Training for the Creative Marathon

brookeshaden — Thu, 25 Jun 2015 14:41:04 +0000

We can learn a lot from athletes. They know, factually and without dispute, that they must practice before they compete. A runner knows that he or she must run most days leading up to a marathon to build endurance. A high jumper knows that he or she must practice in order to be able to achieve the jump of their dreams. Yet a lot other professions, passions or hobbies aren’t necessarily seen in the same way. Photographers and artists, for some reason, seem exempt in this category. We get an idea, and then when it doesn’t work out, we consider it, or ourselves, a failure. So rarely do we try again, each day, practicing until we get it right. We simply assume we are not good at it.

Part of the problem is how we view the arts. We are taught that art is something very natural, that if we are to be good at it we are born that way with a certain intuition and magic. Yet it does not have to be so. I am not naturally good at very many things. Photoshop is not intuitive to me, and I have to work hard. I always have. In school I got mediocre grades, didn’t get into any great colleges, and I worked twice as hard as anyone I knew in school then. So working hard isn’t an issue, but self-confidence can be.

Like any athlete, if you do put in the practice and you don’t see any obvious changes, it is easy to get discouraged. We practice and fail and don’t seem to get better – we can’t log our running times our measure our high jumps – so it might all seem for naught. But, instead of getting so down on ourselves, we must simply figure out a way to measure how much our practice time is helping.

One way to do that is to create a running list of everything that you’ve learned from failing. Each time you try something new and fail, write down one thing that you learned from the process. For a photographer, it might be certain lighting, a tool in Photoshop, etc. The second thing to do is to actively seek a solution. If you can’t figure out how to do something in Photoshop, go searching for the answer to that specific thing. What if we all took more notice of what exactly has gone wrong and how to fix it, *and* we practiced each day for the thing we love most?

I did this in high school. I practiced everyday, took note of things I was bad at, sought out extra help in areas I needed to improve, and yet still, despite all of that, I did not get into a great college. I still got bad grades. What I have learned since leaving the school system has been life-changing. When I was trapped in that way of thinking, I did not have the capacity to judge myself outside of the standards imposed on me: testing, grading, report cards, etc. I thought that the measure of my worth was directly proportional to how “fridge-worthy” my report card was. And so I judged myself based on rules that someone else created.

What I know now is that there is no way of grading your passion. There is no way of knowing if you are certainly getting better or worse. All we can know is this: the way the tide breaks on our life is a particular pattern that only we can learn to love. We cannot change the way the tide breaks, we can only jump in the waves or stand aside and watch it happen. We can choose to pursue our passion or we can give up trying. And no one can grade us on hard we played in the waves. That is for us to know, and so our worth is not measurable by mathematic standards, but instead by how much we practiced what we love.

Are You Stinky?

brookeshaden — Sun, 23 Nov 2014 15:08:25 +0000

Funny story…

A couple days ago I was in Portland, and I was flying home with my friend and sister. On the flight we got separated, so I sat toward the front of the plane while they sat toward the back. In order for them to sit beside one another, they asked a man if one of them could switch seats, and he obliged. Not only did he oblige, he also made a comment along the lines of how grateful he was didn’t have to sit next to me because I look like I smell bad. Apparently he had made note of the three of us in the airport and decided it would be very bad to sit next to me on the airplane.

When my friend and sister got off the plane, they ran to me to tell me this story. “How crazy!” “How funny!” These were the things we laughed about as they told me what had happened. And yet, the more I sat with the story, the more I started thinking about the complete lack of tolerance and kindness that was displayed throughout the occurrence.

I dress a little bit differently, it could be said. That day I was wearing brown boots, a gray baggy skirt, a tan shirt with big sleeves (my favorite!) and a brown sweater with a headband. I layer a lot most days when I travel (and even when I don’t…my friends joke that I am slowly disappearing) so that I can fit more in my suitcase and carry the bulk with me, plus I get cold a lot. I had noted that morning that I was looking a little more…bulky…than usual because of how much I had to fit in my suitcase. But that said, I love the way I dress. It might be a little different and I might get frisked at airport security a lot, but it is me.

I can’t help but think of that man’s snap judgment, that because I dress differently and because I had a lot of layers on that I must be an awful person to sit next to on the plane. My sister and friend both mentioned how he was completely serious, looking very relieved that another situation did not transpire. And yet…

Think of how much we can change people’s minds. Think of that incredible ability we all possess to change how people see us, how stereotypes are perceived, and how we treat each other, too. We are all powerful beings. We all have a story inside worth letting out, no matter what our circumstance.

This whole experience makes me want to be so much kinder to strangers I meet. After all, strangers are friends we have yet to make. I believe in my ability to change someone’s life just the same as I believe in anyone’s ability to do just the same. I believe it is possible because I’ve seen it happen; I’ve had my life changed. A stranger can help you see perspective.

I imagine I’ll be more aware of how others perceive me, since that is something I have rarely considered before. But instead of changing how I look or covering myself up or revealing more skin, I’m going to be totally, completely me to everyone I encounter. I’m going to say what I want to say, and remember that kindness breeds kindness. The only way we can fully understand love is to give love.

Even if someone doesn’t see you for who you really are, or if, by chance, a stranger on an airplane calls you stinky…take it as a challenge to be the better person. Take it as a challenge to show them a side of you they might not have seen immediately. Take it as a challenge to show them love. Show them kindness. Show them change.

So, dear man on the plane, who happens to think I’d be a terrible person to sit next to, if ever our paths cross again… I will be sure to wear an air freshener around my neck so as not to scare you off. I will sit with you and share my story and listen to yours, and prove to you that how a person looks just might be secondary to how a person feels, and certainly what a person deserves. And how a person feels just might be enough to change the world.

With love,
Stinky

judgment – Promoting Passion

Training for the Creative Marathon

Are You Stinky?