I have an inquisitive mind and will ask a thousand questions. I can modulate that when I have to, but my default state is that of questions. Means I can get along with most four year olds easily. Sometimes adults are more challenging because they stop asking about how any of this really works. A deplorable lack of curiosity abounds.
When my nieces Tori and Becca come by they love hanging out in my spare oom and investigating what they find there. They took to the drums, rattles, flute and tingshas. Amazed that I not only let them touch these things and make noise with them but encourage it. I mean hell - that's what they are for - right? And I started to wonder as their parents gently chided them not to break anything, is this how that curiosity dies? I loved the way they jumped in and wailed on the drums. They were fearless and amazingly rhythmic for people who share part of my gene pool. Fierce in a way that most adults can't be anymore - myself included. They were not afraid of looking like a goober or making mistakes. I wonder - When do we lose that and why?
As adult we get caught up in the need to be perfect or to SEEM perfect. That we all have some deep seeded need to look cool, all the while internally telling ourselves we are anything but and hoping no one calls us on it. So, we give up that questing and settle for things we are good at, thereby denying ourselves the chance to discover new things. Gonna let you in on a little secret here - we are all both Joe Cool and Poindexter all the time.
I don't want to limit myself to things I am good at already. I want to find new things that intrigue me, that excite me. To that end I have encouraged myself to explore the place of SUCK, to look like a goober frequently, and to focus less on 'getting it right' than just getting it. For instance - Last winter I bought a bass guitar. My mom's immediate reaction was to ask what I was going to do with it. Was I going to be in a band? My inner critic, who sounds a lot like her, nodded her head in agreement and said 'Yeah what the hell are you gonna do with THAT?' To me that question was so loaded with epic potential failure, that for a while I stopped playing. My final answer is NO. I am not going to be in a band. Isn't it enough that it brings me joy? For my mom and the inner critic that is not reason enough - there needs to be a purpose to it. For me that joy is the sum total of enough-ness. I want to explore strange new world both inner and outer. I want to laugh at my own mistakes, because they are funny. I won't mind if other people laugh too.
Challenging myself to begin and to begin again and again and again. I want to embrace the place of beginner, of beginning, with all that place implies. Allowing myself to look like the goober I am and to be proud of it instead of trying to hide it. I want to begin, right up to the moment they throw my ass into a coffin, ending as a complete beginner.
NB - I may have creatively acquired (read - stole) the word suck-tastic from my friend Fabeku who generates fun words like this all the time. Just one of the many reasons I think he is da bomb.
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