challenge yourself to go to an art opening and initiate at least three conversations.
Are you afraid of heights? Jump on a ferris wheel.
Feel the victory!
Stop putting your energy into what you don’t have, what you’re not doing.
Instead, step into your next self, really experience it, even celebrate it. And show The Universe that you’re ready.
Listen, the world is full of sharks. It’s full of those things that threaten to hurt you or even swallow you whole.
But trust me, once you look a shark in the eye you’ll find that it’s not so scary after all.
So dive in, the water’s warm!
It’s a sign of the times. We’ve all got to be more vigilant about cyber-security.
In fact, just a few days ago, January 28th, was Data Privacy Day. How did you celebrate?
But seriously, for artists it’s imperative to have back-ups of our data. I’ve known artists who’ve lost all of their images and even their professional records because of computer crashes - or even theft.
It devastated their business.
You’ve heard this advice before but now it’s time to do it:
Put a system in place to back-up your computer regularly.
Whether it’s a note in your calendar to do a physical back-up weekly, or whether you invest in a 3rd party application to continuously back up your data to the cloud, protecting your files is imperative.
Passwords are another important consideration - and I've got an interesting tip for making yours a lot stronger.
Instead of leaving yourself vulnerable with passwords that contain dates or names that are easy to hack, try this instead: Create a password that has meaning for you, one that even empowers your art practice.
Here’s what I’m suggesting:
Whenever you create a new password for your business accounts, make one that states your professional intention. This word or phrase can contain a creative mixture of letters and symbols, both lowercase and capital, to make it even more secure.
Here are some examples that I just brainstormed:
Do you get the idea? Every time you log into an online business account, such as online banking, you take a moment to set an empowering intention while knowing that you have a password that’s secure.
And you can create a different password for your creative accounts, such as online workshops, your website, or your art supplier. Here are some ideas:
I’ve just created these quick examples for fun, but I urge you to really think about some of the limiting thoughts and beliefs that you struggle with. And then see if you can create meaningful phrases that will help you to overcome the negative self-talk.
Meaningful passwords will serve to pepper your day with positive reinforcement. And they will keep your personal information safe.
The best part about changing your passwords to positive statements of intent? No one else will ever know!
I’ve created passwords for myself that have given me a few moments each day to remember my goals and connect with my power. This small practice has kept me focused and positive while ensuring that my data is secure from hackers.
I know these probably aren’t the most fun tips I’ve ever sent you, but they are important.
I don’t want to see you have to take backward steps because your data wasn’t secure and backed up. So please do consider how you are protecting yourself and take action to improve it.
And I hope you had a very happy Data Privacy Day!
I don’t know about you, but I’ve learned some painful lessons this past year. Lessons that marked my soul so deeply that they should be tattooed into my very flesh.
These are the lessons of faith, grace, and joy.
Like many artists, I often suffer from anxiety. There never seems to be enough time, money, or support.
But when a friend pointed out that the opposite of anxiety is faith, it felt as if my whole world shifted.
I’ll say it again so you can get it too.
The opposite of anxiety is faith.
Our responses are choices. And it is our choices that determine the quality of our lives.
Sometimes circumstances count, yes. But when you find yourself repeating the mantra of “not enough,” choose faith instead.
When you find yourself saying “no” to your heart’s desire, choose faith.
Your heart’s desire was given to you for a reason, you know. Believe in it.
Have faith in the creative spark, that part of you that calls itself ARTIST. After all, that’s really the best and most authentic part of you. Isn’t it?
Let’s resolve that for next year, you and I both will break the pattern of “not enough.” Instead we will choose faith in whatever our heart whispers.
I don’t want to get too personal but in so many ways 2016 kicked my butt.
I learned that when I lose battles, I can choose to release the sting of defeats. I can shift my focus on what has meaning for me, on what those setbacks taught me, what I’ve learned.
When I release expectations and obligations and even guilt, there’s a wonderful feeling of freedom as I return to my Self.
This past year taught me that when I walk in faith, when I connect with and believe in the truest part of myself, I am a lot more graceful.
I love how the word grace is also related to that most powerful of words –gratitude.
Grace happens when we can look back at our hardships as gifts and feel grateful for them.
But grace also speaks of creativity and the gifts that artists are given, that we are graced with.
When we work “in the flow” we most certainly feel grace. For artists. there’s no higher aspiration. Is there?
I fell down a lot this past year. Part of being an artist is taking risks and falling down. Failure and rejection are occupational hazards for creatives.
But real artists always, always get back up again.
We dust ourselves off, pick up our sword (or our brush or our pen) and courageously connect once more to what has meaning.
And then it happens. Through a strange coincidence you meet someone – the client you’ve been dreaming of, the support you’ve been asking for, an opportunity you never imagined…
Is it a coincidence? I don’t believe so. It’s grace.
Joy is the sum of walking in faith – knowing who you are – and grace – being who you are.
And when you add gratitude to the equation, you can’t help but feel joy.
Joy comes from being more of yourself. Being able to experience your own true nature more deeply. Making authentic connections on every level.
That’s why making art brings us such joy.
Because when we engage with making meaningful work, we’re connecting with the truest and deepest part of our spirit.
Can you think of anything more joyful than that?
For 2017, I urge you to throw off the shackles of anxiety and choose faith.
And as you walk in faith toward deeper authenticity, you will walk with grace.
This will bring you joy.
So for the next year –
for the next day –
for the next hour –
I wish you joy, joy, and more JOY!
Do you remember when you first knew that you were an artist?
I do. It began when my Dad gave me a gift.
Let me explain.
My parents were divorced and Dad lived far away. Though I loved him like mad, I rarely saw him.
When I was 16 years old, Dad invited me to join him on a two-day business trip to the city. He’d be in meetings during the daytime, but we could hang out together in the evenings.
It would be a huge adventure.
To keep me occupied while he was at work, Dad showed me how to use his old Olympus OM-10 camera. Dad loved to collect things like cameras and gadgets, but I'd never taken pictures before.
“There’s only one roll of film in the camera,” Dad warned. “That’s 36 shots for two days. Choose your images wisely.”
When I remember those two days, I remember how it felt to be so free. I wandered the strange city with that Olympus OM-10 around my neck and followed my instincts as I hunted for photographs.
I had all kinds of adventures!
Two years later for my 18th birthday, Dad sent me a gift. I’ll never forget opening that package and finding his old Olympus OM-10 camera.
That camera became my best friend. Together, we explored the world as I sought to find my place in it.
For years, I shot pictures at sporting events and public gatherings, thinking I might become a photo-journalist.
Later, people began to hire me as I picked up commercial photography work.
But it was when I changed my college major to fine-art photography that I knew I wanted to be an artist.
I used that Olympus OM-10 for all my assignments, and even took it with me for a year abroad.
When I returned home, my Dad died.
It happened unexpectedly - right before my wedding. I was marrying a photographer of great repute. I’d considered quitting photography myself, not wanting to share a profession with my husband.
And then on our honeymoon, my Olympus OM-10 was stolen.
I’ve never missed anything so much. That camera was a part of me, my story, and the only thing I had of my Dad’s.
I took the loss as a sign. So I created a new life for myself, without a camera.
I began representing other artists and photographers, selling their work to museums and galleries, helping to grow their careers.
But I missed my Dad.
One Christmas, I pulled out the boxes of slides he’d left behind. I poured myself a glass of wine as I sat in the dark looking at the projected images of his photographs.
I loved my Dad but he was no photographer. The vast majority of his images were pictures of his car, or pictures from the window of his car. There wasn’t a whole lot of interesting imagery going on.
Until there was.
One roll. One roll of film was interesting. After literally thousands of shots, one roll captured my attention.
I was mesmerized. I could see what he was going for with each shot. These images spoke to me, making my heart sing.
And then I understood why.
This was the roll of film that I’d shot all those years ago. My very first roll of film. I was able to recognize my own 16-year old eye.
And I liked what I saw.
Even though he was gone, my Dad had given me a gift. He had reminded me that I was a photographer.
I bought a digital camera and started shooting again.
I eventually split with my husband and built up a successful career as an international arts dealer.
My photography was something I only did for myself.
And then one Christmas, a friend sent me a gift.
It was a framed picture. A true work of art, he said. A work by a great artist, someone he thought that I needed to pay attention to.
It was a photograph that I had taken.
Not long after, I made the decision to leave the art business and focus on representing just one artist’s work – mine.
Today, I travel the world taking pictures.
My online business school for artists allows me to share what I’ve learned about showing and selling art. I’m teaching artists how to build their own careers.
And I’m able to use my creativity in service of others.
It’s been a gift.
I don’t know about you, but 2016 has been rough for me as I suffered some very sad personal losses. Not the least of which was the loss of my image library. My pictures.
Though I had four different back-ups on various hard drives and in clouds, my photo library was corrupted.
I lost thousands of my favorite pictures.
It’s been heart-breaking in a way that only another artist can understand. All that work, gone forever.
I wondered if maybe it was time to step away from photography?
A few weeks ago, I dropped by a neighborhood garage sale to poke around. There, still in the box, was a pristine Olympus OM-10 camera.
“It’s never been used,” said the owner. “Someone gave it to me as a gift in 1979 and I never even took it out of the box.”
It was a gift. To me.
It felt both familiar and strange in my hands.
Shooting an old film camera is nothing like digital. It makes me work slowly, to focus, to make every shot count. This Olympus OM-10 is teaching me about myself as an artist all over again.
It’s a wonderful gift.
I love that the word to describe an artist’s talent is “gift.” Don’t you?
In many ways, all artists view their creativity as a gift, a special endowment that we’re entrusted with. For better or worse – right?
When did life first show you that you had a gift?
What do you hope to do with it?
My wish is that 2017 is the year for you to share your gift in a way that makes your heart sing. And lets the world take notice.
Rewind to the Great Recession of 2008. Galleries closed. Art dealers moved on. Curators chased other professions.
Karen Jilly, a mid-career artist who unlocks beauty in deceptively ordinary, forgotten cityscapes, suddenly found herself without key trappings of the art business. She was also faced with the immediate need to care for two aging parents.
“I decided to take a break from art. It seemed like a good time to focus on family. So I stepped away from the art world,” Karen said.
Karen converted her studio into a caregiving space. Any last artworks that she created were given away. She even stopped subscribing to art magazines, going to museums and galleries or staying in touch with other artists. “I purged myself. I thought I would feel better not doing art,” Karen explained.
But Karen didn’t feel better. “In my heart, I couldn’t really stop making work,” she lamented.
Not being an artist began to erode her confidence. “I lost my self-esteem, I lost a sense of value in my work and I lost my voice as an artist. I completely lost my identity,” Karen described.
Fast-forward five years. Karen received a call from former gallery director and friend Crista Cloutier.
Crista was building The Working Artist, a new online course for artists. After hearing about Karen’s situation, she persuaded her to try the class.
Karen was beside herself: “I was hesitant. I didn’t know what to expect. I had lost all faith that I could even draw or paint. I felt unworthy to take Crista’s course.”
Karen’s reaction to Crista’s curriculum was tenuous. She wondered if she was just too old or too exhausted to start all over?
In a Working Artist video, Crista described a litany of things that artists tend to pigeonhole about themselves—from too old or too young, to lacking money or time. It was the catalyst Karen needed. “Crista’s unique insight hits on all of the inner struggles that artists have.”
As Karen pored through The Working Artist, she gained confidence and momentum. “Crista’s teachings helped me rediscover my artistic voice and how to reexamine my entire body of work,” Karen emphasized. “Her methods have a way of cutting through to pin-point your stumbling blocks. She helped me uncover what I was really trying to say with my art at a time when I felt like I had forgotten how to even speak about my work.”
“I have a real sense of wonder and purpose in my work again,” she mused. That’s what I’d lost: something calling me in the morning; having something to wake up for.”
Now, the woman who tried to erase herself as an artist is rising again like the Phoenix, mirroring the city she calls home. Karen Jilly, who once ignored her deepest callings—is now the subject of a 25-year museum survey!
“Alternative Beauty: The Work of Karen Jilly” opens at the Mesa Arts Center in Arizona, accompanied by a stunning 52-page catalogue.
If you have the opportunity to visit this exhibition, do. Otherwise, check out Karen’s gorgeous work at www.karenjilly.com.
As artists, we’re constantly questioning ourselves. And questions are good things, it’s important to ask questions.
But are you asking the right ones?
It’s easy to get caught up in questions such as:
- Am I good enough?
- Does anyone like my stuff?
- Do I have what it takes to succeed?
- Am I too old? (or too young, or too thin, or too fat, or too poor...)
These kinds of questions aren’t helpful because they’re disempowering.
I challenge you to begin asking better questions. Because the better the question, the more useful the answer.
Here are some questions that every artist should be asking.
That’s the best question to begin with. Ask yourself, as an artist, who am I?
You see, I believe that the artist’s life is all about answering that question. Your work is where you document your progress as you get closer to the answer.
What is it that you want to accomplish? If you’re like me, you probably have 100 answers to that question.
But sometimes when we have too many answers, that question never gets answered.
If you were to focus on what you want to do next, what makes the most sense as a next step for your practice, how would you answer that question?
What is it that you want to accomplish?
Where do you want to go? When you dream your dreams, where do you see yourself taking your work?
Are you going there now?
Are you at least pointing in the right direction?
Is it time to pull out the map again?
Now. That’s the only answer to this question.
No, it’s not too late. It’s never too late.
So you tell me that you’re even older than the famed Grandma Moses? Then beat her record for being the world’s oldest artist and you will have your own Unique Selling Proposition.
But seriously, if not now, when?
“Why” is one of the most important questions an artist can ask. Ask it often.
- Why is my art important to me?
- Why do I feel compelled to create?
- Why should people care about my work?
And I’ve said it before: I don’t care if your art is about craft, post-modern theory, politics, flowers, pet portraits or landscapes; just as long as you’re engaged with meaningful work.
Just as long as you’re trying to make the world a better place for you having been here.
And now you’re asking, How?
Baby steps. That’s how.
You are either on the journey or you’re not.
If you commit to baby steps, you’re always moving forward, you’re always engaged, you’re moving closer to your goal. That’s all that matters.
Never stop asking questions.
Because it’s questions that will lead you toward your answers.
I believe in the power of art. I believe that artists are leaders. And I believe that there has never been a time in our history when art has been so desperately needed.
This is a call to arms.
The world is changing quickly. As more people stare into their phones, trusting everything they see, following rhetoric that’s easier to believe than to question, art still has the power to make us think and feel.
Art is communication.
And though we find ourselves in the so-called “Communication Age,” never has there been greater need for true communication. Never has there been greater need for understanding, for ethics-driven principles.
Art brings human values back into the conversation.
So this is a time of opportunity for us. Not only do more avenues exist for you to share your work and spread your message, but your voice and sensibilities are essential now.
This is a time for artists to lead. For you to lead.
I understand that it’s also a very scary time. But know that artists throughout history have boldly risen to the challenge, and we shall too.
Don’t be afraid. Don’t be apologetic. Don’t make yourself small.
Use your work to speak out about whatever you feel called to say.
How do you want to leave the world behind for you having been here?
If you read my messages, you know that I believe that art is about more than just pretty pictures. It’s about the communication of ideas.
That’s why I feel it’s every artist’s duty to use their work to heal the world. And it starts by using your work to heal yourself.
But, you might be thinking that your work is about flowers or pet portraits or landscapes. How can you heal the world?
I don’t think there’s anything more healing than beauty. Do you?
I know that this challenge is difficult. Being an artist always has been. It’s easier to succumb to the overwhelm of everyday life, the pressures of money and relationships and tasks.
But life will always give us this kind of friction.
And it’s even more difficult for us because as creators, we crave the “ah-ha” moments. We’re addicted to the euphoria.
The truth is that we need the friction that real life brings to create work of value. We need to push ourselves with new directions and new problems to solve.
We need to overcome these challenges in order to get to those places of flow, of magic, of connection. There’s no other way.
If you want change, you have to make that change happen. You have to be that change.
You must commit to the tasks at hand, commit to making work of value, and commit to sharing it with a wider audience.
This is how you will save the world.
Because you are an ARTIST.
I saw him across the crowded room at the high school reunion. The memories came flooding back.
He was my hero, always coming to my rescue.That time that I lost my footing climbing the tall theater ladder to the catwalk, he climbed up and carried me down.When a classmate was too rough with me, he suddenly appeared at my defense as he karate-chopped my tormentor.
When my ride home from work failed to appear and left me stranded, out of nowhere a motorcycle roared up. Once again, I recognized my hero straight away.
But when I introduced myself to him at the reunion, he didn’t remember me at all. “I’m sorry,” He smiled politely. Not a clue.
I was mortified.
Until I asked him to tell me about his life since high school.
He explained that he’s made a career out of traveling the world to lead search and rescue missions.
Search and rescue, of course!
I realized that all those times he played the hero didn’t have anything to do with me. He was probably rescuing kittens and other girls at the same time.
Because rescuing people was about him – That’s who he was.
And I thought about you and me and other artists. I’ve always believed that art isn’t just something we do. It’s who we are.
What would happen if we followed the breadcrumbs of our lives backwards? Would we find that the seeds of our inner artist were there all along?
I know I would. Would you?
At the reunion, my friends and I spoke about what we’ve learned about happiness over the years.
I’ve learned that happiness is about being more of oneself. Happiness is being able to experience our true nature, our true self, more deeply. That's why happiness is an inside job. It comes from inside and moves out, not from the outside in.
My friend found happiness through rescuing people because that's his true nature.
But what about you? Are you embracing your true nature?
If not, don’t waste another minute waiting for someone else to rescue you.
Be your own hero.