The Direction of Intention

568. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

If you don’t count the time I sobbed in a restaurant with Linda Margules, my first public meltdown happened in a shoe store. Shoes have always been problematic for me; I’d rather not wear them at all. I feel as though I am suffocating when I wear shoes. Seriously. I’ve learned to wear clogs and boots sometimes work, too. The key is removability. If I can kick them off in a moment or less, I can wear them. I was always in trouble as a kid because I wore holes in my socks almost immediately.

My meltdown happened at the dawn of my work in corporate America. My friends and loved ones felt that I should, at long last, own some “grown up” clothes. Lora took me shopping and she and Smokey Sally helped me find a few suits. I even bought a tie (confession: I wore the tie once because I felt I had to since I bought it but once it was no longer around my neck I conveniently lost it. Ties are like shoes…). And, since I now had suits, I needed a pair of lace-up shoes.

I knew I was in trouble the moment I entered the store. The place was stuffy and smelled of leather and polish. I couldn’t breathe. The panic was almost immediate though I was able to suppress it until I went down an aisle. I was surrounded by lace up shoes. Lora was talking to me, showing me shoes that she liked but I could no longer understand verbal communication; it was as if her sound track was too slow for the words to take shape. My temples started pounding and I couldn’t make decisions. I kept looking at shoes and all I could see were torture devices, tight prisons, concrete. I know my eyes were darting about, looking for escape because I could see the concern descend on Lora’s face. I think she was asking me what was wrong. I fled. I don’t know if I knocked over other customers or leaped over stacks of shoes; I have no memory of my exit. The next thing I knew I was standing in the street, hyperventilating.

Apparently my identity is invested in my feet. The best advice anyone ever gave me came from a financial advisor. I showed up to work with his team and I was wearing one of my new suits (and clogs). As we left the building at the end of the day he made an observation. He said, “Your clothes can’t mask who you are. You are an artist. You are an unmade bed. That’s why we wanted you. Why don’t you drop the suit and show up as you really are, not as you think we want you to be.” Great advice. I sighed a huge sigh of relief. No shoes necessary.

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556. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Declan Donnellan wrote an amazing book, The Actor and the Target, intended for actors but I return to it again and again as the lessons are as applicable to life as they are to the stage. Here’s the bit I read today:

“’Who am I?’ is often the first question asked in creating a character but it can be unhelpful. Trying to answer ‘Who am I?’ is a lifetime’s work for an individual, and indeed the more we discover ourselves, the more we realize that we don’t know ourselves at all. If, then, we cannot properly answer the question about ourselves, how can we possibly answer it about someone else? ‘Who am I?’ is an Everest of a question….”

He continues:

“’Who would I like to be?’ is more useful because it is implies an answer that moves. ‘Who would I like to be?’ is even more useful when asked with a near opposite such as: ‘Who am I afraid I might be?’”

The question, “Who am I?” implies that you are singular, that you are one containable, knowable being. It reduces you to an outcome; static and immovable. I love Declan Donnellan’s insight into the better question: “Who would I like to be?” He writes that it’s more useful because it moves. It is an exploration, a question. It assumes a creation, a fluid changeable dynamic process of discovery. There is no outcome. Nothing is absolute.

When feeling lost, we say, “I don’t know who I am.” Yes. Exactly. How powerful might we become if we assumed that life was not about defining ourselves as fixed, as this or that, but discovering each day the infinite fluid possibilities of an unknowable being. The next time you feel lost, instead of trying to be found, engage in the playful creation of “Who would I like to be today?”

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