I nervously rose towards the front of the sanctuary to give my class performance tonight. I was dead last. I purposely put myself last on the list, hoping that I wouldn’t have to present at all. And normally, I don’t have fears associated with public speaking. But, tonight, in particular, the students’ performances were stunning and vibrant and they pulled at my heart strings and I cried, a lot. I didn’t want to follow any of them. Charlee with her brilliant 3 minute standup on pirates or Marian’s heartfelt piece on NIA. There was Martha, with the gut-wrenching performance of that song and then, of course Liana’s amazing solo. And Deana’s touching and vulnerable moment, which lead to Vicki’s beautiful rendition of the reluctant teacher. I hadn’t prepared. I hadn’t put the “effort in” and I was afraid of how I’d appear to the rest of the class.
Appearance for me is a huge issue. If you haven’t noticed, please read my blog and you will soon discover, that how I am perceived by the world and how I see myself in the world is a huge and misleading source of discomfort and consternation for me.
Who am I to show up and feel it’s ok to take stage without a scripted piece? Who am I to think that what I have to say will matter? Have substance? Make meaning for others?
Well, who am I not to be? I am, after all, me. And that is probably all that I need to be. Spiritually speaking.
One of my last blog entries, Sweaty Bicycle Mama, ended with a bit about being pretty and put together and how that is an aspect of beauty. How, being pure of heart and authentic is certainly another equally important aspect of beauty. And how, if you manage both, I find that to be unattainably, miraculously, competently wonderful.. Sure, beauty is a wondrous thing.
But, in the end, the thing that I am striving for is acceptance. And, as I looked out on the audience of my peers, I knew instinctively, that I was unconditionally accepted and loved for who I am, just as I am. Sweaty, bunched up panties, unprepared speech and all, they love me. I think the instructor said that I was adorable or charming or something like that….and it’s funny, because, this is exactly what I strive to be: adorable.
It’s something I’ve longed for since I was a little girl. I don’t know if is something I didn’t get enough of as a child or something that is inherent within me from a past life, but the thought of being adored and loved, just as I am is something that makes me well up with tears and seriously fall to pieces over.
And the instructor asked me what was my purpose with my piece. What goal did I have in mind. And honestly, I stared down at my feet and sort of dragged my shoe across the ground like a timid teenager. I had not plan. I had no idea of what I wanted to accomplish, other than acceptance by my peers. Wasn’t that enough, I thought to myself. After everything I’ve been through, can’t simply being accepted be an adequate goal? I think he has higher expectations of me than I have of myself. And that is unique.
I friend recently told me that they feel “lost”. And, after trying to surmise a valid response worthy of this person’s caliber and character, I reverted to a quote from Thoreau: When we find we are totally lost, it is then when we truly discover and understand who we are. Telling him this was an act of healing for myself. I hadn’t considered how utterly lost I can become in the self-deprecating, self-censoring, apologetic-manner-for-my-very-presence mode of behavior in which I live.
Tonight, these people, my peers, truly accepted me for who I was, without script or special flair. The truth is, that I showed up, raw, authentic and unapologetically as myself and that, in it’s own way is the performance of a lifetime.
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