For the retreat, I developed something new, allowing myself to feel my way through the content of a class rather than think; what did I want people to learn? How could I make it easier for them to get from Point A to Point B? How could I help to transform the negative self-talk I heard not only during the weekend, but from artists and crafters along my teaching travels?
This happened just after the hike and short nap I posted about yesterday, but I still felt self-conscious. It's hard to stand in front of a room of people, of women who have become friends, and teach. Fear grips me - what if they don't like it? What if my message doesn't come across? What if, what if, what if!!
I need to learn to Trust the Process. I heard that going around the room as my students reached the awkward stage, when they were let go to start finding themselves on the page (once the instruction portion was over), and I found it so easy to remind them that it would be okay, that if they kept going, experimenting, drawing, painting -- if they kept going, it would turn out wonderful. Why do I find it so hard to follow my own advice?
Which is funny, because I told them to imagine the women they were painting their best friends. What would you say to her if she said she was doing things wrong, hadn't accomplished much, was too overweight, too thin, too this or that or not just right? You'd comfort her! So comfort YOU!
I adore these. I can look at each and know exactly who painted each. I can see their personalities jump off the page, see all the colors they love, how some are wild and some are inside the lines, still learning to break the rules. And to think, they didn't like painting, or never thought they'd be able to draw!
Looking over them makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, reminding me why I go up there, every time, vulnerable and frightened, but knowing we all need to Trust the Process.
