Michelangelo’s quote: “I Saw the Angel in the Marble and I carved until I set it Free” reminds me of the concept of the Uncarved Block as described in The Tao of Pooh. The book begins by describing that harmony naturally occurs and could be found by anyone, but not if you follow the laws of Man which essentially manipulate the world to prevent or remedy discomfort. The more Man interferes the more harmony retreats. So the Uncarved Block is pure and simple and full of possibilities and without arrogance, complexity, and the desire to be clever enough to solve the problems as Man sees them. Life could be fun, experiential, meaningful, and free.
Can I be the Uncarved Block? Why let the should of childhood rhetoric, the imposition of modern culture, the ridicule of peers for coloring outside the lines, the mistrust by those who are jaded by achievement of others, the resistance of my reaction to those who wish to rely on me to make up for their shortcomings – why let those constraints cut into my grain and mold me? Indeed, why let them? Do I let them? If I don’t let them, their constraints will no longer exist in my world. To be happy, to be free, to experience harmony in the natural world which is larger than me and my species, I need to become the Uncarved Block, to open myself to new possibilities.
Ha! As I’m writing, my mind just wandered . . . the art of carving wood, stone, or any other material is taking away the excess to reveal the true essence which lies underneath . . . Just as the Marble was full of possibilities to Michelangelo and out came the Angel.
“Who are we?” Who am I? Only I can carve away the excess to find out. Where to begin?
This is beautiful! The idea that we let others and outside influences cut into us and let that mold us instead of us molding ourselves really hits home. It’s so easy to bend to other people’s will and let them take pieces of us, but to find who we truly are, we have to do the carving ourselves.
I also echo your “Where to begin?” Do we start with the ending in mind? Do we carve away piece by piece as we come across what is no longer needed? Do we just start and see where we end up?
Kim, I love the Tao of Pooh and your post! The carving away of what gets placed upon us to discover who we are underneath it all is such a wonderful and hopeful idea. Knowing we have the ability to remove that which we do not want is quite powerful. I wish you luck in your self-sculpting.
I love how you think out loud as you follow the thread to something magical.
From The Uncarved Block, in The Tao of Pooh—pure and simple and full of possibilities — to entertaining the idea of becoming the Uncarved Block and opening yourself to new possibilities, to seeing how “the art of carving wood, stone, or any other material is taking away the excess to reveal the true essence which lies underneath.”
Finally, you see that you are the only one who can carve away the excess to find out what lies beneath. Where do you begin? I believe you already have. This whole life so far has been one of uncarving and becoming. Only these days, you can see what you’ve been doing all along.
I look behind me and see the many stories, seasons, and
landscapes that have altered me.
This was my day yesterday. I found myself doing this with more acceptance than I would have months ago. For many years, I have struggled with the inability to get my writing off the ground in, not surprisingly, the way my 20 yo self imagined my future. But at 20, I could not imagine that that following year my father would be shot, in a park, with another woman (who was neither my mother nor his current wife). The other woman died. My father lived. In fact, he just passed away this past May. I had no way of knowing how this event, and my parents divorce a few years earlier, would completely upend in my life.
When I look back on the years since, I have only viewed how I had been stymied. How all my forward momentum in my youth was interrupted and retarded. But at the age of 23, I walked into a therapist’s office and told the woman who would spend five years on my journey with me, that there was no way I could have been raised in my parents’ home, endured the events of my early 20s, and think that I knew how to lead a healthy, functional life.
Yesterday, I fully realized that on that day, I walked through a door that led to my actual desires, which were not writing or dancing or teaching, but instead, my desires and ambitions were about becoming a healthy, fully functioning adult. All my energy and effort went into this; and yesterday, upon owning this has always been my first and foremost goal for my life, I realized that I have succeeded far beyond any expectations that my younger self could have imagined. Mainly, I’m rewarded with what I can only call, magical, relationships with my husband and daughter.
With this awareness, all my angst regarding my perceived lacks, those things that my birth family trauma and dysfunction had robbed me of, was a false angst. Because, as I have now owned, they were not my first pursuit. Stabilizing the ground under my feet has been my priority. I also came to realize yesterday, that while I have been wabbling along, I’m much like a Weeble. I wabble, but I haven’t fallen down.
Today, I am celebrating (and tearing up as I write this) because my life has been so rich and full: and, until now, I simply have not allowed that in. In spite of everything, I taught children how to make their bodies and hearts dance for 25 years, and I have two published books. Along with that, I’m blessed to not have to consider making a career out of my writing. And next Sunday, at new children’s bookshop that has opened in my area, I’m doing an Angelina Ballerina story time in which a former student of mine is bringing her daughter to, and the sister and niece of another former student are attending. I’m so excited!!!
For the first time in my life, I’m finding peace in all that has been.
The maturity that you brought into your therapist’s office at 23 is commendable- to know that you needed and desired to start at your foundation, before addressing the other areas of your life. It is really amazing how long it takes and how difficult it truly is to work through childhood trauma and familial dysfunction. You are doing the hard work and doing it with compassion for yourself. That is beautiful to witness.
Constance, your openness and vulnerability is inspiring! Reading this, I am so happy for you and the acceptance and validation you are showing yourself. Slay queen! You deserve to celebrate this peace.
Dear Constance – I literally leaned in towards the screen as I began reading your post here. It is so beautifully and authentically shared; it touched me deeply. Thank you for this. I’m truly happy to read your last paragraph! What an enormous and positive influence your new perception (realization) on the many gifts you’ve given to yourself and others. You inspire me!!
To read about your realization that your life has indeed been rich and full and you are beginning to make peace with a past that is gaining speed in moving into the back mirror, brings tears to my eyes. You have touched many lives, and as you begin putting yourself out there again, they are coming to celebrate and support you.
Enjoy every moment next Sunday! I can’t wait to hear how it went.
Sorry, I must have messed up my posts somehow and replied to Constance’s… I can’t find a way to delete the duplicates.
I am not the same person as I was. This is so true, every day. Yes, Kim, where to begin indeed…
As a child, I wanted to be an architect. I loved making and analyzing floor plans, but my high school CADD teacher was lackadaisical at best in his instructions and grading. I left those classes with an inflated sense of ability. In my first semester in architecture college, I was rudely awakened to my ill-preparedness and my sheltered views of what architecture even meant. I struggled to find my footing, and had to change course- move back home, and start over on a different degree, a different direction.
My perception of my present self at the time, and my future self, was altered. It was a shedding of part of my identity up until that point. While there have been many identity-shifting moments in my life, that was one of the most poignant, because I went from thinking so avidly that “this is what I’m gonna be when I grow up,” to “what am I going to do, I’m almost grown up!?” It was the first time I was forced to look in a mirror and do some soul-searching.
Life has been a slow process of shedding constraints and expectations that others have of me, and that I have of myself. A falling away of the layers of compounded rock and sediment that make up that Uncarved Block. Sometimes I’m not sure that I am keeping up with these internal changes.
Ellen, Sometimes the internal changes come so fast. As well as sometimes the external influences do. Both can cause a kind of mental and emotional whiplash. Been there many times. Perhaps it is rest that you need at this time. A rest from the thinking about it all. And maybe in the resting you will discover the shape inside your Uncarved Block. If what I’m witnessing in the group is the uncarved block, it is full of much beauty and compassion, which indicates to me brilliant, bright shining light waiting inside.
The more I read everyone’s comments, the more I realize how similar and different we all are. We are similar in our pursuits, questions, and curiosity, yet different in the what, where, how, and when.
We are all born under a different star, and our DNA and psyches are uniquely carved. There is nothing certain about anything. Of course, it takes a journey like yours and mine to realize that, so here we are.
To this day, I haven’t met a single person whose life has gone according to plan. There are many U-turns and roundabouts, peaks and valleys, storms, and shifting plates in everyone’s life. It’s as if the linear path is a myth. What a relief to accept that and stop putting this crazy pressure on ourselves to know before we even ask the right questions. Imagine becoming comfortable with not knowing and still doing our best.
Animals shed their fur and coats without overthinking it. It’s the natural thing to do. On the other hand, we must carry the burden of shame, guilt, and ambivalence if we don’t meet expectations.
Dear Ellen, you have been doing great. You chose a direction, followed it, and then realized it wasn’t right for you, so you changed course. Isn’t that what a good captain does when she discovers her boat is not made for a certain port? So far, you have been doing your best to keep up with the shifting and changing directions. As you go deeper and ask more questions, the answers will unfold in their due time.
Once, many years ago, I asked my meditation teacher, “How can I serve? What do I do?” She looked at me, kind of amused, and said, “Keep doing what you are doing.” That was not the answer I wanted to hear. It was early on in the US, and I was feeling lost. I couldn’t decide which direction to take and wanted a clear answer about a career. It has taken 30+ years of doing what I am doing to arrive where I am. Life has not been easy but it has been rich and fulfilling, and I am not done yet.
You are a thinker, a caring human being, and an artist. You can’t help but imagine, create, and ask questions. Your life is in good hands.
Just today I was sharing with Tyler that my life before we had kids seems like it was lived by a different person. This leaves me with the question: Who am I?
A question I don’t have the answer to, but one I am actually excited to find. The one thing I do know for sure is that who I am and who I will become are so far from who I was. I know that whoever I become will not be going back to who I was. How could I? Doors close and others open and things happen that change you at your core. I believe you can always walk back through a closed door, but you’re a different person entering that room than you were before. So maybe it’s the same room, with the same things, the same people, the same choices to be made, but now you’re seeing it differently because you’re different.
I’m not sure what parts of me remain to be seen and I’m not even sure how to find those parts, but I guess that’s the journey. Taking the time to pause and find my true self in the quiet moments outside of being a mother, a wife, a professional, a teacher. Who am I when I’m alone with myself? A question I’ve been asking myself since I became self-aware. A question to let linger. A question to hold close. A question to dwell on. A puzzle to solve. An answer to savor.
Sarah, your post reminded me that all of life is about becoming. Once we become one thing, we are already moving on to becoming something new. That harkens back to what Yota wrote about animals shedding their skin. Perhaps if humans did something as obviously representative of the process of change, we would be more aware of where we were going and were we had been. Hmm…?Yes! Savor the asking, the revealing, the living. Thank you for sharing!
Sarah,
Your post resonates with me, as Kim highlighted your poetic take on doors, and being a different person walking back through them. Looking back with the new answers we acquire along the way, yields very different perceptions of who we used to be, or who we thought we wanted to be. I think your question of “who am I when I’m alone with myself” is most pertinent, most raw. It’s a good place to start, in the quest for answers, and it’s also a good place to finish. You always come back to you.
What a great observation: ” I believe you can always walk back through a closed door, but you’re a different person entering that room than you were before. So maybe it’s the same room, with the same things, the same people, the same choices to be made, but now you’re seeing it differently because you’re different.” ~Sarah
I can say with full confidence that this group of women will SEE and RESPOND to the same scenarios of those same rooms differently each time moving forward because we are aware and confident and strive to know our ever-changing identities. Trust yourselves and the natural harmony around you.
Arrrgh! Who am I? Like Groundhog Day I revisit that question almost constantly as I search job boards and classified for my next form of employment. Selling yourself is often demeaning in itself. Convincing others on paper that you are worthy of bing considered for a job one of the most difficult tasks. They want to know who am I. What do I need and want to tell these strangers who are comparing my credentials to those of others they’ve not yet met?
Several years ago when my kids were in elementary school, I was feeling unappreciated and snarky. I found a calculator online in which you select all the roles you hold and it calculates your estimated annual income. Cook, shopper, taxi driver, accountant, nurse, photographer, homework tutor, mechanic, dishwasher, laundress, housekeeper, wood stacker/fire-tender, gardner, seamstress, office manager, party planner – the list went on for a 1-1/2 pages, single spaced, 10pt font. I was worth $230,000 annually. (I know! That seems low. At the time it was more than I was getting paid by my husband and kids – monetarily, at least.) I shared this information at the dinner table, then posted it on the fridge. It yielded some appreciation — a little.
Who we are is who we choose to be. I’m a hard working employee, I’m a mindful and proud Mom, I’m an appreciative and understanding daughter, I’m a partner who supports and listens, I’m a loyal friend. I’m also quirky, efficient, fun, offbeat, flexible. I’m a hiker, a skier, an ice skater, a paddler, a fisherman. So many words to describe! But when was the last time I sat down to reconcile my job description of being me? Hmmmm, there’s an exercise I’d never contemplated! (I’ll let you know how that goes…)
Wow, Kim! When you put it the way you did in the second paragraph, it’s amazing to think of all the things a person does. Occupationally and otherwise. I love the idea of reconciling your job description of being you. I’m very interested in knowing how that goes! Sending you best of luck with your search.
David Whyte’s image of a closed door being leaned against resonates with me. There have been so many doors that felt immovable—things I thought I couldn’t or shouldn’t do. And when I am in that ‘can’t do’ mindset, I am stuck—just leaning but not moving through.
However, once I decide to push a little harder, something shifts. The door opens, as does my mind. Instead of obstacles, I see possibilities. Instead of being stuck, creative thoughts are unleashed. I might not know the outcome, but I get engrossed in the process. I move past inertia and allow myself to explore.
Linda, you seem to know your process of being stuck and regaining movement. How awesome is that! You seem to be able to trust that you will move past inertia, which is a great gift. Inertia then is more of a refueling point than a rut. You don’t seem like, to me, as someone who has ever truly been in a rut. It sounds like you know how exactly how long to linger.
I love the image of you leaning up against a door that you may have considered immovable, and while doing that, the door begins to open along with your mind.
And then, you begin to see possibilities instead of obstacles. What a gift! And although I call it a gift, I know you have worked hard to cultivate that gift. Gifts tend to whither if we don’t water and nurture them.
I admire how willing you are to begin the process even though the outcome is not yet clear.
I am in awe of each of you. How deeply you share and reveal your hearts and experiences—the searching, letting go, moving on, exploring, validating, being curious, accepting, recognizing growth, and so much more.
Becoming is a process. While we change, we also retain parts of who we are. We grow from there, hopefully becoming wiser, more comfortable with who we are, and more fulfilled with what we’re doing and the people we’re surrounded with.
Linda I love that you used the word “becoming” in that way! It reminds me of Michelle Obama’s first novel, so titled, where she says basically the same thing you just did.
“Becoming is never giving up on the idea that there’s more growing to be done.”
I think all of us in this group are perpetually in a state of becoming. As Kim said, we have that awareness of ourselves “and strive to know our ever-changing identities.”
P.S. Highly recommend “Becoming” if anyone is in the market for a new read!
Such wonderful musings from everyone! I have a million thoughts. Where to begin? First, I love that our group includes young and old–I can get really stuck in the present. I remember again what it was like being a new mother, or trying out different professions, putting my heart and soul into being a dancer, a poet, an actor, a teacher, a small business owner, a coach, and on and on, given that I could never figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Kim, I love what you said about the art of carving taking away excess to get at the essence. When I think back on all the stages of my life I see so much that needed to be chipped away–grist for the mill. Sometimes I felt more in control of the chipping, and sometimes just hanging on for dear life. But I think the essential me is actually pretty much the same, with a lot of the rough edges smoothed out. I have all the same flaws but in gentler versions (I hope). I let my good points take center stage more often. I’m happier but still anxious. I’ll probably never figure out what I want to be, and that’s okay (maybe). And, like all of you, I’m always on the lookout for more grist for the mill because it seems the only way to keep refining the essence. I came across this quote today: “You grow because you’re not content not to. You’re like a beaver that chews constantly because if it doesn’t, its teeth grow long and lock.” I definitely don’t want locked teeth! And as long as I’m growing I can look at those doors and make a move.
Dear Kathleen – I absolutely LOVE all that you wrote here that I had to screen shot and save it! Some of what you wrote resonates very much; the rest inspires me and makes me aspire to be like you. And the beaver quote is quote perfect!
No locked teeth … absolutely not! Looking at this group, I don’t think there is a single woman in the room that would tolerate locked teeth or feeling bored and stifled. And, like you said, as long as you are growing you can look at those doors and make a move.
Last summer (2023), I finished a master’s degree, wrapping up nine exhausting, non-stop years of college studies, one 8-week online class at a time, while also working a demanding corporate job. (My son had just gone off to college.) My favorite topic to talk or think about for almost all of my adult life (I’m 56) has been “self-actualization” – the process of realizing your full potential and becoming the best version of yourself (which can be likened to Michelangelo’s quote here). I have always disliked competing with others in every regard, yet I’ve felt inspired to compete with myself, trying to be a tiny better version of myself each day.
Why do I mention this? Because I am tired of constantly chasing “goals,” as important and rewarding and sometimes necessary as they are. This is my first year doing dear Yota’s retreat. I will admit that although I was excited at first, I had trouble this evening getting my head into writing/journaling mode because until leaving my job recently (I worked in communications), my mind was constantly writing, conceptualizing, thinking, and philosophically making sense of … well, everything. It feels almost sacrilegious to say that, seeing that I find such majestic beauty in words and the power of expression.
On a related note, aside from the basic level, I have had to ignore my home for the last many years in order to get my work/schooling done each day. Today I had the best day! I bluetoothed my iPhone to the portable speaker and listened to Pink Floyd’s The Wall album while I cleaned, added soil to my plants, rearranged the house to get ready for the Christmas tree, and did a dozen other things while stopping many times to kiss my dog or throw a toy for him to chase. This may sound like a “chore” day to others, but it felt like a GIFT to me – stepping outside my head and being “creative” around my house. I mean, seriously, can housekeeping be considered a hobby? Because it felt so amazing.
These thoughts circle back to the realization that I am allowing myself to simply BE for what may be the first time in my life. I have decades of personal journal books as evidence of my non-relenting, unforgiving, wrestling quest for… truth, Self, meaning, reasoning, and understanding. I feel resentful (of myself) for caring too much about perfect GPAs and giving so much worry and sacrifice to my job. I have wanted to write a particular book for the last ~15 years and never had the time to stitch it together. One would think that NOW would be the perfect time as I have a few months before beginning a new job search – yet I realize as I type this that I actually FEAR getting back into the motion of mental gymnastics and being married to my keyboard. I worry that I’ve pushed myself too far these last few years and feel exhausted by overachieving ambition right now – to the extent that I think I lack thereof.
Yota suggested to me on last Monday night’s call that I should step into the “eye of the storm” of my life (primarily external family issues) and tackle it head-on. But I actually want to STEP AWAY from it. You know those movies where the guy walks toward the camera and throws the hand grenade behind him, letting the chaos ensue behind him while he goes to enjoy the sunset, perhaps? That’s me right now.
Rosa,
I am so glad you are allowing yourself space and time to just “BE.” That can be so difficult after years of pursuits. I feel my life until recently had been guided by big goals and “what next”s, and my gosh it can be exhausting. Your day of cleaning and organizing your home sounds lovely- not a chore at all in the way you described it! Stepping away from the chaos of what became normal and/or expected, in academic/professional and family life, is a big step. Good for you.
I love that you are giving yourelf the opportunity to do something different and enjoy the process of becoming. You have worked really hard and you have accomplished so much. It’s okay to pause and take it all in.
You have stepped into the eye of the storm. Theoretically, the eye of the storm is the center of a tornado, in which everything is peaceful and calm. Stillness can be found in the center. The family drama is swirling around you, but you are standing still, looking up, and listening to your music. Bravo!
You may like this poem by John O’Donohue from To Bless the Space Between Us
This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.
Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.
If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.
Rosa, I say throw it and don’t look back. There just comes a time when it’s the thing to do, and it sounds like, for you, this is the time. I love Yota’s image of the tornado and the idea of standing calmly in the middle, while not getting swept up in the debris circling you. You have the time and the space to do whatever you want and I hope you maximize this opportunity!
At our Monday night gathering I wrote about how schools and learning were the solid foundation I was formed by. Yet since I retired I have resisted new learning. Perhaps I was exhausted by all the learning I facilitated in my job. Perhaps worn out by the meetings that seemed to go nowhere.
I feel a real need now to learn something new -not quite sure what yet- but I know there are a lot of courses offered by some of the Senior Centers in the area. I also hear Yota’s voice talking about creating with your hands when times get rough. This past week we were decorating the outside of the house for the Holidays and I took our two empty big planter pots and played with different combinations of twinkling lights and greens. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to just use my creativity even in that small way.
The season now lends itself to carving angels! Talk about synchronicity – The one new decoration I couldn’t resist buying this year is a rough carved 3 D angel. I tried to put the photo in but couldn’t get it to insert. Will send it to Yota and let her do her magic!
That’s beautiful Kathy! Thank you for sharing.
I am glad you decided to get outside and play. Working with our hands helps quiet the mind, and we all know what an overactive mind is doing to us, especially these days.
I installed a plugin that allows for photos and other attachments in the comment area. Feel free to share a photo of your planters with he twinkling lights. I love twinkling lights.
I just want to say how utterly blown away I am by this group. We are all over achievers, in the best sense of the word. And here we can let down the burden a bit and come to grips with the cost, and share it. Yota, your loving reminders to send compassion to ourselves is probably the most important thing I’m learning, and the absolute hardest. Thank you everyone! I’m getting very emotional right now as I type this. I think this is a very good sign, and I can feel my teeth getting a bit shorter.
Kathleen, as I read your post I did a mental tally, and yes, it seems this group is comprised of ‘high’ achievers (excuse the correction!). A friend had noted to me that there are two kinds of people, ‘existers’ and ‘livers’. Existers make their checklists, label their food with expiration dates, fill their calendars, helicopter their kids, organize their carefully folded sheets on the shelves. Livers reserve time/adjust to enjoy life and the people in their lives, let their kids explore, leave the clean sheets rolled up in a basket, smell the food to see if it’s fresh. Existers may get a lot done, but seem to question being satisfied, or truly happy. Livers strive to create meaning and fun in what they do, letting go of some obligations and living with the consequences of moving forward. So, ladies, who are we?
I change hats according to what I need in the moment or what the moment asks of me. It took me years to realize that I am both and be okay with that because, let’s face it, society often wants us to be one or the other.
I like my lists and neatly folded sheets—although I may take a day or two to fold them. I like my food fresh and never carry too much inventory, so there is no need to check expiration dates. I always gift myself a new calendar for the year because I love writing things down. Keeping my mess under control allows for a calm environment, which I need. There is too much going on inside, so having a calm environment soothes me and allows me to daydream. I like getting things done because people depend on me, and I don’t like things hanging over my head.
I am sure I have helicoptered my girls at times, but I have also let them explore and do things their way, including dealing with the consequences of their decisions.
On the other hand, I’ve always been a wild card and acted on instinct and sometimes impulse. I moved across an ocean to marry the man I had known for 13 days and corresponded with for 4 months, for crying out loud. Yet, many refuse to see beyond the surface.
I remember when the girls were at Waldorf. One of the teachers did something irresponsible, in my opinion, so I had a conversation with her. She said to me, “You know what is wrong with you? You have no flare for drama!” I almost died laughing. Lady, you know nothing about me. I can eat drama for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still run circles around you. But hey, you do you.
We can live and exist all at once, depending on our temperament, needs, wants, and where we stand. We are multidimensional and can wear many hats at once if we choose to.
I love the image of eating drama – chew you up and spit you out!!~!
Yota, I sooooo agree “We can live and exist all at once, depending on our temperament, needs, wants, and where we stand. We are multidimensional and can wear many hats at once if we choose to.” KNOWING that we ARE multidimensional and to wear the hats WE CHOOSE is the gift to ourselves.
39 Comments
Kim Cartwright
Michelangelo’s quote: “I Saw the Angel in the Marble and I carved until I set it Free” reminds me of the concept of the Uncarved Block as described in The Tao of Pooh. The book begins by describing that harmony naturally occurs and could be found by anyone, but not if you follow the laws of Man which essentially manipulate the world to prevent or remedy discomfort. The more Man interferes the more harmony retreats. So the Uncarved Block is pure and simple and full of possibilities and without arrogance, complexity, and the desire to be clever enough to solve the problems as Man sees them. Life could be fun, experiential, meaningful, and free.
Can I be the Uncarved Block? Why let the should of childhood rhetoric, the imposition of modern culture, the ridicule of peers for coloring outside the lines, the mistrust by those who are jaded by achievement of others, the resistance of my reaction to those who wish to rely on me to make up for their shortcomings – why let those constraints cut into my grain and mold me? Indeed, why let them? Do I let them? If I don’t let them, their constraints will no longer exist in my world. To be happy, to be free, to experience harmony in the natural world which is larger than me and my species, I need to become the Uncarved Block, to open myself to new possibilities.
Ha! As I’m writing, my mind just wandered . . . the art of carving wood, stone, or any other material is taking away the excess to reveal the true essence which lies underneath . . . Just as the Marble was full of possibilities to Michelangelo and out came the Angel.
“Who are we?” Who am I? Only I can carve away the excess to find out. Where to begin?
Sarah Lipscomb
This is beautiful! The idea that we let others and outside influences cut into us and let that mold us instead of us molding ourselves really hits home. It’s so easy to bend to other people’s will and let them take pieces of us, but to find who we truly are, we have to do the carving ourselves.
I also echo your “Where to begin?” Do we start with the ending in mind? Do we carve away piece by piece as we come across what is no longer needed? Do we just start and see where we end up?
Constance Malloy
Kim, I love the Tao of Pooh and your post! The carving away of what gets placed upon us to discover who we are underneath it all is such a wonderful and hopeful idea. Knowing we have the ability to remove that which we do not want is quite powerful. I wish you luck in your self-sculpting.
Yota Schneider
Dear Kim,
I love how you think out loud as you follow the thread to something magical.
From The Uncarved Block, in The Tao of Pooh—pure and simple and full of possibilities — to entertaining the idea of becoming the Uncarved Block and opening yourself to new possibilities, to seeing how “the art of carving wood, stone, or any other material is taking away the excess to reveal the true essence which lies underneath.”
Finally, you see that you are the only one who can carve away the excess to find out what lies beneath. Where do you begin? I believe you already have. This whole life so far has been one of uncarving and becoming. Only these days, you can see what you’ve been doing all along.
Constance Malloy
I look behind me and see the many stories, seasons, and
landscapes that have altered me.
This was my day yesterday. I found myself doing this with more acceptance than I would have months ago. For many years, I have struggled with the inability to get my writing off the ground in, not surprisingly, the way my 20 yo self imagined my future. But at 20, I could not imagine that that following year my father would be shot, in a park, with another woman (who was neither my mother nor his current wife). The other woman died. My father lived. In fact, he just passed away this past May. I had no way of knowing how this event, and my parents divorce a few years earlier, would completely upend in my life.
When I look back on the years since, I have only viewed how I had been stymied. How all my forward momentum in my youth was interrupted and retarded. But at the age of 23, I walked into a therapist’s office and told the woman who would spend five years on my journey with me, that there was no way I could have been raised in my parents’ home, endured the events of my early 20s, and think that I knew how to lead a healthy, functional life.
Yesterday, I fully realized that on that day, I walked through a door that led to my actual desires, which were not writing or dancing or teaching, but instead, my desires and ambitions were about becoming a healthy, fully functioning adult. All my energy and effort went into this; and yesterday, upon owning this has always been my first and foremost goal for my life, I realized that I have succeeded far beyond any expectations that my younger self could have imagined. Mainly, I’m rewarded with what I can only call, magical, relationships with my husband and daughter.
With this awareness, all my angst regarding my perceived lacks, those things that my birth family trauma and dysfunction had robbed me of, was a false angst. Because, as I have now owned, they were not my first pursuit. Stabilizing the ground under my feet has been my priority. I also came to realize yesterday, that while I have been wabbling along, I’m much like a Weeble. I wabble, but I haven’t fallen down.
Today, I am celebrating (and tearing up as I write this) because my life has been so rich and full: and, until now, I simply have not allowed that in. In spite of everything, I taught children how to make their bodies and hearts dance for 25 years, and I have two published books. Along with that, I’m blessed to not have to consider making a career out of my writing. And next Sunday, at new children’s bookshop that has opened in my area, I’m doing an Angelina Ballerina story time in which a former student of mine is bringing her daughter to, and the sister and niece of another former student are attending. I’m so excited!!!
For the first time in my life, I’m finding peace in all that has been.
Ellen Hanley
Constance,
The maturity that you brought into your therapist’s office at 23 is commendable- to know that you needed and desired to start at your foundation, before addressing the other areas of your life. It is really amazing how long it takes and how difficult it truly is to work through childhood trauma and familial dysfunction. You are doing the hard work and doing it with compassion for yourself. That is beautiful to witness.
Sarah Lipscomb
Constance, your openness and vulnerability is inspiring! Reading this, I am so happy for you and the acceptance and validation you are showing yourself. Slay queen! You deserve to celebrate this peace.
Rosa Conti
Dear Constance – I literally leaned in towards the screen as I began reading your post here. It is so beautifully and authentically shared; it touched me deeply. Thank you for this. I’m truly happy to read your last paragraph! What an enormous and positive influence your new perception (realization) on the many gifts you’ve given to yourself and others. You inspire me!!
Yota Schneider
Dear Constance,
To read about your realization that your life has indeed been rich and full and you are beginning to make peace with a past that is gaining speed in moving into the back mirror, brings tears to my eyes. You have touched many lives, and as you begin putting yourself out there again, they are coming to celebrate and support you.
Enjoy every moment next Sunday! I can’t wait to hear how it went.
Ellen Hanley
Sorry, I must have messed up my posts somehow and replied to Constance’s… I can’t find a way to delete the duplicates.
I am not the same person as I was. This is so true, every day. Yes, Kim, where to begin indeed…
As a child, I wanted to be an architect. I loved making and analyzing floor plans, but my high school CADD teacher was lackadaisical at best in his instructions and grading. I left those classes with an inflated sense of ability. In my first semester in architecture college, I was rudely awakened to my ill-preparedness and my sheltered views of what architecture even meant. I struggled to find my footing, and had to change course- move back home, and start over on a different degree, a different direction.
My perception of my present self at the time, and my future self, was altered. It was a shedding of part of my identity up until that point. While there have been many identity-shifting moments in my life, that was one of the most poignant, because I went from thinking so avidly that “this is what I’m gonna be when I grow up,” to “what am I going to do, I’m almost grown up!?” It was the first time I was forced to look in a mirror and do some soul-searching.
Life has been a slow process of shedding constraints and expectations that others have of me, and that I have of myself. A falling away of the layers of compounded rock and sediment that make up that Uncarved Block. Sometimes I’m not sure that I am keeping up with these internal changes.
Constance Malloy
Ellen, Sometimes the internal changes come so fast. As well as sometimes the external influences do. Both can cause a kind of mental and emotional whiplash. Been there many times. Perhaps it is rest that you need at this time. A rest from the thinking about it all. And maybe in the resting you will discover the shape inside your Uncarved Block. If what I’m witnessing in the group is the uncarved block, it is full of much beauty and compassion, which indicates to me brilliant, bright shining light waiting inside.
Ellen Hanley
I definitely agree with you, rest is so healing and I know I don’t get enough of it. I’m working on that…
Yota Schneider
The more I read everyone’s comments, the more I realize how similar and different we all are. We are similar in our pursuits, questions, and curiosity, yet different in the what, where, how, and when.
We are all born under a different star, and our DNA and psyches are uniquely carved. There is nothing certain about anything. Of course, it takes a journey like yours and mine to realize that, so here we are.
To this day, I haven’t met a single person whose life has gone according to plan. There are many U-turns and roundabouts, peaks and valleys, storms, and shifting plates in everyone’s life. It’s as if the linear path is a myth. What a relief to accept that and stop putting this crazy pressure on ourselves to know before we even ask the right questions. Imagine becoming comfortable with not knowing and still doing our best.
Animals shed their fur and coats without overthinking it. It’s the natural thing to do. On the other hand, we must carry the burden of shame, guilt, and ambivalence if we don’t meet expectations.
Dear Ellen, you have been doing great. You chose a direction, followed it, and then realized it wasn’t right for you, so you changed course. Isn’t that what a good captain does when she discovers her boat is not made for a certain port? So far, you have been doing your best to keep up with the shifting and changing directions. As you go deeper and ask more questions, the answers will unfold in their due time.
Once, many years ago, I asked my meditation teacher, “How can I serve? What do I do?” She looked at me, kind of amused, and said, “Keep doing what you are doing.” That was not the answer I wanted to hear. It was early on in the US, and I was feeling lost. I couldn’t decide which direction to take and wanted a clear answer about a career. It has taken 30+ years of doing what I am doing to arrive where I am. Life has not been easy but it has been rich and fulfilling, and I am not done yet.
You are a thinker, a caring human being, and an artist. You can’t help but imagine, create, and ask questions. Your life is in good hands.
Sarah Lipscomb
” I am not the same person I was.”
Just today I was sharing with Tyler that my life before we had kids seems like it was lived by a different person. This leaves me with the question: Who am I?
A question I don’t have the answer to, but one I am actually excited to find. The one thing I do know for sure is that who I am and who I will become are so far from who I was. I know that whoever I become will not be going back to who I was. How could I? Doors close and others open and things happen that change you at your core. I believe you can always walk back through a closed door, but you’re a different person entering that room than you were before. So maybe it’s the same room, with the same things, the same people, the same choices to be made, but now you’re seeing it differently because you’re different.
I’m not sure what parts of me remain to be seen and I’m not even sure how to find those parts, but I guess that’s the journey. Taking the time to pause and find my true self in the quiet moments outside of being a mother, a wife, a professional, a teacher. Who am I when I’m alone with myself? A question I’ve been asking myself since I became self-aware. A question to let linger. A question to hold close. A question to dwell on. A puzzle to solve. An answer to savor.
Constance Malloy
Sarah, your post reminded me that all of life is about becoming. Once we become one thing, we are already moving on to becoming something new. That harkens back to what Yota wrote about animals shedding their skin. Perhaps if humans did something as obviously representative of the process of change, we would be more aware of where we were going and were we had been. Hmm…?Yes! Savor the asking, the revealing, the living. Thank you for sharing!
Ellen Hanley
Sarah,
Your post resonates with me, as Kim highlighted your poetic take on doors, and being a different person walking back through them. Looking back with the new answers we acquire along the way, yields very different perceptions of who we used to be, or who we thought we wanted to be. I think your question of “who am I when I’m alone with myself” is most pertinent, most raw. It’s a good place to start, in the quest for answers, and it’s also a good place to finish. You always come back to you.
Kim Cartwright
What a great observation: ” I believe you can always walk back through a closed door, but you’re a different person entering that room than you were before. So maybe it’s the same room, with the same things, the same people, the same choices to be made, but now you’re seeing it differently because you’re different.” ~Sarah
I can say with full confidence that this group of women will SEE and RESPOND to the same scenarios of those same rooms differently each time moving forward because we are aware and confident and strive to know our ever-changing identities. Trust yourselves and the natural harmony around you.
Kim Cartwright
Arrrgh! Who am I? Like Groundhog Day I revisit that question almost constantly as I search job boards and classified for my next form of employment. Selling yourself is often demeaning in itself. Convincing others on paper that you are worthy of bing considered for a job one of the most difficult tasks. They want to know who am I. What do I need and want to tell these strangers who are comparing my credentials to those of others they’ve not yet met?
Several years ago when my kids were in elementary school, I was feeling unappreciated and snarky. I found a calculator online in which you select all the roles you hold and it calculates your estimated annual income. Cook, shopper, taxi driver, accountant, nurse, photographer, homework tutor, mechanic, dishwasher, laundress, housekeeper, wood stacker/fire-tender, gardner, seamstress, office manager, party planner – the list went on for a 1-1/2 pages, single spaced, 10pt font. I was worth $230,000 annually. (I know! That seems low. At the time it was more than I was getting paid by my husband and kids – monetarily, at least.) I shared this information at the dinner table, then posted it on the fridge. It yielded some appreciation — a little.
Who we are is who we choose to be. I’m a hard working employee, I’m a mindful and proud Mom, I’m an appreciative and understanding daughter, I’m a partner who supports and listens, I’m a loyal friend. I’m also quirky, efficient, fun, offbeat, flexible. I’m a hiker, a skier, an ice skater, a paddler, a fisherman. So many words to describe! But when was the last time I sat down to reconcile my job description of being me? Hmmmm, there’s an exercise I’d never contemplated! (I’ll let you know how that goes…)
Constance Malloy
Wow, Kim! When you put it the way you did in the second paragraph, it’s amazing to think of all the things a person does. Occupationally and otherwise. I love the idea of reconciling your job description of being you. I’m very interested in knowing how that goes! Sending you best of luck with your search.
Linda Samuels
David Whyte’s image of a closed door being leaned against resonates with me. There have been so many doors that felt immovable—things I thought I couldn’t or shouldn’t do. And when I am in that ‘can’t do’ mindset, I am stuck—just leaning but not moving through.
However, once I decide to push a little harder, something shifts. The door opens, as does my mind. Instead of obstacles, I see possibilities. Instead of being stuck, creative thoughts are unleashed. I might not know the outcome, but I get engrossed in the process. I move past inertia and allow myself to explore.
Constance Malloy
Linda, you seem to know your process of being stuck and regaining movement. How awesome is that! You seem to be able to trust that you will move past inertia, which is a great gift. Inertia then is more of a refueling point than a rut. You don’t seem like, to me, as someone who has ever truly been in a rut. It sounds like you know how exactly how long to linger.
Yota Schneider
Dear Linda,
I love the image of you leaning up against a door that you may have considered immovable, and while doing that, the door begins to open along with your mind.
And then, you begin to see possibilities instead of obstacles. What a gift! And although I call it a gift, I know you have worked hard to cultivate that gift. Gifts tend to whither if we don’t water and nurture them.
I admire how willing you are to begin the process even though the outcome is not yet clear.
Linda Samuels
I am in awe of each of you. How deeply you share and reveal your hearts and experiences—the searching, letting go, moving on, exploring, validating, being curious, accepting, recognizing growth, and so much more.
Becoming is a process. While we change, we also retain parts of who we are. We grow from there, hopefully becoming wiser, more comfortable with who we are, and more fulfilled with what we’re doing and the people we’re surrounded with.
Sarah Lipscomb
Linda I love that you used the word “becoming” in that way! It reminds me of Michelle Obama’s first novel, so titled, where she says basically the same thing you just did.
“Becoming is never giving up on the idea that there’s more growing to be done.”
I think all of us in this group are perpetually in a state of becoming. As Kim said, we have that awareness of ourselves “and strive to know our ever-changing identities.”
P.S. Highly recommend “Becoming” if anyone is in the market for a new read!
Kathleen Ellis
Such wonderful musings from everyone! I have a million thoughts. Where to begin? First, I love that our group includes young and old–I can get really stuck in the present. I remember again what it was like being a new mother, or trying out different professions, putting my heart and soul into being a dancer, a poet, an actor, a teacher, a small business owner, a coach, and on and on, given that I could never figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Kim, I love what you said about the art of carving taking away excess to get at the essence. When I think back on all the stages of my life I see so much that needed to be chipped away–grist for the mill. Sometimes I felt more in control of the chipping, and sometimes just hanging on for dear life. But I think the essential me is actually pretty much the same, with a lot of the rough edges smoothed out. I have all the same flaws but in gentler versions (I hope). I let my good points take center stage more often. I’m happier but still anxious. I’ll probably never figure out what I want to be, and that’s okay (maybe). And, like all of you, I’m always on the lookout for more grist for the mill because it seems the only way to keep refining the essence. I came across this quote today: “You grow because you’re not content not to. You’re like a beaver that chews constantly because if it doesn’t, its teeth grow long and lock.” I definitely don’t want locked teeth! And as long as I’m growing I can look at those doors and make a move.
Rosa Conti
Dear Kathleen – I absolutely LOVE all that you wrote here that I had to screen shot and save it! Some of what you wrote resonates very much; the rest inspires me and makes me aspire to be like you. And the beaver quote is quote perfect!
Yota Schneider
I love the quote, Kathleen. Thank you!
No locked teeth … absolutely not! Looking at this group, I don’t think there is a single woman in the room that would tolerate locked teeth or feeling bored and stifled. And, like you said, as long as you are growing you can look at those doors and make a move.
Constance Malloy
Kathleen, this just made me so happy. Thank you!!!!!
Rosa Conti
Last summer (2023), I finished a master’s degree, wrapping up nine exhausting, non-stop years of college studies, one 8-week online class at a time, while also working a demanding corporate job. (My son had just gone off to college.) My favorite topic to talk or think about for almost all of my adult life (I’m 56) has been “self-actualization” – the process of realizing your full potential and becoming the best version of yourself (which can be likened to Michelangelo’s quote here). I have always disliked competing with others in every regard, yet I’ve felt inspired to compete with myself, trying to be a tiny better version of myself each day.
Why do I mention this? Because I am tired of constantly chasing “goals,” as important and rewarding and sometimes necessary as they are. This is my first year doing dear Yota’s retreat. I will admit that although I was excited at first, I had trouble this evening getting my head into writing/journaling mode because until leaving my job recently (I worked in communications), my mind was constantly writing, conceptualizing, thinking, and philosophically making sense of … well, everything. It feels almost sacrilegious to say that, seeing that I find such majestic beauty in words and the power of expression.
On a related note, aside from the basic level, I have had to ignore my home for the last many years in order to get my work/schooling done each day. Today I had the best day! I bluetoothed my iPhone to the portable speaker and listened to Pink Floyd’s The Wall album while I cleaned, added soil to my plants, rearranged the house to get ready for the Christmas tree, and did a dozen other things while stopping many times to kiss my dog or throw a toy for him to chase. This may sound like a “chore” day to others, but it felt like a GIFT to me – stepping outside my head and being “creative” around my house. I mean, seriously, can housekeeping be considered a hobby? Because it felt so amazing.
These thoughts circle back to the realization that I am allowing myself to simply BE for what may be the first time in my life. I have decades of personal journal books as evidence of my non-relenting, unforgiving, wrestling quest for… truth, Self, meaning, reasoning, and understanding. I feel resentful (of myself) for caring too much about perfect GPAs and giving so much worry and sacrifice to my job. I have wanted to write a particular book for the last ~15 years and never had the time to stitch it together. One would think that NOW would be the perfect time as I have a few months before beginning a new job search – yet I realize as I type this that I actually FEAR getting back into the motion of mental gymnastics and being married to my keyboard. I worry that I’ve pushed myself too far these last few years and feel exhausted by overachieving ambition right now – to the extent that I think I lack thereof.
Yota suggested to me on last Monday night’s call that I should step into the “eye of the storm” of my life (primarily external family issues) and tackle it head-on. But I actually want to STEP AWAY from it. You know those movies where the guy walks toward the camera and throws the hand grenade behind him, letting the chaos ensue behind him while he goes to enjoy the sunset, perhaps? That’s me right now.
Ellen Hanley
Rosa,
I am so glad you are allowing yourself space and time to just “BE.” That can be so difficult after years of pursuits. I feel my life until recently had been guided by big goals and “what next”s, and my gosh it can be exhausting. Your day of cleaning and organizing your home sounds lovely- not a chore at all in the way you described it! Stepping away from the chaos of what became normal and/or expected, in academic/professional and family life, is a big step. Good for you.
Yota Schneider
I love that you are giving yourelf the opportunity to do something different and enjoy the process of becoming. You have worked really hard and you have accomplished so much. It’s okay to pause and take it all in.
You have stepped into the eye of the storm. Theoretically, the eye of the storm is the center of a tornado, in which everything is peaceful and calm. Stillness can be found in the center. The family drama is swirling around you, but you are standing still, looking up, and listening to your music. Bravo!
You may like this poem by John O’Donohue from To Bless the Space Between Us
This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.
Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.
If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.
Constance Malloy
Rosa, I say throw it and don’t look back. There just comes a time when it’s the thing to do, and it sounds like, for you, this is the time. I love Yota’s image of the tornado and the idea of standing calmly in the middle, while not getting swept up in the debris circling you. You have the time and the space to do whatever you want and I hope you maximize this opportunity!
Kathleen Lauterbach
At our Monday night gathering I wrote about how schools and learning were the solid foundation I was formed by. Yet since I retired I have resisted new learning. Perhaps I was exhausted by all the learning I facilitated in my job. Perhaps worn out by the meetings that seemed to go nowhere.
I feel a real need now to learn something new -not quite sure what yet- but I know there are a lot of courses offered by some of the Senior Centers in the area. I also hear Yota’s voice talking about creating with your hands when times get rough. This past week we were decorating the outside of the house for the Holidays and I took our two empty big planter pots and played with different combinations of twinkling lights and greens. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to just use my creativity even in that small way.
The season now lends itself to carving angels! Talk about synchronicity – The one new decoration I couldn’t resist buying this year is a rough carved 3 D angel. I tried to put the photo in but couldn’t get it to insert. Will send it to Yota and let her do her magic!
Yota Schneider
That’s beautiful Kathy! Thank you for sharing.
I am glad you decided to get outside and play. Working with our hands helps quiet the mind, and we all know what an overactive mind is doing to us, especially these days.
I installed a plugin that allows for photos and other attachments in the comment area. Feel free to share a photo of your planters with he twinkling lights. I love twinkling lights.
Constance Malloy
Kathy, I love the angel. Thank you for sharing it. Good for you for playing and creating today. That can never be a bad thing!
Kathleen Ellis
I just want to say how utterly blown away I am by this group. We are all over achievers, in the best sense of the word. And here we can let down the burden a bit and come to grips with the cost, and share it. Yota, your loving reminders to send compassion to ourselves is probably the most important thing I’m learning, and the absolute hardest. Thank you everyone! I’m getting very emotional right now as I type this. I think this is a very good sign, and I can feel my teeth getting a bit shorter.
Kim Cartwright
Kathleen, as I read your post I did a mental tally, and yes, it seems this group is comprised of ‘high’ achievers (excuse the correction!). A friend had noted to me that there are two kinds of people, ‘existers’ and ‘livers’. Existers make their checklists, label their food with expiration dates, fill their calendars, helicopter their kids, organize their carefully folded sheets on the shelves. Livers reserve time/adjust to enjoy life and the people in their lives, let their kids explore, leave the clean sheets rolled up in a basket, smell the food to see if it’s fresh. Existers may get a lot done, but seem to question being satisfied, or truly happy. Livers strive to create meaning and fun in what they do, letting go of some obligations and living with the consequences of moving forward. So, ladies, who are we?
Yota Schneider
What a great question, Kim!
Frankly, I am both.
I change hats according to what I need in the moment or what the moment asks of me. It took me years to realize that I am both and be okay with that because, let’s face it, society often wants us to be one or the other.
I like my lists and neatly folded sheets—although I may take a day or two to fold them. I like my food fresh and never carry too much inventory, so there is no need to check expiration dates. I always gift myself a new calendar for the year because I love writing things down. Keeping my mess under control allows for a calm environment, which I need. There is too much going on inside, so having a calm environment soothes me and allows me to daydream. I like getting things done because people depend on me, and I don’t like things hanging over my head.
I am sure I have helicoptered my girls at times, but I have also let them explore and do things their way, including dealing with the consequences of their decisions.
On the other hand, I’ve always been a wild card and acted on instinct and sometimes impulse. I moved across an ocean to marry the man I had known for 13 days and corresponded with for 4 months, for crying out loud. Yet, many refuse to see beyond the surface.
I remember when the girls were at Waldorf. One of the teachers did something irresponsible, in my opinion, so I had a conversation with her. She said to me, “You know what is wrong with you? You have no flare for drama!” I almost died laughing. Lady, you know nothing about me. I can eat drama for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still run circles around you. But hey, you do you.
We can live and exist all at once, depending on our temperament, needs, wants, and where we stand. We are multidimensional and can wear many hats at once if we choose to.
Kim Cartwright
I love the image of eating drama – chew you up and spit you out!!~!
Yota, I sooooo agree “We can live and exist all at once, depending on our temperament, needs, wants, and where we stand. We are multidimensional and can wear many hats at once if we choose to.” KNOWING that we ARE multidimensional and to wear the hats WE CHOOSE is the gift to ourselves.