In a recent post about sexism, which also included quite a bit about generational differences, I spoke of how some of my self-dislike and low spirits around my dull work life, life as a caregiver (despite passionately loving my "care recipient"), and financial and temporal limitations, stemmed from "the conversation" or "the buzz" as you will around the topics of self-actualization through work, postponing coupling (and childbearing, which for me was not relevant), and an extended period of self-exploration. And more importantly, about how doing those things is a passport to a good life, whereas not doing them, is a passport to poverty and a lesser one.
And now we have this op ed piece, which rehashes some of the same ground.
What I found most compelling, particularly in view of my goal to "jumpstart" my imagination, is the recent belief that postponing "settling" (one of the hallmarks of adulthood) allows the imagination to blossom more fully, and (although this was not mentioned) also allows one to "settle up" (with a more interesting and more lucrative career and a more appropriate spouse) when one does settle. The article states that the jury is still out on which comes first: the "settled, hardened brain" or the routinized life, but they do seem to be related.
I (and many others of my generation) postponed adulthood, certainly middle-class adulthood, for a period of time, and some never found it, but this was a very different trajectory from that of today's millennials. First, we got away from our parents at as young an age as possible and never went back. We did not take money from our parents for living expenses, certainly if we were living in a way that they would not have approved of. (If there was money, parents paid for college and graduate school - the latter mostly for sons - but nothing beyond.) We did not become part of the "establishment". Aborted our education. Some died of drug overdoses or ended up in jail for misguided "politically motivated" crimes or for God know what that we did when on drugs. Some managed a complete turnabout and became Yuppies. The rest (I would include myself here) settled for the lesser life that one ends up in with a tenth rate education, often too little too late, and the need to opt for short-term financial security.
Once I got sober, the first thing I did was find a mate (someone I was madly in love with, with whom I could have sex regularly - let's get real here), then a job. With nothing but a high school diploma and no work history I was lucky that I was able to get a "career ladder" secretarial job in publishing. I was making a pittance but had good benefits and a ladder up in an industry that I was familiar with because I had grown up around it. But that, and my early "marriage" did not do much in the way of allowing my imagination to blossom through novelty seeking. True, I believed that I was sort of living on the edge of danger being out when sexual orientation was not a protected class with regard to employment discrimination, and when being in big groups of gay people demonstrating (or even going in and out of buildings known to be gay-centered) might have led to an ugly skirmish, but actually my life was pretty dull and predictable. In the "textbook" time frame my relationship deteriorated from endless lovemaking and fighting (although some of that lasted for 20 years and the fighting continues to this day when I am mainly a caregiver) to discussions about grocery shopping and laundry, and certainly very little that I did at work was interesting at all. I mostly liked the job because it was easy and I could take an hour and a half for lunch three times a week to go to an AA meeting and talk on the phone with my AA fellows most of the day while I shoved documents into file folders. And I met interesting people.
I had hoped that when I stopped working in an office and got out of the routine I could find "something different" but I see that I have settled into another routine that is just as dull, and I don't even sleep that much later!!
It always seems to be a struggle, not just to find venues for singing at my age with so little experience, but just to diversify my life in any way at all!! I have always felt that my brain and my psyche fight these attempts at diversification much as my soul hungers for it, and at least this article explains why,
This also explains one of my sources of fascination with The Mentor. I envied how he was free of the two things that made my life feel like a prison: monogamy (which wasn't even that any more, when your partner is physically failing) and an office job. I can't comfortably address the first issue in a public blog, but although I am now free of the second, and do enjoy being able to mix and match my daytime schedule (do outside errands and make appointments during the day and work at my laptop at night), I seem to have ended up in the type of work that is largely dull and rote.
So how do I get my imagination jumpstarted?? Certainly remembering everything I learned from The Artist's Way has helped.
I would also like to see some articles about how some of the choices people like me made (and I am certainly not unique) can be leveraged as assets, going into the home stretch. I'm really kind of sick of all the coverage given to young people.
Showing posts with label personal growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal growth. Show all posts
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Friday, December 27, 2013
New Year's Resolutions, Six Months On
Well, it is now almost that time of year again.
I don't make it a rule that I must make New Year's resolutions, but as I felt a great need for some house cleaning earlier in the year (which I have continued with), I want to strengthen my resolve.
Maybe it's because I have gone back to AA meetings, but I spent part of this year taking a look at some of my behavior to see what exactly it was that was making me so unhappy, and I saw that a lot of it had to do with a kind of voyeurism that I was engaging in a propos of other people who had the lives I wish I had. It was very hard to feel gratitude and self-acceptance if every single day I was reading blogs and status updates from working singers, actors, and so forth. Particularly ones who were articulate culture watchers. No matter what they were writing about, it stung, whether they were writing about me or not (most likely not).
Since my involvement with blogging (which followed closely on the heels of my involvement with singing), I have had two major showdowns with groups of people I envied, (and some minor ones along the way), which should have told me something. I simply don't need to be looking in these people's bedrooms or reading their polemics. I notice that I already have felt better about myself since I stopped doing this.
These people's lives are extremely unusual. So if I don't work outside the house, and don't have relatives, and spend the morning reading journals and blogs from seven working singers, one director, and three voice teachers, I am going to lose sight of that fact, and feel quite small. On the other hand if I find places to socialize that are full of secretaries, nurses, even bankers (I have never envied money per se), I have a much more realistic attitude about where I fit in the scheme of things. Even the fact that I practice an art form at all, and in fact practice it well enough that I have a handful of performance venues where I can do solo singing, even for no money, puts me ahead of the game. It means I am "artier" and more creative than your average 63 year old woman with a bachelor's degree, whose only contact with the arts may be as a spectator.
So my first resolution is to reaffirm that I am not going to read any more personal blogs or opinion pieces (or peruse online fora) frequented by these people. I still read some blogs by voice teachers, but these are about vocal technique, health, and repertoire, not about how Miss Kansas is ruining things for "real" opera singers or how amateurs must never never forget that we are not the real deal.
My second resolution is to continue all the work that I did with The Artists Way. This taught me to incorporate beauty and sensuality into every nook and cranny of my life. It did not tell me I had to do something creative for a living or else I was a failure. That if you do not "love what you do" you are worthless. And in fact, I need to reaffirm that
Yes, I do love what I do, I just don't love what I do for a living, and ny third resolution is that I need to stop hating myself because I can't find something else to do for a living. I have to accept that what I do does not feed my soul in any way, so I need to feed myself otherwise, while at the same time being grateful that I have some livelihood, considering that many people don't these days. Leaving aside the obvious, singing, I can cook, and decorate, organize my photographs, write, look around me when I am out. I already avoid left brain hobbies like the plague. I can't remember the last time I even looked at a crossword puzzle, for example.
It's interesting. Since I have stopped "competing" with working singers and hating myself, some things have fallen into my lap. I am going to sing (the "Habanera" and something else) at a cabaret musicale. This is on a Sunday afternoon which is just fine and dandy. If I skip a Sunday choir sing maybe someone will miss me and I will stop feeling taken for granted. I will be singing Nins' "Cant deis Aucells" on Epiphany for the Spanish service. And I am continuing to work on the scenes from Carmen for my spring concert. There is all sorts of singing I can do where I can use artistry and garner applause that doesn't involve the (in fact rather limited) world of auditions for these no pay opera groups and others, who obviously don't want me.
Although I don't really see myself as a musical theater singer, I have found a musical theater piece that I adore: "Moonfall" from The Mystery of Edwin Drood. It is dripping with seduction, a lot like "Mon Coeur" and is in an ideal range for my type voice. If I sing it, I won't sing it as Rosa Bud in the show, I will sing it as if I meant the words, which are quite delicious.
Another sign of personal growth. I couldn't in a million years see myself wanting to sing "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" now. However mired I am in eldercare, sometimes lovingly, sometimes not, I know I am not a caged bird. I can fly and sing!
I don't make it a rule that I must make New Year's resolutions, but as I felt a great need for some house cleaning earlier in the year (which I have continued with), I want to strengthen my resolve.
Maybe it's because I have gone back to AA meetings, but I spent part of this year taking a look at some of my behavior to see what exactly it was that was making me so unhappy, and I saw that a lot of it had to do with a kind of voyeurism that I was engaging in a propos of other people who had the lives I wish I had. It was very hard to feel gratitude and self-acceptance if every single day I was reading blogs and status updates from working singers, actors, and so forth. Particularly ones who were articulate culture watchers. No matter what they were writing about, it stung, whether they were writing about me or not (most likely not).
Since my involvement with blogging (which followed closely on the heels of my involvement with singing), I have had two major showdowns with groups of people I envied, (and some minor ones along the way), which should have told me something. I simply don't need to be looking in these people's bedrooms or reading their polemics. I notice that I already have felt better about myself since I stopped doing this.
These people's lives are extremely unusual. So if I don't work outside the house, and don't have relatives, and spend the morning reading journals and blogs from seven working singers, one director, and three voice teachers, I am going to lose sight of that fact, and feel quite small. On the other hand if I find places to socialize that are full of secretaries, nurses, even bankers (I have never envied money per se), I have a much more realistic attitude about where I fit in the scheme of things. Even the fact that I practice an art form at all, and in fact practice it well enough that I have a handful of performance venues where I can do solo singing, even for no money, puts me ahead of the game. It means I am "artier" and more creative than your average 63 year old woman with a bachelor's degree, whose only contact with the arts may be as a spectator.
So my first resolution is to reaffirm that I am not going to read any more personal blogs or opinion pieces (or peruse online fora) frequented by these people. I still read some blogs by voice teachers, but these are about vocal technique, health, and repertoire, not about how Miss Kansas is ruining things for "real" opera singers or how amateurs must never never forget that we are not the real deal.
My second resolution is to continue all the work that I did with The Artists Way. This taught me to incorporate beauty and sensuality into every nook and cranny of my life. It did not tell me I had to do something creative for a living or else I was a failure. That if you do not "love what you do" you are worthless. And in fact, I need to reaffirm that
Yes, I do love what I do, I just don't love what I do for a living, and ny third resolution is that I need to stop hating myself because I can't find something else to do for a living. I have to accept that what I do does not feed my soul in any way, so I need to feed myself otherwise, while at the same time being grateful that I have some livelihood, considering that many people don't these days. Leaving aside the obvious, singing, I can cook, and decorate, organize my photographs, write, look around me when I am out. I already avoid left brain hobbies like the plague. I can't remember the last time I even looked at a crossword puzzle, for example.
It's interesting. Since I have stopped "competing" with working singers and hating myself, some things have fallen into my lap. I am going to sing (the "Habanera" and something else) at a cabaret musicale. This is on a Sunday afternoon which is just fine and dandy. If I skip a Sunday choir sing maybe someone will miss me and I will stop feeling taken for granted. I will be singing Nins' "Cant deis Aucells" on Epiphany for the Spanish service. And I am continuing to work on the scenes from Carmen for my spring concert. There is all sorts of singing I can do where I can use artistry and garner applause that doesn't involve the (in fact rather limited) world of auditions for these no pay opera groups and others, who obviously don't want me.
Although I don't really see myself as a musical theater singer, I have found a musical theater piece that I adore: "Moonfall" from The Mystery of Edwin Drood. It is dripping with seduction, a lot like "Mon Coeur" and is in an ideal range for my type voice. If I sing it, I won't sing it as Rosa Bud in the show, I will sing it as if I meant the words, which are quite delicious.
Another sign of personal growth. I couldn't in a million years see myself wanting to sing "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" now. However mired I am in eldercare, sometimes lovingly, sometimes not, I know I am not a caged bird. I can fly and sing!
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Personal Growth
I need to be working, but I wanted to document the personal growth I exhibited today.
Quite by accident (well, no; that's a bit disingenuous) I stumbled upon a blog post from one of the blowhards whose writing made me feel angry and self-deprecating. I took her off my blog reading list, but a voice teacher whose blog I do read, whose studio is one of the pages I have "liked" on Facebook, reposted something from the blowhard, so, yes, I read it.
There has been a lot of uproar lately about all the "child prodigy" opera singers, who, apparently, are singing Puccini on Youtube. I don't listen to these things because I'm too busy, and if I'm going to listen to something on Youtube I want it to be something that I can learn from (for example a rendition of a song or aria that I am working on). I agree that they are probably ruining their voices, not to mention their psyches, by doing this, but as for thinking that they are damaging Art, with a capital "A", I am not that arrogant.
The post by the blowhard was a recycling of her favorite themesong: that she is the real deal, and these imitators (whether they're teens, beauty contestants, or hobbyists with other day jobs) are not. Hers was not the first diatribe I had seen about these "prodigies". What differentiated it was that it was used as an opportunity to engage in another bragfest about herself. In addition to railing about the "prodigies" she also went into an elaborate riff on all the things she is not good at (sewing)/sort of good at, but O!M!G! not a professional!! (cooking)/superb at (singing opera).
OK, I effing got it!! I am not as good an opera singer as Miss Blowhard. OK OK OK OK I get the point!! (Now I want to say here, lest I am accused of being paranoid, that I don't think she was talking about me, although I saw myself in relation to opera singer as she sees herself in relation to chef.)
But why does she constantly have to belabor this point again and again? What I said before is that people who are happy with themselves don't engage in this type of rant; they are too busy doing what they're good at.
I earn my living editing. There are bad editors, and people who call themselves "word people" who don't know the difference between a pronoun that's meant to be the subject of a sentence and one that's meant to be the object of a sentence. (A woman I know posted on Facebook that she is a "grammar fanatic" and then went on to say "there are certain errors that amuse my boyfriend and I" Huh??? At first I thought she might have written that tongue in cheek but on second reading I decided she hadn't.) Do I spend my time getting my "knickers in a twist" over such things? No.
I will have to admit that I got angrier over reading that blog post than I would have liked to. Whereas the world would probably be a better place without phony child opera stars, I don't know if it would be a better place without hard working amateur performers who will never be as good as the professionals who have studied all their lives but who still would like our afternoon in the sun, performing music we love in front of an audience, without constantly being reminded of our inferiority; or that we are somehow damaging Art if a random audience can't tell the difference between, say, me and Miss Blowhard.
But I am proud of myself that I did not let this ruin my day, or my excitement about planning my Carmen concert event.
I read, I felt sick to my stomach, I made a Facebook post, and then I went back to working on perfecting my pronunciation of the Catalan dialect I will be singing in "El Cant dels Aucells". And I sang through it twice with my little keyboard, which is near my front door. And then I pulled out my German dictionary to translate "Nun Wandre Maria".
Quite by accident (well, no; that's a bit disingenuous) I stumbled upon a blog post from one of the blowhards whose writing made me feel angry and self-deprecating. I took her off my blog reading list, but a voice teacher whose blog I do read, whose studio is one of the pages I have "liked" on Facebook, reposted something from the blowhard, so, yes, I read it.
There has been a lot of uproar lately about all the "child prodigy" opera singers, who, apparently, are singing Puccini on Youtube. I don't listen to these things because I'm too busy, and if I'm going to listen to something on Youtube I want it to be something that I can learn from (for example a rendition of a song or aria that I am working on). I agree that they are probably ruining their voices, not to mention their psyches, by doing this, but as for thinking that they are damaging Art, with a capital "A", I am not that arrogant.
The post by the blowhard was a recycling of her favorite themesong: that she is the real deal, and these imitators (whether they're teens, beauty contestants, or hobbyists with other day jobs) are not. Hers was not the first diatribe I had seen about these "prodigies". What differentiated it was that it was used as an opportunity to engage in another bragfest about herself. In addition to railing about the "prodigies" she also went into an elaborate riff on all the things she is not good at (sewing)/sort of good at, but O!M!G! not a professional!! (cooking)/superb at (singing opera).
OK, I effing got it!! I am not as good an opera singer as Miss Blowhard. OK OK OK OK I get the point!! (Now I want to say here, lest I am accused of being paranoid, that I don't think she was talking about me, although I saw myself in relation to opera singer as she sees herself in relation to chef.)
But why does she constantly have to belabor this point again and again? What I said before is that people who are happy with themselves don't engage in this type of rant; they are too busy doing what they're good at.
I earn my living editing. There are bad editors, and people who call themselves "word people" who don't know the difference between a pronoun that's meant to be the subject of a sentence and one that's meant to be the object of a sentence. (A woman I know posted on Facebook that she is a "grammar fanatic" and then went on to say "there are certain errors that amuse my boyfriend and I" Huh??? At first I thought she might have written that tongue in cheek but on second reading I decided she hadn't.) Do I spend my time getting my "knickers in a twist" over such things? No.
I will have to admit that I got angrier over reading that blog post than I would have liked to. Whereas the world would probably be a better place without phony child opera stars, I don't know if it would be a better place without hard working amateur performers who will never be as good as the professionals who have studied all their lives but who still would like our afternoon in the sun, performing music we love in front of an audience, without constantly being reminded of our inferiority; or that we are somehow damaging Art if a random audience can't tell the difference between, say, me and Miss Blowhard.
But I am proud of myself that I did not let this ruin my day, or my excitement about planning my Carmen concert event.
I read, I felt sick to my stomach, I made a Facebook post, and then I went back to working on perfecting my pronunciation of the Catalan dialect I will be singing in "El Cant dels Aucells". And I sang through it twice with my little keyboard, which is near my front door. And then I pulled out my German dictionary to translate "Nun Wandre Maria".
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