Life is set up for partnerships. Society’s underlying message is that we should all have a mate, a significant other, our “person” who we commit to being with on this journey. Being without a partner somehow feels odd, like something is missing. In the event circumstances leave us standing alone, many of us make quick work of partnering up again. The notion is that two is better than one. Romantic sentiments like “you complete me” leave us swooning and salivating for that person who will make us whole.
Ran Ortner, an artist recently interviewed in The Sun magazine, paints a different picture. I do not know Ortner’s work, but I was drawn to the article titled “Water, Water Everywhere: Ran Ortner’s Love Affair With The Sea”. He creates enormous canvases depicting the many faces of the ocean. He has spent the past 30 years alone either working in his studio or surfing.
The crux of the message is that in order for art to be any good, it requires that the artist become who she really is in her work. Ortner asserts that when we are able to get to what’s intimately personal in ourselves, the most tender and raw places at our core, we get to what is universally personal. This is how we connect. I believe this concept transcends art. That in order to connect and give fully all that we have to offer, we need to be highly personal in everything we do.
Ortner believes, however; that most of us are only able to create extraordinarily personal work when we are alone, stripped bare of the disguises we put on for others. According to Ortner, you’re not truly yourself unless you’re alone.
We all have the propensity to alter ourselves, maybe only ever so slightly, but alter nonetheless, when we are with others. We become a little less of who we are and a little more of who we think others want us to be. It’s nyctinasty: The phenomenon that causes a plant to close up its petals in response to darkness. Our light shines less brightly as we unconsciously filter ourselves to some degree when in the shadow of others.
I have experience in this realm and relate to his theory. I like who I have become as an unmarried person. I don’t know how to qualify the reasons behind it, but being alone has allowed me to put more of myself into everything I do. I feel free to pursue lofty goals that are important solely to me, without fear of criticism or detractors. I can spend as much time as I want honing my work without the guilt of neglecting someone else’s wants, needs or expectations. I don’t feel obligated to ask an opinion or alter my process, content or direction based on someone else’s feedback. I have so much more to show for myself than I ever did when I was married. It’s the most liberating space I’ve ever been in. And it is entirely my own.
Could I still make valuable contributions in my chosen arenas if I wasn’t alone? Of course, but I could argue they wouldn’t be my best work unless I felt completely comfortable being myself.
Most of us aren’t living a reclusive life. We’re surrounded by others, in relationships with others. What sort of karma or alchemy is required to shed our skin and get personal?
To really be myself I’m discovering I need to be pursuing what I love. Anything else I’m spending time on is just filler. When we’re on track to follow our passions, we’re more engaged, and the very best of us tends to slip out in spite of our natural tendencies to filter. We can’t help ourselves. It’s impossible to bite our tongues.
It also takes confidence; the feeling we project when we know our area of expertise really well. When we’re self-assured we reap affirmation from those around us, which gives us the fuel to push the envelope, to go deeper.
We need an awareness of the instinct to alter our persona for our audience and call ourselves out. There will always be situations where we decide, rightfully so, to proceed with caution, but asking the question each time takes the behavior from involuntary to intentional.
There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t write at least one e-mail or blog post I question. Did I take too much initiative? Did I get too close to a tender spot? Did I elaborate excessively? Have I put a little too much of myself in this message? More and more I’m taking the risk and hitting the send key. I’m sometimes apprehensive when I see a response in my inbox. How will people react to more of me? But it seems every time I open up, I’m rewarded with replies that say things like “thanks for this . . . exactly what I was looking for”.
In sketching class, we’re told to draw what we see, not what we think we see. Looking at a sculpture from a really challenging line of sight, where limbs are foreshortened and key elements we know are supposed to be in play are invisible to the eye, puts that capability to the test. But I find when I really make the effort to capture what I see; the end result is proportioned correctly and looks real. It truly is my best work. The same holds true for opening up and being myself. I am my best self when I stop thinking about how others might want or judge me to be, and just put myself out there. The result is the best me possible.
The great thing is that in my aloneness, I have found the way to make what I touch uniquely mine. I’m following my dreams. I’m beginning to market them to the world. I’m taking brave steps to truly be myself even when I’m not alone, and it’s improving the quality of my work and relationships. I’m making it personal.
I’m also making myself happy - happy enough to know that I don’t need a partner to complete me, but a partner to be with me. How will I know when I’ve met the right man? He’ll be at the convergence of shared interests, physical attraction and that beautiful and undeniable feeling of peace that says I can just be me.
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