Part of the reason for my push to focus on creativity these days is to rocket my posterior out of the blahs and into a more enjoyable, productive mode of living. In truth, the blahs were more than simple blahs; I’ve been recovering recently from multiple significant losses. I lost both a day job and something else that’s hard to define; I suppose you could call it the end of an era. Both losses, however, shut me down in very critical areas of life, and re-emerging in those areas means a sort of rebirth, which is most certainly a creative act; sometimes a bit like composing a crucial leitmotif while walking the high wire.
Tomorrow I go on yet another job interview; two, depending on how you define “interview.” (One is basically me responding to someone’s informal suggestion that I come to her massage studio and have a look around and talk with her when I have a few moments downtown.) All this is happening on a day when I’m going to get oiled up doing another lomilomi (Hawaiian sacred bodywork) practice session…and you know, this is simply my life. It occurred to me, yes, I could take along my customary dress slacks and silk blouse to change into after doing the bodywork session, but half the reason I applied for the job in question is because the people there sound as if they’re very much like me; it’s a coop specializing in sustainable transportation and helping people live off the grid, and I can scarcely imagine that they’re all wandering around wearing Gucci pumps and Coach ascots. And so, I thought, might it be acceptable to simply show the more ornate side of my customary casual look? Why not wear something that looks like me? Why not pair my new favorite purple silk brocade top with my purple suede shirt/jacket? And while we’re going a bit on the rugged side with suede, why not wear my very nice new black jeans?
A voice in my head is telling me I have finally lost my mind. “You’re going to wear jeans to a job interview? WHAT???”
But another voice popped in. “This is not the kind of place that pays big bucks. The only reason to even consider working for a place like this is to be yourself, doing work that matters, dealing with other people who also live in the real world. If they would seriously look at the fabric of which my pants are made with a more critical eye than the substance of my resume and interview, that’s the first sign I don’t belong there. And for all I know, they might feel a little intimidated or alienated if I came in dressed to the nines; do they, after all, have anything in common with someone who might possibly be that into appearances?” Yes, the only reason to take a job like we’ll be discussing would be to be myself and deal with reality; they might as well see the real me from day one so that there aren’t any extraneous illusions to cut through later.
Meanwhile I even find scrounging up these comparatively comfortable and festive clothes fairly blah…I just don’t enjoy the whole wardrobe “thing” the way I did in earlier periods of my life…and so I decided I needed some musical inspiration. It came to me that I hadn’t listened to a Pearl Jam CD in a while; I’ve listened to the few tunes I’ve uploaded to iTunes, but that’s less than fifteen songs in all and it’s not the same experience. So I popped Dissident into the CD drive.
…What are these tears in my eyes?…Oh, this is why I haven’t listened to the CDs in at least a few weeks…they remind me of times I miss. Times I consider happier than the current one…going to Hawai’i…taking on my new name…dancing with one of my best friends, who’s gone through such changes that I nearly fear he might be hard to recognize before much longer…performing at a music venue which, a few months later, doesn’t even exist anymore…
I’ve held off on a lot of things since the final curtain of that era in my life came crashing down one chilly Saturday morning. They’re basic things; the music I love…dancing…the path of growth around my femininity…just letting myself feel good without holding back for fear of loss. So what, then, is the creative way to walk back onto the stage when the act you most loved playing a part in has finally come to a close? I don’t know…but I think even if I can never listen to Ten without crying again, I’ll still turn it on.
