One of the things I’m most needing to learn right now is how to give myself the solitude my spirit craves without isolating. It isn’t easy, but I’m starting to discover that while I can be drained by social situations, some time alone with my art journal or in a bubbly tub or in nature will fill my well right up. What’s more, social time gives me a sense of connection to the divine that I don’t get by staying all locked up tight in my house or head. It’s inspiring to be around people, especially people who get me. I’m grateful to have a few of those rare Effy-Getting-Creatures in my life. And, that tribe is increasing as I throw myself headlong into art.
The reemergence of the podcast has brought me a lot of joy. A lot of work, too, but still…a lot of joy. Right now, the balance is tipping pretty much in favour of the joy side of the equation. I’m very watchful of the whole thing so that if it starts to tip toward the other side of things too much, I step back, rejuvenate, and do what I need to do to ensure that the service I provide to community through the ‘cast doesn’t take over my life. Maintaining two separate personas may seem crazy to some of you – especially those of you who know how time consuming making videos, art, blogs, and podcasts can be. Doing it for one persona is work enough. Doing it for two? Insano in the braino…except that keeping them separate means I have a place to go to nurture myself, to nourish my soul. The art community feels like that place. Sanctuary, Home. A place where I don’t have to shield myself too heavily from an onslaught of communication and energy. The communication I do get asks nothing of me. It is supportive or affirming. The communication I get in the podcasting realm tends to be overwhelmingly either demanding (could you teach me/tell me/ answer me/ enter me in the draw/ play my music on your show/promote me/ mention me/ etc.) or contentious (how could you say that/ think that/ be that way). There are some lovely voices in the mix, too, and that’s why I continue to do it. Voices that say you made me think / I feel inspired by you / You’ve brought so much to my attention/ I feel my spiritual life is renewed thanks to your outreach. Those voices are out there, but sometimes that gets drowned out by what I perceive to be a sense of entitlement among the pagani that never fails to astound me. It is as though putting myself out there means I am somehow obligated to be available at every turn to people I don’t even know. Odd. Occasionally exhausting. I serve a very young spiritual tradition, and the squeaky wheels out there tend to be – well – squeaky. But I am also serving a spiritual movement that is growing, maturing – a movement I can’t help but love very passionately.
A part of the problem has been my own lack of boundaries, and that’s something I’ve been working very hard on. I don’t have to be wrapped up in the emo over the entitled letters or the contentious letters or the squeaky wheels. I can do what I do, step back, and remind myself that it’s up to the receiving end to do what it will with what I’ve offered. It is an offering, after all. Not an order or a requirement. No one makes them listen, right? Right. 
The spirit I do the show in is one of generosity. I love to evangelize awesome authors and musicians. I love to share my thoughts on all things spiritual. When I do that and leave the muttering and arguing and nastiness (which happens!) out of my life, I love what I do. When I engage too fully in dialogue that isn’t in keeping with my intention, it’s very draining and I burn out. I’m learning.
So the two personas remain distinct. I’m Effy here, and I’m Fey over there. It’s working, for now. Come September, things might get a little difficult to manage because I’m opening an artisan consignment and spiritual community center in Cambridge with my sweet, awesome friend, Stacey, and we are going to be chickens with our heads cut off for a while.
In the meantime, there’s art. There’s that soft place to land among my fellow artists. There’s the reprieve I get when I sit down to paint or art journal or simply doodle – a space that allows me to get the hell out of my head. And when I share, I trust my beautiful tribe of artsy souls to be gentle. To be sweet. And they never fail me. They always are.
Thank you.
x-posted to BlogSpot
