Dehiscence

When “The Sketchbook Project” tour ended last week after six months, I assumed my book would be archived in the Brooklyn Art Library, retiring for good from life on the road.  I was surprised to discover this is not the case.  The mixed media work I submitted for Art House Coop’s collaborative, flagship global art project was one of 1,000 sketchbooks selected for the inaugural “A Landmark & A Mission” tour starting November 2^nd.  Can you stand it?   The curator for this exhibit hand-selected my book from the 22,000 books representing 130 countries in the permanent collection. I’m a little overwhelmed, to say the least. You can read more here: http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2012/09/a-landmark-a-mission-colossal-partners-with-the-sketchbook-project-to-create-a-mobile-library-tour/

I poured my soul into that sketchbook.  In fact there were times when I hesitated, thinking maybe I had gone too far, maybe parts of the work are too personal for public consumption.  But something made me mail it anyway.  Maybe it was a need to be heard.  It felt like such a brave, almost reckless act.  It still does.  I put it out there in hopes it would lead me to my purpose.

Purpose is puzzling.  Some of us search for our purpose, but you don’t find her when you go looking.  She finds you.  It happens when you allow yourself to be, well, to be you.  Purpose comes out of hiding when you find the courage to bare your soul.

If anybody out there is watching the television show “Nashville”, there was a great example of this in last week’s episode.  A very talented amateur is coerced into recording a song she’s written. It is one of the most beautiful, soulful pieces of music I’ve ever heard.  When she sings the duet with the really handsome guy who is secretly in love with her, they are magical.  But she can’t sing it in the studio.  She’s completely intimidated by the watchful eyes of everyone surrounding her.   After she bails in embarrassment her boyfriend explains that it’s not about her.  She is the instrument through which her unique and intimate message makes it into the world.  If she thinks about it in those terms, she’ll find the courage to sing.

Wow.  He is so right.  Or rather the screenwriter who scripted his lines is right. We’re all put here to see something, or articulate something, or act on something that no one else views in quite the same way.  We’re the instrument sent to deliver a message no one else can. That’s our purpose.

Purpose is kind of spiritual in a way, but I did find a somewhat secular version of this idea in a recent HBR blog called “How to Let Your Purpose Find You”. Here’s the full post:  http://blogs.hbr.org/haque/2012/10/how_to_let_your_purpose_find_y.html. I have to say this is a tough read; I’ve gone through it three times.  I don’t know if it’s the author’s writing style or the fact that the concept is so abstruse.  But he says that we should do four things to pave the way for our purpose to find us.  Here’s my translation.

“Be uncool enough to love”. I love this one because it’s not for chickens.  He’s talking about big, say it out loud love, not just to your significant other or your kids, but to the world. To me this means letting some of the real you soak into your professional or public persona.  So here’s an example before you freak out thinking you need to kiss people at work or something.  This guy on my team resigned this week.  I’ve had to send no less than three communications on this, strategically timed so that all the stakeholders heard about it in the appropriate order.  Each time I was challenged to say something a little different, but I wanted it to sound real, not the standard clinical-speak thanking the guy for his service or a cut and paste of the previous announcement.  I crafted personal messages.  Tonight I got an e-mail from him thanking me for the way I’m handling his departure. I’ve been saying goodbye to him in a way no other manager ever has or will.  Uncool?  Maybe. Scary?  Absolutely. But it makes it all matter. 

Allow yourself to experience heartbreak. Not the kind that comes from a broken relationship, but the all-encompassing feeling of grief that comes when you experience something completely unjust.  Whether it happens to you or someone else, it leaves you so changed you’re absolutely compelled to take action in support of a cause that truly matters.  For me, it’s become fighting for inclusion in the work place. I have allowed myself to feel the crushing hurt that comes with admitting I am collateral damage in this, and now I simply have to act. Without my own personal pain I don’t know that I would have found this. And I can make a difference for a whole lot of people.

Let yourself fail, get beat up and bruised.  People who sail through life on easy street, always taking the safe route to guarantee they’ll win, they don’t find their purpose.  It’s not until the undertow pulls you beneath the surface and leaves you fighting for air, that you can truly appreciate the smooth sailing. Take a risk.  You will survive. You’ll thrive.

And what truly matters evolves over time.  Purpose cannot be rushed.  And this makes sense.  It takes time to rid yourself of inhibitions and really put it all out there.  Purpose won’t find you until she’s sure you can cut it.  She wants to be heard and has got to know you’ll follow through.

The deacon who prepared both of my boys for confirmation once gave a homily that haunts me.  He tells the story of a little girl who somehow got lost in the woods on an outing with her father.  He was panic-stricken, as any of us would be, and searched high and low for her.  She had discovered a clearing, planting herself right out there in the open, intent on waiting for him. She had to have been just as scared as he was, but she was open to allowing him to come to her, with all the faith and patience in the world. It was hours before they were finally reunited, and when they were, the first words out of the girl’s mouth were “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I knew you’d find me.”  She put herself in the great wide open for all to see, and what really mattered found her. 

Real people write the scripts and highly emotional songs for television dramas like  “Nashville”.  There have got to be real people who are brave and willing to breathe life into our relationships.  That’s purpose.

Let someone have a look at your sketchbook.


In your heart in your head in your
arms in your bed under your skin

Til there's no way to know where
you end and where I begin

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through
I only wanna move when you move

I wanna breathe out when you
breathe in then I wanna fade into you

--Fade Into You