ZOËLAB: THE LIFE AS ART BLOG

 
 
 
 
PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn

Making a Mess

I watched him take the black board eraser, dip it in a bucket of muddy water, and then rub it carefully all over the blackboard. He was, in a sense, cleaning the chalkboard--he was erasing chalk with mud.

ZOËLAB DAY 115

Date of Original Post: December 12, 2012

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Yesterday Emilio was outside working on the patio, something was getting his attention long enough for him to be playing for half an hour by himself, which is a rare occurrence, but it happens. When I saw him working, before I said anything, I just observed for a minute and noticed that his blackboard easel was covered in a thin layer of mud. I also noticed that there were piles of dirt all over the patio floor. I watched him take the black board eraser, dip it in a bucket of muddy water, and then rub it carefully all over the blackboard. He was, in a sense, cleaning the chalkboard--he was erasing chalk with mud. After a minute of working, Emilio suddenly became aware of my presence, he instantly became nervous and said with great concern: “Mamma, don’t mess this up. This is a project I’m working on and I’m not done yet.” He was clearly working hard, because with children, play is work. And yes, he was making an incredible mess of a place that I had been in the process of cleaning and clearing, and the sink in the bathroom was covered in dirt, the soap was encrusted in small rocks and dirt, but I didn’t say anything because I could tell how meaningful his project was to him. And I’ve got to have respect for people’s projects even if they do make a mess--what kind of creativity teacher would I be if I told my students it wasn’t okay to make a mess. Making a mess--whether physical or emotional--is an integral part of creativity. “I said okay, I won’t “mess it up,” (meaning: ‘clean it up.’) “I won’t do anything to until you’re done.” He said “okay, thanks,” and seemed relieved.

Ten minutes later he decided he wanted to go inside, and do something else, so he went to the sink to wash his hands, and when I tried to wash his hands with the soap that he had encrusted, outraged, he said: “No! That soap’s dirty! I don’t want to wash my hands with that soap.” I threw my hands up and sighed. What else could I do but laugh?

The next day, he continued with his project, and warned me still not to clean it up. And I obliged, until Lucas intervened on behalf of the sink. If he got anymore dirt in it it would start to clog. I still hadn’t quite had the heart to clean it up. Instead I took another photo of it today. I also feel I can’t really blame him for thinking it’s okay to make a mess in this room: it’s part pretty bathroom, with a 1920’s porcelain sink, painted mirror and stacking wooden shelves wrapped in chinese newspaper, and part ugly bodega: unpainted cement walls, rough cement floors, with a metal bodega door.

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After the mud project outside, I gave Emilio a project inside: to erase my dry erase board with spray bottle and paper towels which he took to with great concentration.

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ZOELAB 365, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn ZOELAB 365, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

To Do

This is my to do list for the day.

ZOËLAB DAY 99

Date of original post: December 8, 2012

 
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This is my to do list for the day.

One day I made a heading to a list called House Projects, and Emilio drew on it before I ever made the rest of the list. I saved it because I find it beautiful and funny, and also because it’s a reminder that life should not always be about to do lists. I can be a little much with all my to do lists. Sometimes it is better not to accomplish anything and just be. Lately, I have been off balance. Trying to do too much, with too little time to relax, to be in a receptive mode, which is an integral part of the creative process. 

Emilio is is now making to do lists. Sometimes he takes a pen and a piece of paper and says that he needs to make a list. He looks up thinking about what he will put on his list, and then he scribbles word like images on his page. Through imitation, children are the best reflector of our habits.

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ADVICE/HOW TO, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn ADVICE/HOW TO, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

How To Paint A Mural

My third mural project, and my first solo mural in the park in Pescadero. Plus the 16 lessons I learned.

This summer, a man named Carlos Gutierrez decided to organize a mural project in the park across from the school in Pescadero and invited the Baja 100 Artists to participate. His mission is to bring Pescadero more vitality and attention to this little Mexican town, 15 minutes away from the much more famous Todos Santos. I immediately said yes with out knowing what I would do or how I would do it. Then I panicked. What would I do? How would I do it?

Elias Calles Kinder Mural Project 2014

Elias Calles Kinder Mural Project 2014

I do have some previous experience with murals. The first was when I organized the students of the kinder in my town of Elias Calles (less than 100 people) to create a kinder-garden themed mural. Kids as plants, flowers and trees. I did that with out having ever put paint to a wall, in Spanish. It took us a whole school year to do it. It all started in 2014, when Hurricane Odile blew the roof off the outdoor classroom. I had already been volunteering art classes with the kids, and I decided it was time to get the mural project that I had been dreaming of off the ground. It took a category 4 hurricane to stir up my courage. I decided to create a bilingual public storytelling event, Mariposa Night, in Todos Santos, where people would share their stories of the storm, and we would also raise money to fix the school. We didn’t raise enough money to fix the roof, but we did raise enough money to paint the inside and outside of the bodega, which would became their new classroom. And thus my first mural project was born. The next year, I discovered it had been painted over in white. (For more about my experiences with my kinder art project, click here. )

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Last year, for Día de Muertos in Todos Santos, I was invited to particpate in a group mural project headed by Miguel Ochoa (the owner of Hotel Casa Tota across the street) and Michael Cope (painter, gallerist & chef) - to paint the wall of the Cultural Center with a series of Calaveras (skulls). The basic design was given to me—all I had to do was decide on the colors and the details. I worked all day, it was exhausting but exhilarating. I had no idea when I started if I could pull it off, but I did.

But this new mural project was more daunting. I was to come up with my own design in my own section of wall. The overall theme of the project is the town of Pescadero, a small modest fishing town, but instead of going for the ocean theme, I decided to do the garden idea again, featuring only indigenous Baja plants. Ever since I moved here, I have fallen in love with drawing plants. I started the mural two weeks ago, and I will be finishing this weekend. I have been making many mistakes along the way, because my methodology of working is really no methodology. I like to dive in, improvise and learn by all the mistakes I make along the way. My style may not be the most efficient, but I like doing things that way. It makes me feel free and open. So I’ve decided to share with you the top 10 things I learned from this project and share some images of my process.

 
 

Here are my top 16 lessons, many of which I learned the hard way:

  1. Start as early in the morning as possible to beat the sun, the heat and the onlookers.

  2. Bring a snack and plenty of drinking water so you don’t have to have leave your spot when you get hungry and thirsty.

  3. Bring a sunhat and sunglasses and if possible, a large umbrella for shade.

  4. Bring plenty of water & a rag to rinse out your brushes.

  5. You can do a mural with basic house paint in the colors red, blue, yellow, black and white - it’s so fun to mix your own colors!

  6. Make sure you bring cups for mixing paints that are large enough to dip your larger brushes into.

  7. Paint dries darker, so make sure you mix a color slightly lighter.

  8. Be aware if you’re wearing sunglasses with a tint! Make sure you check your colors with sunglasses off! In my case, I was wearing sunglasses with a yellow tint (my personal favorite) All my colors looked better to me with through my sunglasses.

  9. A black sharpie looks fantastic if you like to create black outlines, like I do. It’s much easier to manage than a thin paintbrush. Make sure you bring a few, as they get damaged with a bumpy wall.

  10. If you do use a black sharpie, make sure you draw after you paint, otherwise you will have to draw twice.

  11. Paint your background first! Otherwise you will have to painstakingly have to paint around every little detail. (Can you tell I learned this the hard way?)

  12. Bring a pencil too - to sketch out the mural

  13. The natural bumps of a wall add nice character to your lines, rather than going for perfect and straight. Let go of perfectionism!

  14. Make sure you pick a subject that you love and if you don’t know how to paint something, don’t be afraid to copy from photographs or even other drawings.

  15. Use actual living plants (or people or things) for inspiration, if you can, and if not, bring photos or drawings.

  16. If painting intimidates you, remember painting a mural can just be like drawing on a wall and then filling in your lines with paint.

  17. Don’t worry if you make a mistake. You can easily paint over anything and do it again!

Happy painting!


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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Zoë + The Mischief: Notes from California Mini Tour

Here are the photos and notes from our California minitour July 2018.

 

For several years now, I've held a dream in my heart. That my band would go on tour - first to the US, and eventually other parts of the world. Now that Zoë + The Mischief is a duo - me on vocals and guitar, and Lucas on drums, the idea of a tour is less daunting. Just us, and Emilio, in a vehicle, hopefully, a van.

After I told Lucas about my dream of going on tour, he decided to make it a shared dream, and to do everything he could to help me make it happen. (Yes, I married well and I am grateful.) So this summer, we decided to drive up from southern Baja to do a mini tour in California, as a trial run. It was a bit of a last minute decision, so we didn't have a lot of time to plan. We had to scrounge and borrow money. We spent our savings. We contacted every one we knew in California, and tried to set something up. It was like jumping off a cliff. I really had no idea if we could really pull it off. But in the end, we did it. We packed up our equipment and our son, and drove 1200 miles from Southern Baja up to LA and then to the Bay Area.

Our friend Jules, of Jules and Johnny Nation (who I met at my very first gig in Todos Santos, a locals' music night that Tim Lang created when it was announced locals were not allowed to play at theTodos Santos Music Festival, 5 years ago) came through for us and created a three act event at Froggy's in Topanga Canyon, California. Froggy's was just our style. Unique, large, full of vintage furniture, dusty, and in between owners. It used to be the town hall. A local woman made delicious tamales and gazpacho to sell at the event, but sold out of food within 10 minutes. It felt like we were home. The gig was on July 7th, which happened to be the hottest night of the year. And there was no A/C. We had to keep the door closed because a waterline burst on the street in front of the venue and there were men with jackhammers working through out the night. Luckily, there was a fan on stage with us. I loved the feeling of the fan blowing my hair while I sweated over my guitar. I felt like I was in a Beyoncé video. A fan is going to have to be a new must for me on stage. 

I was so excited to have close friends from college, grad school & even preschool there for our show. I was ecstatic to be reunited with Jen Gherardi, the drummer for my former band, Social Service, who was there with her whole family. Also, my friend Laurie, who was hosting us at her house in LA, and who has been my friend since we were three was also there with her whole family. I dedicated When I Grow Up to her daughter Mia, who was the inspiration for that song.  

Our next gig was in San Jose, California. A few months back we met Dana Albany at the wedding of our friends Sam & Holly (where I was DJing as well as assisting Lucas with the photography.) Dana, who is an artist, told me about her latest sculpture, Tara Mechani, a 15 foot Thai Goddess Boddhisatva Robot. She is representative of peace, and the coming together of the ancient and the cutting edge. As soon as I saw Tara, I knew that I had to do a performance next to her. We got in touch with the San Jose Department of Cultural Affairs, and then it was set as a public gig! 

After a quick thrift store stop (we had to go to every thrift store possible) and a new look, Emilio decided he would be band manager. He didn't realize it would involve doing anything other than sitting around looking cool in his new thrift store clothes and chewing gum.

After the first few songs, my Fender Blues Jr. amp dies (which had been my amp for 15 years, Lucas gave it to me as a gift back when we lived in Brooklyn) so I have to plug in directly to the PA. Luckily, we had just gotten ourselves the PA speakers, otherwise there would have been no rock and roll.

Here's a little video of our Tara Mechani gig:

 

After our gigs on the West Coast, I flew East with Emilio and Lucas drove back to Baja. I brought my beloved ukelele and did a couple of unexpected shows - an open mic in Wellfleet, Massachusetts and an impromptu chamber concert with my sister in law, the cellist, Justyna Jablonska Edmonds in my parents' living room. I adore Justyna's cello playing and the combination of instruments is inspired. I can't wait to collaborate more with her.

Every experience was great learning for next summer, when we hope to do a 2 month tour across the US. We have a year to dream, plan, raise money, record an album and transmit the rock-and-roll love! 

 

Follow Zoë + The Mischief on Social Media to keep up with our news and tour dates!

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Mexico City Photo Essay

Visiting a less familiar city is always a fun opportunity to bust out my Fuji x100 to capture some street photography

 
 

In May, Lucas, Emilio and I went to Mexico City, now nicknamed CDMX, to finish up the paperwork process of getting our Mexican citizenship.

Visiting a less familiar city is always a fun opportunity to bust out my Fuji x100 to capture some street photography. Living on a dirt road in the desert does not offer too many of these chances. For the first 35 years of my life, I lived in cities--New York and then SF, and Oakland and walking around with my camera is a welcome return to my former life. 

The hotel we stayed at was in the downtown and very close to China Town. I have a history of living in Chinatown and have had an affinity for Chinese culture since I was a child. I also studied Chinese for 7 years as a youth! So it was super fun to capture both Mexican and Chinese culture in some of these shots.

Mexico City is a fun place, but I must admit that I have become accustomed to a slower, quieter, less populated way of life, and I get overwhelmed by large cities now. 

We ate tacos at our favorite Taqueria: La Auténtica. I stopped eating "red meat" a year ago for no other reason than my body tells me not to eat it, but I do eat an occasional taco al pastor, which is pork, and I've heard is considered "the other white meat." Their al pastor tacos are the best I've ever had. I also love their little plates of nopal, and their quintet of salsas is incredible. I had to keep ordering totopos so I could have a vehicle for more salsa. We discovered La Autentica the last time we went to Mexico City, and that was when we first heard this powerfully moving song, El Paciente by Alfredo Olivas. It would be a high challenge, especially to sing, but some day I would like to  do a Zoë + The Mischief rock and roll cover of it. 

Anyway, our little trip was successful and we left as Mexican Citizens! 

 

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LETTER, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn LETTER, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Blogging From Bed

I have missed you. I have missed the process of sharing my inner world in the hopes that you will receive encouragement, inspiration and connection. When I write to you, my hope is that I make the world a safer and more loving place for artists, healers and sensitive souls, like you, and me.

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Dear Creative Crusader,

I have missed you. I have missed the process of sharing my inner world in the hopes that you will receive encouragement, inspiration and connection. When I write to you, my hope is that I make the world a safer and more loving place for artists, healers and sensitive souls, like you, and me.

It’s been five months since I wrote my last museletter. I got really busy in January, and then it got harder and harder for me to return to this vulnerable process. I began the museletter concept one year ago, at the beginning of summer, like it is now. And I started my first blog six years ago, at the end of summer. Summer has a special meaning for me since I moved to Baja almost 10 years ago. In some ways, summer here is like the winter of the cooler parts of the Northern hemisphere—it is a time of introversion, avoiding the outside (it is very hot, humid & buggy) and of storing up for long periods of downtime. Summers here can be very isolating, and it can be difficult to find motivation for projects because there is a sticky slowness that descends over everything.

Summertime inspires me to make different kinds of commitments--to writing and recording or other introverted and antisocial projects. It is a time that makes me want to get back to my core—the part that I too often hide from people, the part that has ideas and thoughts, dreams and visions, and lots and lots of feelings.

The need to return to my inner world is also motivated by the end of the high season here in Baja. The high season starts in November, and is marked by a feeling of excitement about the return of people, projects and events—all extraverted activities. When November comes, which is also my birthday month, the extravert in me can’t help but jump in to any and all opportunities and invitations. I love people and I love collaborating—especially if I have been deprived and holed up in my house for months on end. (Side note: the longer I’ve lived here, my summer has become busier, and I have found a little more balance. I continue teaching Dance Lab all summer, and will continue to see clients.) Sure, I have my family, and we have a lot of fun together, and I do travel back to the US to see my family of origin. I am not completely alone, but my extraverted side needs quite a bit of socializing to feel satisfied.

So at the end of the high season, in the summer, it’s the opposite. The introverted side can’t wait to get into solitude. All I want to do is read, meditate, draw, work on new songs, and especially, write. Writing is an activity I’ve always done and will always do. For me, it’s like breathing. It’s my way of thinking of understanding my point of view. Without writing, I feel listless, unsubstantial, like a leaf being blown around by the wind. Writing every day grounds me to my core, and then sharing my writing with you creates an exultant & risky feeling that I equally fear and adore. 

I have sought out psychics only twice in my life. Both times with burning questions about my writing. Usually the question is about the process—how long will it take to write my book? When should I start? Or how can I approach my writing? The second psychic I consulted, a year ago, told me that she saw that I was meant to write something raw and honest, and that a lot of other people would relate to what I write, and that I would do it in a fashion that invited others into it. It would have a community aspect to it. I put this reflection aside, and a few weeks later I started my Sunday Museletter—which was then called Reads, Listens & Looks. For years now, I have created public announcements, creative challenges and deadlines to give me the accountability I need to take the writing plunge. So far it’s worked. This is partly why I host creative challenges  for others to participate in. Just yesterday I started posting about my desire to start blogging again on my Instagram stories, to see if it would force me to get this post out today. (It seems to be working.)

I have been thinking about returning to blogging or sharing my museletter again with you for months, but I have found myself silenced by the inner critical voices. It’s that classic double bind--creating causes fear, self doubt and shame-attacks and not creating causes anxiety & depression, aka: stuckness. It’s hard to admit to you that I— a creativity coach, an expressive arts therapist, an artist, an encourager of other people’s creativity and art—get stuck sometimes, too. So, I am taking my own advice, the advice I give my students and clients. Instead of going around the block, avoiding the block or forcing my way through the block, I am going to explore the block.

What does the block feel like? Look like? Taste like? Draw it. Write about it.

My feeling of being stuck has a very particular flavor. It is bitter. It is rarely about a lack of ideas, lack of motivation, or even a lack of time (I have changed my life completely in order to accommodate the time needed for a person who is constantly in need of creative expression.) My stuckness has the distinct taste of fear. It is born from old ideas that my intellectual mind is tired of. Ideas stemming from how I was judged or discouraged as a child. Even though the cause of the fear is old, emotionally, I am still right here in that fear. We now know that emotions are not linear creatures, but rather, particular arrangements of peptides living as potentials inside of us, and all we need is a trigger to set them off. The fears create well worn groves and it is very difficult to carve a different path. However, carving a different path is the way of life I have committed to, and so, over and over, I have gone through that familiar process. The pattern goes something like this: I share something and feel triumphant about overcoming the inner obstacles, then I feel like a failure when my expectations are not met (because I am a grandiose optimist from NYC, my expectations are almost never met), then a wash of shame soaks through me and I find myself, stuck, frozen in fear. I am caught between wanting desperately to express myself, to keep the channel open, to connect with others, to share my longings and disappointments, to stay authentic, no matter how painful or scary, but I tend, instead, to hide. To turn away from my audience, friends, family, and most especially, myself.

This exposure-disappointment-shame-frozen in fear cycle is something I have learned and practiced since an early age, and it was born from what I call the Scarcity Complex. The scarcity complex is the idea that there is a finite amount of love, money, success, shininess and attention in the world. It is an airless space, devoid of compassion and connection. 

However, when we pause a moment, and open up to the larger truth of our experience, we see that love is infinite, that love is our true nature, and that the universe is expanding. We see that we are not solid things to be compared and competed with, but rather energetic beings in a constant flux of evolution. There will always be more, because the universe will expand to meet us as we evolve into something more complex and intelligent.

And so, I have discovered that the best dissolution for the scarcity complex is to expand one’s point of view, to see how we are ALL connected, and to find gratitude for what we already have rather than focusing on what we want or want to achieve. For those of us who believe in the Law of Attraction, this does not mean we shouldn’t imagine what we want to create in our life and in the world, but it does mean that equally important to our envisioning, is our feeling. In order to attract what we want, we must feel the feelings that resonate with the unique quality of our desire. Desire is a feeling, not an image. We must actually feel the desire and the gratitude for what we have already received. No matter how destitute you are, there is usually something (EG: the miracle of life itself) that we can find at least a little bit of gratitude for. And if you cannot genuinely find gratitude for something in your life, start then, with something you desire, and imagine yourself actually feeling the gratitude as if you already had or experienced that thing. In some cases, we are blocked off from desire too, in which case we start from whatever we actually feel--the block, the resistance, the fear. As I am demonstrating here.

The scarcity complex is dangerous--it cuts us off from our spiritual nature, the larger part of us that knows we are all one. It distracts us from our core truth, that we are love. It convinces us that we are in competition with our fellow humans, rather than in cooperation. It cuts us off from our higher intelligence, which is intimately connected with the heart. Knowledge is only information, if it is not also not felt in the heart. 

As much as I don’t want to admit it to myself, or to you, I see now that I have been caught up in the scarcity complex. And even though I have been aware of it for a little while now, it still causes tremendous pain to feel so cut off from my spiritual nature. I still mediate every day, practice yoga, dance, sing, write, sit with others, and do all the things that I know are good for my whole being, and yet, I still find myself daily, slipping into the pettier aspects of my personality. The part of me that feels insecure if I don’t get attention on social media, or feels threatened by people doing similar work to mine, or who isolates, when I am in pain, rather than reaching out to loved ones. I have found myself more and more under the grip of my trio of inner critics, the self police (who doesn’t want me to perform or get attention), the judge (who judges my feminine aspects), and the task master (who wants me to do everything faster, bigger, better, and right now!). 

When I am under the grip of any of the inner critics, I believe what s/he is saying to me: “No one values your work, that’s why they don’t come to your class” or “Everyone is so sick of you. You should be ashamed of yourself for continuing to put yourself out there.” or “You will never finish your book. It’s just a bunch of disorganized, half-baked ideas.” or “You are pathetic, don’t share your insecurities with other people because then they will see you as you really are: an impostor, a hack, a dilettante.” 

As I write the things that my inner critics say to me, I am taken aback by the lack of compassion. However, the process of externalizing the critic, that I share with my clients and students: drawing him/her, writing down what s/he says, acting out the conversation between you and your critic - is very illuminating. Witnessing (from the higher self perspective) the meanness of these voices inside, I immediately feel compassion for the me that is being barraged by these critiques. Genuine heartfelt empathy magically arises: “no wonder you feel ashamed or blocked or afraid to create or express or share your work.” The arising of this compassion is what allows me to share this with you. Compassion is a magic thing. And the moment we have more compassion for ourselves, we can have even more compassion for others, including the inner or outer judges of the world. After all, once we face the critic with compassion, we usually find out that s/he is well-intentioned, and is just trying to protect you (or your ego) from getting wounded. The inner judge has a really antiquated, unhelpful, shaming style. It’s like a parent from a previous generation that never learned how to be sensitive. It means well, but it’s doing a shitty job. In fact, most of the comments people make that hurt my feelings, have that same quality. They probably think they’re being helpful or encouraging, but because of their own fears and judgments about their own inadequacies, they are actually projecting their own stuff onto me. 

I am so tired of getting hurt by “well-meaning” people who accidentally shit on you because they have no idea how to actually listen or take someone in. As the women’s empowerment coach Tara Mohr says, criticism reflects much more about the other person than it does you. Your critic’s criticisms stem from their fear. They come from the scarcity complex. Yes, the critic is part of you, but it started out as an outside person—a person that represents the norms of society. A parent, teacher, religious figure, sibling. This is why externalizing the critic is so powerful—when we start to see it for what it really is, we have the power to listen to it, and respond, instead of projecting it onto the people around us. We can turn down the volume of the voice, or purposefully put our attention on something that makes us feel more alive and whole, rather than ashamed and shut down.

I have spent the first half of my life in a cycle of hiding and revealing. Like a flasher—see me naked, now you don’t. After I shared myself publicly, I would go through days or weeks of shame, which caused me to hide, isolate, shut off my creativity, sink into darkness. Hiding, especially, the shame itself. But in the past few years, since I made a commitment to be more authentic, to continue to be all of my selves, I have been actively working with my shame. Facing my shame and having the courage to talk it about was inspired by the incomparable work of Brené Brown. From her, I learned how to “speak shame.” Naming it first for myself. Letting myself feel it. Listening to what the inner critics are barraging me for. And then, sometimes, when I feel brave enough, sharing how I feel with close friends. And this, now, is the last part of that cycle—sharing my process with you. Opening up honestly to what courage really looks like behind the scenes. As you can see, it’s not pretty, or glamorous or fun. It’s hard work. It’s confronting all the fears, and judgments. 

I, like so many, was raised to be a people-pleaser. I learned at an early age how to transform myself to become what I intuited someone needed or wanted me to be. Often, it took the form of becoming the great encourager, putting people at ease, self deprecating or hiding myself so that the others would be more comfortable. I found all sorts of ways to hide—pretending to be less intelligent, more conventional, less sensitive than I really was. It took so much effort, but it was a survival tool that I needed. And of course, I was mostly unconscious of the behavior. It just happened. 

But now, at age 44, with a family of my own, and a hand-constructed life in the Baja desert, I don’t think I need that tool anymore to survive. For the past few years, I have worked to liberate my conditioning, to unlearn those habits of behaving smaller, lesser, quieter than I really am, or want to be. Yes, it is safer to be hide, but it is makes life less satisfying to live. 

And then, in the words of Anaïs Nin, “the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” This moment of risk has come for me many times, and each time, I blossom a little further, I include even more of my petals in my bloom. Being outspoken, transparent, creative, loud, opinionated, unapologetic as a female makes you a target. There is no way to deny that fact—just follow the career of any female public figure, and you can see the ways they attract shaming, ridicule and hatred. Yes, these female figures also inspire love and inspiration—but the thing is you can’t have one with out the other. I now know that the more I put myself out there, the more people will judge me. The more I share my point of view, the more people will disagree with me. The louder I become, the more people will avert their ears. 

For a reason that was not created by me, but given to me, I showed up in this lifetime to wrestle with this very thing--the process of becoming one's true self. To learn and teach the process of human wholeness and evolution, to understand how to alleviate human suffering through liberation and creative expression. To be an example through living my life transparently. To allow my own experiences with shadow to be a teacher, to encourage others to take up more space in the world. To not do it, to hide my suffering and fears, my passions and dreams, is to not honor the truth of my soul. To not to do it, is to let down the people who I help to open up. To not do it is even worse than the pain of rejection and shame. 

I have spent the first half of my life honing my crafts. Learning everything I could about psychology, spirituality, education and the arts. I have travelled, studied languages and cultures. I have listened to people’s stories. I have read books with great insights. I have trained as an artist, writer and performer. In the second half of my life, my goal of course is to continue my studies, but also to integrate all of this experience and knowledge, all these learnings into books, talks, blog posts, songs, classes, retreats, videos so that it may help others live out their fullest potential and highest purpose. It’s a lot of work, doing what I do. And I so often get the feedback from others: you are brave or you do so many things. They look at me with fear or discomfort. But those comments, while they are intended to be kind, in truth make me uncomfortable. I hear, underneath the words, a judgment. I shrink a little at those moments. But later, when I am able to access my higher self and sees all of my smaller selves, I come up with an appropriate response, which is: how could I have it any other way? I am just allowing myself to be me. I am allowing all my selves, and I give everyone else an open invitation to do the same. I was lucky to be born with a lot of privilege, energy and a very optimistic nature. This optimism has allowed me to experience many rejections and failures, and even though those failures hurt me deeply, the optimistic part always wonders—well, what’s next? What can I create? What can I bring into the world? What is needed? What is the next form of healing that I can learn and teach?

And so, I end this letter with a few decisions I have made.

I want to keep writing, keep sharing my process, keep daring myself to be more and more transparent with the hopes that my nakedness will help you feel more safe to be naked too, in your own way. As I have shared before, I am working on a book. The form of this book is in constant flux, so I don't know exactly how it will all come together, but it is mostly certainly a book that will include personal essays on similar topics to my blog. I decided that I want to share more here, the process of writing my book. Some of these blog posts will be seed starters for longer pieces. As always, I welcome feedback. I encourage conversation. I plan on writing more directly on my blog. And then sending out a monthly museletter with links to posts, news and information about my music, art, community activities, events, classes, etc. 

If you have already subscribed to my museletter, you will continue to receive monthly emails. If you want to read my blog more frequently, you can just come to my blog to see the latest posts. I love hearing from people. Please feel free to send me an email if something I shared resonated with you, or if you would like to share your own story or your own creativity. I extend to you an open invitation for you to share news with me that I can put in my monthly letter. Or if you would like to be a guest blogger here, I would be happy to publish your work, as long as it is in alignment with my core values. 

Together, let’s create a community that is more balanced, compassionate, vulnerable, creative and authentic! I know that I cannot do this alone. And I welcome your contribution in whatever form it takes.

Love and creativity,

Zoë

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Road Trip (2012)

Road trips, for me, are usually both very difficult (due to the boredom, feelings of disempowerment, and lack of exercise) and very fun (sense of family adventure, opportunities for long, process conversations, visual stimulation, fun with camera). We’ll see how this one goes....

ZOELAB DAY 80

Date of Original Post: November 19, 2012

This afternoon we are leaving for our drive up North for the purpose of getting the last of our stuff (including our vintage pachinko machines) out of storage in Northern California. Lucas did this trip a month ago, thinking it would be the last, but he couldn’t quite fit it all in the trailer. So, this will really be the final trip. (It better be!) We will stop for a few days in LA to visit with friends too. My internet access will be unpredictable over the next few days, but I will keep up my ZOELAB on my computer as much as possible.

Lucas has done the roundtrip Baja road trip at least 30 times since 2004. I’ve probably done it about six or seven times. This will be Emilio’s fifth time--his first was when he was not yet two months old. The first time Lucas and I did the drive was in 2004, after we had moved from Brooklyn. Before moving to San Francisco for me to start graduate school, we decided to go to San Jose del Cabo to visit with Lucas’ sister Emilia for a few months. We had bought a 1964 VW bug through Craigslist San Jose, California, from a father and son who, as a project together, had built it up as a Baja 1000 racing car with: 1835 cc, dual carbs, big head valves, transmission swap, 33 inch racing tires in the rear, full roll cage, racing seats with 5 point harnesses. The interior was stripped down to the metal to save weight. (No, I don’t know that much about cars. Luckily I have Lucas sitting next to me to give me all the specs from his engineer’s brain.) In other words, it was extremely fast, for a bug. Lucas raced a Porche in LA and beat it, but only because the other driver knew that Lucas didn’t mind scratching the paint of his car. And Lucas knew that the other driver knew that our entire car was worth less than his paint job. Needless to say, the LA driver was very angry. Because of the racing motor, when we went more than 30 miles an hour, it was so loud inside the bug that we couldn’t listen to any music, let alone hear each others voices. We had installed an old intercom headset system from an old airplane, but it was just too uncomfortable to wear for the long drive. The starter motor died 10 miles into the trip, and we had to push start it the remaining 1600 miles. Even in California, when we had to push start the bocho (what VW Bugs are called in Mexico), Mexican men magically came out of nowhere to help us push. We made it down to San Jose del Cabo  in four or five days, with our ears ringing from the loud car. I don’t have the photos of that road trip right now to share, but I will post them when I find them.

Road trips, for me, are usually both very difficult (due to the boredom, feelings of disempowerment, and lack of exercise) and very fun (sense of family adventure, opportunities for long, process conversations, visual stimulation, fun with camera). We’ll see how this one goes....

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Garafön +/-

I wasn’t even that nervous. Something in my body remembered what it felt like to perform rock n roll. My strings were rusty, and I knew I should have already changed them. It was our turn to go up.

ZOELAB DAY 147

Original Date of Post: January 25, 2013

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I wasn’t even that nervous. Something in my body remembered what it felt like to perform rock n roll. My strings were rusty, and I knew I should have already changed them. It was our turn to go up. The stage was a mezzanine about fifteen feet above the restaurant, which was covered by a giant palapa roof. There were about a hundred or so people sitting, standing, eating, drinking. I had to climb a steep ladder to get up there. I was afraid I’d get vertigo, but all the pre-adrenaline in my body made it easier for me. After Obë, Marty and I climbed the ladder, and were up there on the stage, I suddenly had no idea if I could remember what we were supposed to do. But instead of feeling panic, I felt an in-the-moment calm. Presence. I had already decided to make my performance about fun, and not perfection. Because I knew I couldn’t have control enough for perfection. Isn’t that what rock-n-roll is all about anyway? Sticking it to the man-- letting go of convention, of correctness. It’s about feeling power through music. Feeling excitement, truth, rebellion, exaltation. The lights were in my face--blinding sunshine, warming me, highlighting me for a moment. Strapping on my guitar with the red silk chinese strap, the bravado kicked in. Then I really remembered the feeling--I felt, but didn’t think of, my first and last real gig, which was with Social Service in 2003--at Meow Mix a lesbian bar in New York City. It was as if the last ten years my rock-n-roll trajectory was on pause, and then someone just hit unpause. I did. Joan Jett, Carrie Brownstein, electric Bob Dylan, Velvet Underground, these are the musicians who gave me courage. And Marty and Obë too. And Tim Lang. And all the people there that night to hear the locals. And Caitlin Moran. And all the women out there who want to be counted in the worlds that don’t always include them. All the stubborn, adventurous women. To inspire we must be inspired. And it was with that spirit that I strummed my electric guitar, and then broke my B string on my very first chord. And we played our two songs--we messed up in places, and I didn’t sing all that well or into the mic enough, and we sped up too much. But none of that mattered, because we rocked. And, we were very, very happy. 

I am pretty darn sure that there’s nothing more fun than performing rock n roll.

 

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LETTER, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn LETTER, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Women Awakening: Healing & Reclaiming Your Power

The heroine’s journey is partially a journey of healing. That healing is the key to our empowerment. I see empowerment as taking responsibility for yourself. And only through knowing and healing ourselves can we love ourselves enough to face our whole selves, shadow and all. I believe it's no accident that there was a big focus on healing--as women, as a collective, and individuals, we have a lot of healing to do.

 
A celebratory moment at the end of Women Awakening with a few of the other co-creators: Angelica Robinson, Marimar Higgins and Jill Mullenhauer

A celebratory moment at the end of Women Awakening with a few of the other co-creators: Angelica Robinson, Marimar Higgins and Jill Mullenhauer

 

We were in Mexico City a few weeks ago applying for our citizenship, and last weekend, I was deeply engrossed in Women Awakening, an annual women's summit, of which I am also a co-creator. I haven’t been able to keep up many of my usual practices, including sitting down and writing to you.

I love the reflective nature of Sundays--that slow transition from the weekend to the beginning of a new week. I used to get the Sunday blues when I was in school, or had an office job. The transition between day and night also used to bring me down as well. But now I have a whole new relationship to Sundays and Twilight. I have learned to stay present through the transition, which is usually a time we choose to check out of. I have discovered much complexity in those moments when one thing transforms into another. This experience is good for art, reflection, tuning in to inner guidance, meditation. Maybe this is part of why we are so drawn to sunsets, in addition to their dazzling beauty. Sunsets invite us to embrace change.

For some strange reason, I love transformation. I am hooked on change. I like to change my identity, my hair, my work, my mind, my life. It’s life as art. I love witnessing and facilitating change in others. It's so beautiful to help people discover and express themselves. I see everything as malleable, transmutable, workable-with. Even our selves—our pesky little identities and egos, and attachments, and all the rest—these are forever able to be created, re-invented. 

This is why I believe so profoundly in creativity—because it’s what allows us to evolve. Our ability to create ourselves, our lives, our cultures—this is how we evolve. We are consciously participating in the direction of the stream of life. And change—that is at the epicenter for life itself. Everything is always changing. That is the one thing that stays the same. And the sooner we can accept this, the sooner we can jump in the stream of life with the courage of a hero/ine, with our hearts open and our minds aware.

Last weekend, at Women Awakening, I felt like I was at the epicenter of where healing and change happens. I had heard some feedback from some of the participants that they had expected the weekend to be more about empowerment and less about healing. The theme of this’ years summit was Reclaiming Your Power. I see healing as having everything to do with reclaiming your power.

The heroine’s journey is partially a journey of healing. That healing is the key to our empowerment. I see empowerment as taking responsibility for yourself. And only through knowing and healing ourselves can we love ourselves enough to face our whole selves, shadow and all. I believe it's no accident that there was a big focus on healing--as women, as a collective, and individuals, we have a lot of healing to do. This doesn't mean we can't fight for justice, or create change in the external world, but I believe we need to know who we are before we can point our fingers at others. In my feminism, having a robust and loving inner emotional life is key to being successful at this group project of returning girls, women and the divine feminine back to its rightful and equal place in the universe. Through embracing our wholeness, we can reflect the power of the divine feminine to world. The divine feminine: intuition, emotion, healing, feeling, receiving, being, holding. 

I know this is my impartial perspective, as a healer, but it is also my perspective as a woman who has spent a lifetime healing. We have kept the idea that we need to be healed in the dark. And that’s partly why we are still in need of healing. Of course all humans are in need of healing, not just women. But women have a particular kind of healing and cure that happens in togetherness, with each other. In connection, community, collaboration, cooperation. All the words that start with 'co'. In order to become whole again, as Woman, and as Women, we need each other. We need to see and mirror each other. Even in our imperfections. Especially in our imperfections. We need not to isolate and say to ourselves: I must go it alone. The more we reach out to each other, the more we will feel held, ourselves.

This was the experience I had last weekend at Women Awakening: I held, and felt held, as I shared my presentation and workshop on owning your shadow. I saw a room full of women hungry for a compassionate space to look at, feel into and talk about their shadows. All of us with different shadows, and yet all of us sharing the collective shadow of Power. A part of us that we reclaiming collectively. I believe that because of the collectively destruction towards girls, women and The Feminine, for thousands of years, we all share an unconscious collective experience of being marginalized, violated, or otherwise oppressed, simply because of our gender or sex. This is a wound we all share, whether we are conscious of it or not. And to pretend it’s not there is to keep the wound festering, never to see the light of day. This wound is power. I have spent a lifetime studying power, and learning how to take power. It isn't easy. And there's still a lot of work to be done. It's not all up to women, but it starts with us. It starts with our felt experience.

I gave my talk on shadow for that reason: to create the opportunity for us to bravely and collectively shed our spotlights on that which we prefer to keep hidden, lest we be ostracized from society. We are right to fear that banishment—the risk of speaking up or going against the grain has dire consequences for most of us, on every level imaginable. As a woman, showing your shadow material—your flaws, your ego, your wildness, your selfishness, is a fucking brave act. Women and girls are strongly encouraged not to let our imperfections show. To love all of our selves--that is our revolution.

For my shadow workshop, I decided not to use notes to give my presentation—other than using my hand out. It was exhilarating, to be that present. I wanted to trust that what I needed to say would come out with written words to rely on. The workshop flowed. This was because of the amazing energy and contribution of the group—all I had to do was channel the energy, and then get out of the way. (Plus many years of thinking and writing on the topic.) We ended in a circle where we each expressed two opposite truths about ourselves—one expressing our shadow, the other expressing our persona, or ego. I was so moved to witness and be part of a circle of women who each expressed both a a personal truth and universal truth. The circle held each of us, as individuals and all of us, as women. It was stunning to behold.

There were countless powerful moments for me from Women Awakening—some that come to mind right now: having the opportunity to collaborate in teaching a yoga and movement class with my friend/collaborator/teacher/student Marimar, and then to witness the women again, expressing their uniqueness, while held in a universal connection. I also loved receiving an intensive Spanish lesson through listening to the Spanish and English spontaneous translations. As co-creators of the event we were given the tremendous honor of first receiving the Munay Ki Rite of the Womb and Bands of Power and then giving those sacred rites to the other women, who in turn, are now empowered to give it to others, as well. I loved the eye-opening talk on the yoni, and receiving a new vocabulary and permission to harness the power of my sexuality. Meeting new amazing women who have travelled from far to share their gifts. One surprise moment stands out: hearing Marisol of La Santa Cecilia sing and bless my new ukelele with her compelling voice at an evening gathering. To bring it full circle, the song she sang was called Todo Cambia and it was about how we need to learn to embrace change because everything is always changing.

Even if you didn't have the chance to participate in Women Awakening, I want you to know that you were thought of that weekend. We held you in our hearts. The healing and empowerment that took place is reverberating out to all the circles we are connected with. Not only women and girls, but men and boys, too. Awakening is contagious, and it is happening all over the planet. Each of us has a part in this. Each of us has the power to transform even our most traumatic experiences into gifts to be given to others.  

Empowerment is about taking responsibility for your self. For your actions, your emotions, your dreams, your soul work. In order to take responsibility, in order to find our power, we must first heal. We must look within at our darkest parts. We must face our fears. We must get really really comfy with all our selves and find compassion, humor and healthy expression. We are all in this human project together and no one has it all figured it out. Right alongside of vulnerability is power. We cannot have one with out the other. I will never stop shouting (or singing) this message from the rooftops. I was born to do this work, and this work is what made me see what work is mine to be done.

This is the hero/heroine’s journey. The journey of healing, of becoming whole, as individuals, as a society and as a planet. There is so much suffering on this planet. True. But there has always been suffering. Now, with all the collective awakening, and especially all the women who are awakening to our witchy, feminine, intuitive, wild, instinctive, creative powers, we have the unique opportunity to shed light on all the darkness of our collective human experience. The violence and the greed and the apathy are being seen like never before. We are shining our lights on these age-old shadows, and this is transforming the people and the planet. Let us keep doing the brave work, the hard work, but also the richly rewarding, creative and even fun, work, of going within. To love all of our selves with the understanding that all that exists in the macrocosm exists in the microcosm. Let us join together with open hearts and open minds, supporting each other, instead of being divisive and blaming and pretending that we have nothing to work on, nothing to transform or heal. As the Buddha said: “Drive All Arrows Into The Self”

Love & Power Unite. 

Amen. Aho. Namaste. Fuck Yeah. And all the rest.

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La Guardia Airport Power Point Presentation

In honor of the holiday traveling that I am not doing, that many other people are doing, I wanted to share my first power point art series I made when I lived in New York, two months after Lucas and I started dating.

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ZOELAB DAY 114

Original Date of Post: December 23, 2012

In honor of the holiday traveling that I am not doing, that many other people are doing, I wanted to share my first power point art series I made when I lived in New York, two months after Lucas and I started dating. He had gone to Baja to see his sister for a few weeks, and was returning to New York. We were in the early stages of falling in love, and I decided it was important to pick him up at the airport after his late night flight. I didn’t have a car, so I took a cab to La Guardia Airport. I got there early, and I had some time to kill so I walked around taking photos. About a month or so earlier, I had come into possession of my first digital camera. It wasn’t even mine, it was something I got to use because of my job at a children’s services agency as Publications Coordinator, in house publications designer, and Alumni Relations Coordinator. I needed to take photos at Alumni events, so they got me a digital camera, which I pretended was mine and brought with me everywhere. Until that camera, the only other cameras I had used were 35 mm SLRs, which I had been using since I was fifteen. (As a younger child I had used two cameras given as gifts from my parents--the Nikon Disc camera (remember those? the film looked like little View Master slides) and a Polaroid.) In 2003, having a digital camera changed completely the way I took photographs. I discovered and developed a new style almost instantly. 

As I waited for Lucas at La Guardia airport, I wandered around taking photos of things that caught my eye. Later, when I examined the images at work, a universal story emerged, personal only because of the context in which they were taken. I felt the photos had captured the contrast between the visual mundanity of airline travel and the internal feelings of excitement because of who you are traveling to see. For some reason, perhaps because I was at work, I decided the series needed to put together on power point, and hence my first power point art was created.

 
 
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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn

First Open Reading, Part Two

When I arrived at the reading my heart started pounding heavily, which is normal for me. There were about twelve or fifteen people sitting at tables. Even though I am a trained actress, I always get nervous before I am to speak in public, as myself. I have learned to live with it, by breathing through it and trying to use it to fuel my fire.

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ZOELAB DAY 108

Date of Original Post: December 17, 2012

When I arrived at the reading my heart started pounding heavily, which is normal for me. There were about twelve or fifteen people sitting at tables. Even though I am a trained actress, I always get nervous before I am to speak in public, as myself. I have learned to live with it, by breathing through it and trying to use it to fuel my fire. I also had a glass of wine, which helped. The other organizer/host (the wife of the man who had emailed me, who I knew from a volunteering at a women’s crafts collective while I was pregnant) called out the name of the person a moment before s/he was to go up. I listening to several readers, having no idea when I’d be called, trying to get used to that thing jumping around in my chest. The host then said: “there are two Zoë’s, who has the burning desire to go now?” I instantly threw up my hand with out politely letting the other Zoë, who is a child, go first. (I’m embarrassed that I did that now.) But I knew it was my time to go, and I wanted to be relieved of my jumping heart. The last reader had read about sorority girls and her granddaughter, a sorority girl also, was there listening. I saw a theme emerging about family relations, with the other Zoë and her brother there, and I needed to seize my moment. 

There was a microphone and a stool, so I sat in the stool (which was a mistake) and started reading. Standing is always more grounding then sitting--having your feet on the floor. Sitting on the stool made me feel less present. My heart wouldn’t let my voice alone--it felt thin and shaky. I tried to read slowly, which is how it should be read, but I was nervous that I would be cut off, so I couldn’t read too slowly. This dilemma made my voice sound high and far away from me. I read the best that I could. After I sat down in my seat, the blood came back to my face. Then the other Zoë read a wonderful poem. She read with such confidence, yet vulnerability. I was amazed that a thirteen year old American girl, living in Mexico, could be so self-possessed. Or perhaps living here has something to do with it. The next reader, the last, a woman who looked around my age walked up to me right after her name was called and asked me the name of my blog. I thought it was strange she was asking me when it was her turn to read. I said: “Zoelab.net. I”ll write it down for you later.” She waved her hand impatiently, “what's it called?”  She had wanted the name at that moment so that she could announce it to the audience before she read her sharp and funny piece about her experiences as a mom living in Baja part time. She read exactly the way I would have wanted to read if I could have. Her voice was rich, confident, her relaxed state allowed for the proper comedic timing. She was fully present, which draws the audience in. I found out that she is a published author and also coaches writers on reading technique. Well then it made sense. 

I received warm and kind feedback after the reading was over and chatted with my new promoter and role model. Being someone who slips in and out of feeling empowered, I find it refreshing to spend time around empowered women who are also kind. An empowered woman person takes care of herself and others. (You can’t have one with out the other. (wink.))

Anyway, it was an enlivening experience and I definitely plan on returning every month, if I can. To have an opportunity to meet new people, experience a new environment, connect through art, share my work, be inspired by others’ work, play a new role in this community, gain potential new readers, and have something to write about on ZOELAB!

Oh, and I wanted to share the words from my brother’s email (who gave me permission to publish) that I read at the reading after I finished my essay. 

Subject: designer jeans

I just bought my first pair - and they're great, Italian I think, and very comfortable.

The transformation is now complete.  You and I have officially switched places.

I am the bourgeois hedonist and you are the spiritual ascetic.  

Love,

GG

READ: GeGe Mei Mei Post

Shout out: Happy Birthday Dear One, you know who you are!) Or am I day off?

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn

First Open Reading, Part One

Because it is an open reading, anyone can read something. The only parameters are that you must read an original work, and you must keep it at five minutes or less. This week, after four years of putting it off, I decided that it was time for me to read something. I guess I was just ready. 

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ZOELAB DAY 107

Original Date of Post: Sunday, December 16, 2012

 

Today I participated in my first “open reading.” In Todos Santos, a town close to where we live, a married gringo couple has been holding once a month open readings for many years at an open air restaurant inside an art gallery. I had been hearing and reading announcements about it for the four years that I have lived here, and I would always think to myself, ‘I should do that!’, but I had never attended it, until yesterday.

Because it is an open reading, anyone can read something. The only parameters are that you must read an original work, and you must keep it at five minutes or less. This week, after four years of putting it off, I decided that it was time for me to read something. I guess I was just ready. 

A few months ago I received an email from a man, who wrote about what a good writer I was and was curious to know about my writing process. At first I was overjoyed to receive a compliment, but then I realized I had no idea who the person was who was writing me, and that he wasn’t actually writing to me. (He was writing to my personal email so I knew he wasn’t writing about ZOELAB.) By googling him, I found out he was one of the people who ran the open reading. I emailed him back to let him know his email came to me by mistake. It turned out he meant to be writing to a different Zoë--but somehow had sent it to my email instead. 

The Zoë he was writing to is 13 years old. I found out later, that she had been taking a writing class with the him and he was giving her feedback via email. The other Zoë I also know as she and her brother are close friends with the two sisters I taught a film class to, which resulted in a 6 minute film that the girls (11 and 13 who were 10 and 12 when we started) wrote, directed, and acted in. Anyway, I knew the other Zoë, and her brother, also, because I had given each of them a haircut several years ago. Her brother who was 7 at the time, had requested a mohawk. I was nervous I’d get in trouble with his parents if I did it, so I gave him a “normal” looking haircut and just styled his hair to look like a mohawk. A week ago, I received another email from the organizer of the open reading, again by accident, this one thanking the participants for sharing their work. I decided it was a sign from the universe that I needed to read something at the open reading.


I knew right away what I wanted to read. The two part piece I wrote about my brother--GeGe & MeiMei (the Chinese words for older brother and younger sister). I chose it because it was both light and open hearted, and because I had received more feedback about it than any other piece I’ve written. Also, I had recently received an email from my brother entitled “designer jeans.” I decided to share the words from my brother at the reading.  I practiced reading the piece aloud to see how long it would take, I put my timer on and it beeped half way through. So I had to edit it, and quickly, as I had to leave in thirty minutes. I crossed out paragraphs and sections, timed myself again, and knew it was still too long, so I picked a few more lines to take out. I had never edited something so quickly in my life, and it was freeing to do it. I felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants, and that, for some reason, is the style in which I like to do things. In fact, the best advice I ever got from a writing teacher was to edit in an intuitive way rather than in a mental way. Play with your words, and let yourself sense what doesn’t need to be there. In this case, it was easy as I had no choice, and it was just a temporary restructuring. 

To be continued...

 

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Heart = Comedy + Drama

 
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ZOELAB DAY 87

Date of Original Post: November 12, 2012

While in LA, Lucas and I had the delightful opportunity to go out to Thai food with a group of good friends and then to a movie. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Dinner and a movie with a group of good friends--what joy! My friends who work in the film and television industry suggested we see Silver Linings Playbook--since I am totally out of the loop, I had not heard of the film, but my friend told me it was directed by David O Russell, (director of Flirting with Disaster, Three Kings, I Heart Huckabees & The Fighter) so I knew it was going to be intense, funny, or zany. It turned out to be all three. 

I can’t remember the last time I saw a film that I adored. It was so funny, so full of heart, so sad and honest. Other films that come to mind that share some of its qualities (besides, of course, Russel’s other films) are Punch Drunk Love (in my opinion the only film by Paul Thomas Anderson that had heart)--another unlikely love story about two characters who experience a lot of pain, and therefore don’t fit so well into normal life, and Secrets and Lies (directed by the British filmmaker Mike Leigh) a highly emotional, dramatic, and manic story created with much improvisation. Perhaps what these films have in common is their raw emotion and their unclassifiable genre. They are truly funny films, because the lead characters are real and odd characters, but at the same time, they are deeply sad and uneasy films, because the characters truly suffer, and their suffering is not taken for granted or prettied up, which is what Hollywood writers and directors usually do with their suffering characters. It is not easy to pull it off--a drama-comedy. I suspect the key to a successful drama-comedy (or dramedy), is focusing on the character’s hearts. Staying close to what the characters want, and then being unbridled in the expression of those wants. Letting the audience in, so that we root so deeply for the characters that we live inside them, feeling along with them by lending them our hearts. When you get down to it, that’s how life really is--it’s both funny and tragic. Technically, a comedy ends in a marriage, and a tragedy ends in a death, but in real life, both comedy and tragedy live side by side. When you live life with a somewhat balanced perspective, you can almost always see both the tragic and the comic in any situation. When I studied and performed improvisation at Pan Theater in Oakland, the director of the theater’s philosophy was that, contrary to common opinion, the best improv is not always funny, it just has to be true. But the truth is, and this is what Del Close (the creator of Second City and the originator of improv technique) wrote about in his book, what’s true also happens to be what’s funny. As improvisers (and as actors in general) we were always encouraged to be honest, and told to never try to be funny. The more honest I was in my improvs, in other words: the more I used my true feelings and actual details from my life, the funnier the improvs would be. 

In Silver Linings Playbook, the main character, Pat, has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, (what used to be referred to as manic depressive) and has just spent 8 months in a mental institution because of a violent incident. I don’t want to give the plot away, as it was so enjoyable for me to watch with out knowing anything about the film ahead of time. Let’s just say it wasn’t hard to empathize with Pat, even if he can be explosive and violent and lacks social grace at times. He was running around with a bleeding, broken heart--and his family and friends stood by him, as they tried, at the same time, mostly unsuccessfully, to keep him out of trouble. When Pat meets Tiffany, time stops, and we fall in love with her before Pat knows what’s going on. Tiffany is also suffering a loss, and her suffering, as well as her natural personality, makes her raw, brutally honest, and terribly funny. It is she who brings dance for its own sake, to Pat as a form of therapy, romance and possible salvation.

I find the emotional honesty, created by either lack of social skills or spiritual urgency, of certain characters with mental illness to be refreshingly exhilarating to witness. There is some part of me that relates to that emotional rawness and romanticizes how freeing it might feel to have no choice but to express the emotional truth inside. Watching people express their craziness (in this case, intense fear, desire, rage) while scary at times, is also strangely comforting to me. They are expressing the truths, no matter how uncomfortable it makes the people around them, that most people try so hard to keep hidden. The two main characters, given a combination of their particular genetic makeup, and life circumstances, are just a little bit too sensitive to live life as most “normal people” do, and yet, “normal people” are really only a few points more self-contained on the same scale of humanity. I guess what I am trying to say is that when people have the courage or lack of control to wear their heart on their sleeve, (weather due to mental illness, being a child, or just being highly sensitive) I feel compelled to protect their hearts. When a movie or a book dares to express this same large-hearted emotional honesty, I want to share it with the world. 

I’d like to add one more note about Silver Linings Playbook--all the performances are brilliant and touching, especially the two leads played by Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence (who is a revelation). The film also features an exceptional performance by Robert DeNiro, who plays Pat’s father. I have never seen Robert DeNiro this vulnerable before.  Russell was somehow able to get through Robert DeNiro’s Robert DeNiro-ness, and helped him to reveal a flawed, sad, and well-meaning father with a violent past.

The illustration above is my tag line for a theme in the film, which you will understand (I hope) if/when you see the film.

By the way, I didn’t end up making that American Apparel order.

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ZOELAB 365 Zoë Dearborn

Projects, Parenting & Spray Bottles, Part Four

Anytime my activity at hand is seen by Emilio, not as something getting in the the way of my attention towards him, but rather something he can be part of, is a step in the right direction. It means that I can have a life other than being his mom that he can witness. It makes our relationship more mutual.

ZOELAB DAY 91

Original Date of Post: November 30, 2012

Anytime my activity at hand is seen by Emilio, not as something getting in the the way of my attention towards him, but rather something he can be part of, is a step in the right direction. It means that I can have a life other than being his mom that he can witness. It makes our relationship more mutual. This is a natural phase of development, when the child is no longer only interested in the parent entering his world, but when he wants to enter the parent’s world. I think it’s important, especially for a preschool kid (in this case preschool really means at home, not yet in school) to see that his mommy has a life other than him. For the first time as a Mom, I am allowing more of the other parts of my self into my relationship with Emilio. 

That being said, there are still many daily activities that I can do only when Emilio is asleep or away.

All Alone Activities

Reading

I don’t think I have the ability to concentrate on reading in his presence. For this reason, I don’t read as much as I’d like. But I should give it another try. I certainly read him books all the time. Sometimes I try to make it fun for myself by thinking the reading as an acting role or by allowing myself to get lost in the world the illustrations create. For this reason, I try hard to find books for Emilio that I love to look at too. That way I am getting to have an aesthetically inspiring experience while reading to him.

Writing/Blogging

If I attempt to work on my computer in his presence, he will immediately zone in on my computer, want to sit on my lap and ask to type, click on random images on the screen with the cursor, or ask to watch something. (He used to hum and haw and beat around the bush for a few minutes (Mamma, how’s your ipod doing? orA movie would be really fun, do you like movies?” before asking. Now he just cuts to the chase: “Mamma, I’m angling to watch a movie.”) But, if I am writing in my journal or writing notes on random scraps of paper, he will grab a pen and a piece of paper and say that he is writing a list or notes too. He creates his own version of writing. 

Making Music

Since he was a baby Emilio protests dramatically every time I pick my guitar. I think it has something to do with where it’s placed on my body--I imagine he sees the guitar as a block between him and me. And he’s right, in a way. I really hope this will change some day, as it means that the only time that I can feel free to play guitar is at night. It’s the same with singing. Since he was a baby, I sang Emilio Summertime before he went to sleep until one day when he yelled in protest when I tried to sing him a lullaby. He no longer wants to tolerate my singing--which is not so easy for me to take as singing both my deepest expression and insecurity. There of course are some exceptions, and Emilio and I have made music together on a few rare occasions. One time we made up a song together that I recorded--see I’m a rock-n-roll thing. There was a brief period when we had “family band” practice. Me on guitar, Emilio on drums, and Lucas on recorder. 

I suppose the lesson in this is to be willing to compromise a little: to find ways to include Emilio in what I’m doing so that it’s fun and satisfying for both of us. 

Note to reader: For more about this subject matter and to see photo of Emilio sprayinghis water bottle in the shower, check out Attention. Also see Art with Children.

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Projects, Parenting & Spray Bottles, Part Three

As he enjoys splashing in his tub, I enjoy soaking, scrubbing, and grooming my feet. After a while, he becomes interested in what I am doing and asks if he can have a pedicure too. He thinks a pedicure is an object he can have.

ZOELAB DAY 90

Original Date of Post: November 29, 2012

I have the world’s best excuse for not doing dishes tonight (besides the ones laid out in yesterday’s post)--we’re out of water. Don’t worry, we’ll have water tomorrow--I can pump water into our roof tanks. But for tonight, no water. I had forgotten we were out of water, and I tried to wash my hands

Activities that can be completed while parenting with full or partial attention

Pedicure

Sometimes I give myself a pedicure while Emilio takes his bath on the patio. (The last time we did this he still fit in his bathtub which is really a plastic cooler. I am not sure he will fit in it anymore.) As he enjoys splashing in his tub, I enjoy soaking, scrubbing, and grooming my feet. After a while, he becomes interested in what I am doing and asks if he can have a pedicure too. He thinks a pedicure is an object he can have. I let him rub some cream on his feet and he loves it. He will usually split attention between what I am doing and what he is doing, and his enjoyment lasts for the entire pedicure process.

Baking Bread

This is a classic full time attention activity (where our attention is both on the activity at hand) with an equally shared result--fresh, warm, delicious bread! The recipe I use is from the New York Times adaption of the Sullivan Street Bakery No Knead Bread. I learned it from my Dad, who bakes it all the time. It looks beautiful, is very easy to make--no kneading, just a lot of rising and tastes incredibly good, like my favorite bread kind of good with a soft, chewy interior and a hard, crusty exterior. Anyway, it’s so easy to make, it almost doesn’t make sense not to make it. Emilio loves to make the bread dough. He helps measure the ingredients out and mixes the gloppy, sticky mess--which is very fun to play with. Then we let the dough sit for 16 hours. The next day, it has to be handled a little bit more (not kneaded though) and then eventually gets baked for 30 minutes in a dutch oven with the lid on and then 15 more minutes with the lid off. The sense of accomplishment that we both get from the experience increases the pleasure of eating the bread. One loaf usually lasts 2 days in our family.

Watercolors

I did try my idea of putting watercolor paint in spray bottles, but it didn’t quite live up to my expectations. It was hard to get enough color intensity, and it became clear right away that the mess was going to be unmanageable for me. Emilio seemed into it, but I just couldn’t let it go on. But, then I got Emilio interested in classic watercolor painting, while sitting at the table, and Emilio focused intently on his painting for enough time for me to pack up our stuff to get ready to go. 

Collage

This is a great activity that we enjoy doing together, or Emilio also can do it alone. Some materials I like to use are: construction paper, dry beans, googly eyes, Lotteria cards, pipe cleaners, origami paper, magazines to cut. (Next time I want to try a nature collage, where we collect objects outside as our materials.)

Exercise/Getting the Rawrgies Out

I like to take the opportunity for us both the get some exercise. Rather than trying to find someone to watch him while I spend money and drive to a class, I can put on music we both like and start jumping around--on the bed, or the floor. Yesterday I played the music from Yo Gabba Gabba, (Emilio’s new favorite show that we just discovered in LA) which is great and arty, with electronic beats and catchy repetitive phrases. “Try it.   You’ll like it. Try it.   You’ll like it” The songs remind me of songs we’d make up on our own, but with electric beats added.

Imaginative Play (with toys we both like)

My current favorite is pretend play with Vintage Fisher Price Little People. Now this doesn’t seem necessarily like an activity where I am getting something done, but it is, indirectly. Not only is engaging in imaginative play the best way that children learn, but it also gives me the opportunity to develop my imagination, which is necessary for most of the projects I am working on. That being said, active playtime with Emilio probably teach me lessons about almost everything I care about: creativity, improvisation, happiness, love, psychology, humor, relationships, and the list goes on...

Cooking

Sometimes when Emilio sees me start to cook dinner, he asks if he can help. Without hesitation I set him up with a mini chopping board, butter knife and a vegetable to cut. He looses interest after a few minutes, but he loves the feeling of contributing to dinner. 

To be continued...

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ADVICE/HOW TO Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, ADVICE/HOW TO Zoë Dearborn

Projects, Parenting & Spray Bottles, Part Two

It’s only been a few days of this new approach, but so far I am encouraged by how much I’m accomplishing while still giving Emilio the attention he needs.

ZOELAB DAY 89

Date of Original Post: November 28, 2012

General home upkeep is also now an activity I do while Emilio is awake or around—I also don’t like tidying the house at night, and now that I have deemed it a daytime activity, I can be more engaged in the process of cleaning or organizing, while still being partially engaged with Emilio. I can give him some attention, by engaging in his play by asking him evocative questions, while at the same time accomplishing house care: sweeping, tidying up, etc. It’s only been a few days of this new approach, but so far I am encouraged by how much I’m accomplishing while still giving Emilio the attention he needs. Of course it helps that we have just returned from a trip, so we are both happy to be home--Emilio with a reinvigorated attitude towards his toys, and me with a reinvigorated attitude towards returning to my projects and organizing our home (partially in preparation for the next wave of objects from our past that Lucas will be carting back in the trailer and the fast coming tourist season.) 

Mopping

House cleaning and organizing can also be a full-attention parenting activity. In other words a joint activity you can do with your child. One rare day I felt like mopping the floor to our house (like dishwashing, mopping is not on my favorite house chore--I strongly prefer sweeping or wiping down surfaces), and as I got out the mop and the spray bottle (filled with half vinegar and half water-a great natural and inexpensive disinfectant) I saw a glint in Emilio’s eye and I asked if he wanted to help. He wanted to be the one to spray the vinegar water on the tile floor while I mopped the area he sprayed. We both had a lot of fun and felt equally motivated to clean the entire floor this way. I felt a deep satisfaction at having a clean space, and all the more so because we had managed to accomplish and make fun, a chore that I had always found tedious. And I didn’t have to spend any precious alone time doing it. 

Wiping Surfaces

On another day, we decided we wanted to use the coffee table to draw, but it was dirty and needed to be cleaned. Again, I got out the spray bottle and a rag. I let him spray the entire table with the spray and wipe as much as he wanted, and then I added some finishing touches. After we were done, I felt like I could breathe better. I remarked at how nice it was to have the table all clean. I asked Emilio if he liked having it clean (hoping I could instill a cleanliness gene in him mentally instead of through DNA) and he said “yes.” And then I asked him why. And he said “because we sprayed and wiped it.” What he liked was not the result of table being clean, but the activity in itself, the experience of cleaning. Wouldn’t I keep the house cleaner if I saw it the same way?

Cleaning Up Toys

Another activity that can be done with full attention, and therefore becomes a good parenting moment and a good house care moment, is cleaning up toys. Now because the space we live in is a shared space by three unique individuals (Ping, covered in fleas, does not come in the house--which is the Mexican way with dogs) , it is easily overtaken by any one of us. I find that I feel happier at night if Emilio’s toys are already put away. I also think tidying up is a good skill for him to learn. Therefore, another one of the evening rituals I try to do is clean up toys as part of bedtime routine. I dangle the three books he will have for night time as a motivator, which usually works, unless he is so tired that he will resist just to resist. In which case I don’t ask him to clean up his toys in order to keep clean up time free of negative associations (you’ve got to pick your battles.) Ihave come up with an organization system, using various containers of shapes and sizes to help contain his toys. Therefore cleaning up becomes as much a sorting game as it does a chore. Even Emilio’s friends know which types of toys go in which containers. For example: the 1950’s white vinyl train case (from Ruth, my mother in law, who, on an overall life simplification jag, dispersed her impressive collection of vintage suitcases and train cases) holds the dolls and doll furniture (I guess some day we will get/make him a doll house), the metal Japanese Snoopy tin holds his collection of 1960’s and 70’s Fisher Price Little People, the cylindrical oatmeal tin holds his magnets (and becomes a great magnet toy in itself). My point is that cleaning up can be challenging and fun when it’s a sorting game. Sometimes as an extra motivator I add the challenge of competition-the point system. Every time someone puts a toy in a container I call out “I got a point. I got two points. You got a point” and so on. It’s just like a basketball game, but there’s lots of balls and we put them in the same hoop. This usually works in getting Emilio to put away his toys, but sometimes he still resists, and then his own internal motivator kicks in--he makes a new game where he finds creative ways (usually involving toes) to pick up the toys and put them in their appropriate container. It’s not as quick as my point method, but whatever works in the current circumstance is what’s best.

 

To be continued...

 

Note to reader: the power cord to my computer just burnt out on me, which means that I will not be able to charge my computer after it dies, which means I might be delayed in getting the next posts out until I can borrow or buy a new one. Yikes!

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

Projects, Parenting & Spray Bottles, Part One

Now that Emilio is three years old, and has expanded his attention span and developed a lovely imagination, we can work on projects together that we both enjoy.

ZOELAB DAY 88 

Date of Original Post: November 27, 2012

I used to think that it was impossible to get anything done while parenting. I guess that’s because it used to be impossible to get anything done while parenting. But, things have changed. Now that Emilio is three years old, and has expanded his attention span and developed a lovely imagination, we can work on projects together that we both enjoy. Painting with watercolors is currently the main activity in our lives that we both equally love. (Some of my watercolor illustrations this month were done while I was painting with Emilio). It’s relatively messy, but not compared to poster paint or finger painting, or even baking. It’s an art form that has the added element of water play, a beloved activity for many children. Emilio loves water play and will spend long amounts of time squirting a spray bottle filled with water. That just gave me an idea! I can put up large pieces of butcher paper on the walls outside, fill a spray bottle with watercolor paint, and he can make watercolorsquirt paintings. I can’t wait to try this tomorrow! Anyway, I suppose all kids projects are messy, especially for this mother and this kid. Every time Emilio “plays toys,” in a manner of minutes, Emilio’s toys are spread all over the living room floor. Many of his toys end up in the kitchen, under the couch and under the bed. This is partly because we live in a one-room house (plus attached bodega), but partly because Emilio is Señor Rough-on-stuff. I can’t blame him, as I, in my own way, am pretty careless with our objects as well. 

My goal lately has been to become more efficient with my planning and time so that I can truly have the time I need to complete all the projects I’m dedicated to—creating for ZOELAB, planning workshops for Art For Life, sewing for Seis Doce, planning my tv show, playing music again, wedding planning, organizing our home, planting our garden, while at the same time staying present and relaxed and having fun. A tall order for sure. With the exception of my one day a week job, I am a mostly stay-at-home mom who lives with a part-time working dad, and a not yet school aged kid, in a not-so-finished off the grid house in the desert, so I need to balance all these projects with family life, pre-Victorian household chores and parenting. In my attempt to look somewhat objectively at my life, so that I can find ways to become more organized and efficient with my time, I have come up with a system of categorizing my daily at home activities: those I can do while parenting with full attention, those I can do while parenting with partial attention, those I can do when Emilio is not around, and those I can do when no one’s around. 

Activities that can be completed while parenting with either full or partial attention

Dishwashing

I have decided that dishwashing should no longer be an after Emilio goes to bed activity, or an activity I do when I have some time alone. That’s just a waste of my alone time. Dishwashing should be done while Emilio is playing, or with Emilio. After years of being torn between Emilio and the dishes (an easy contest in Emilio’s favor), I am now astonished that Emilio asks to wash dishes with me. It’s become a fun activity to do together. I separate all unbreakable dishes for him to wash with his own pot of soapy water and he is so happy to make bubbles and use the sponge for almost the entire time of dishwashing. (Though I do have to step inwith some occasional damage control as he loves to splash water all over everything.) In my attempts to make dishwashing more appealing and doable for me, and to inspire me to keep the kitchen cleanliness at a higher level, I have come up with two key times a day to do the dishes: once in the morning, right after breakfast, while the day is fresh, and once in the evening, right before dinner. From the efficiency point of view (thinking specifically about how much time is spent washing dishes) No matter when I do dishes, I am going to spend the same amount of time doing dishes, so if I have to dishes anyway, doesn’t it make sense for me to wash them more often, in smaller doses so that I can enjoy looking at a clean kitchen, rather than saving the dishwashing until our entire is sink is filled with dishes and it’s so overwhelming that it makes me (or anyone who enters the kitchen) avoid it even longer. Additionally, I realized I really detest doing dishes after dinner, and this way I don’t have to, I can wash them when I have more energy and there’s more light. Now when Emilio asks for me to read to him or play with him after breakfast I can say “after I’m done with the dishes,” and that really means in only 15 minutes as opposed to the hour that it would take me to wash the terrifying pile of dishes in our sink that has been accumulating all week. Of course, I realize if one is to have success at dishes upkeep, one must absolutely start from a completely clean kitchen otherwise one might lose hope fast. Returning home to a thoroughly cleaned kitchen after our trip helped give me the boost I needed to turn over a new leaf.

To be continued...

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ZOELAB 365, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn ZOELAB 365, PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY Zoë Dearborn

dichotomies/dualities

I have come to believe, as the Taoists do, that in life, all things and thoughts have an opposite that is equally true. Nature is predicated on the balance between opposites: birth/death, light/dark, creation/destruction, and so on. If we ignore one half of a dichotomy or judge it, then we are not balanced, we are not allowing ourselves to the see and experience the whole and natural truth. As it is said: “you can’t have one with out the other.”

ZOELAB DAY 105

Date of Original Post: December 14, 2012

Being a person who is filled with contradictions and multiplicity in identity, (as we all are) I have found it painful and unnatural to align myself with any one side of a dichotomy. I have come to believe, as the Taoists do, that in life, all things and thoughts have an opposite that is equally true. Nature is predicated on the balance between opposites: birth/death, light/dark, creation/destruction, and so on. If we ignore one half of a dichotomy or judge it, then we are not balanced, we are not allowing ourselves to the see and experience the whole and natural truth. As it is said: “you can’t have one with out the other.”

During my training to become a psychotherapist/expressive arts therapist with a spiritual perspective, which included years of personal therapy, I learned about “splitting”, which in Freudian terms, is a primitive defense mechanism that the ego creates for its emotional protection from anxiety (or any threatening emotion). Splitting is when the ego, for the sake of protecting the good part of a person, or an experience, splits off her perception of the person into two parts--All Good or All Bad. Instead of seeing the self, another person or an experience as one integrated whole with complexity, contradictions and ambivalence, with both good and bad parts, the splitter sees only two separate parts or just one part. Splitting is “black and white thinking” at the psychological level.

Black and white thinking or splitting occurs also at a cultural level (as is apparent in bipartisan politics.) There is pressure in Western culture to make a choice, to specialize, to take a side, to act. It is not acceptable to be in-between categories, or to exist opposing categories. These pressures stem from the left side of the brain, which is, in itself, a bias in Western culture. Generally speaking, perhaps since the start of agrarian culture, we have been a left-brain dominated society that favors masculinity, action and rationality over femininity, receptivity, emotion. (For a fascinating read that suggests that culture turned from a right brain dominated (or at least equal brained) culture to a left brain dominated culture with the introduction of the alphabet and literacy, read The Goddess Vs. The Alphabet by Leonard Shlain.)

The last few days I’ve been listening to a book called A Whole New Mind by Daniel Pink, which proposes a compelling argument that American culture is moving from left brain dominant (information age) towards right brain dominant (conceptual age). He outlines “6 senses” that he believes will be necessary to master in order to thrive in the conceptual age: design, story, symphony, empathy, play and meaning. I would say these are the qualities I focus on in this blog. Being a right brain type of person I received this news with great pleasure and relief. After a lifetime of feeling unaccepted and alienated for being highly emotional, intuitive, and non-linear, I feel somehow validated, and understood. It’s as if, suddenly, there was a little bit more space for people like me in the world. By the way, I just did an online right/brain test and I scored 55% right brain, 45% left brain. 50% auditory, 50% visual. Perhaps this means I am becoming more balanced between right and left. It would be interesting to compare these results to the results I would have gotten when I was a child.

I truly believe, in society, and as individuals, we need to use BOTH sides of our brain (there it is again: the androgynous mind) for balance and optimum function. This is one of the underlying points of the Daniel Pink’s book. Discovering my tendency to split in graduate school, which caused much meaningless suffering, I decided I needed to change my either/or thinking to both/and thinking. I don’t have to decide if I am a clean or a messy person. I can be both! Both and thinking is integration--allowing space for all parts to exist simultaneously and harmoniously. Both/and becomes everything/and. Accepting multiplicity allows space for mystery and complexity in humanity and society.

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PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, LETTER Zoë Dearborn PERSONAL ESSAY/STORY, LETTER Zoë Dearborn

She's a Rock-n-Roll Thing

I have a birthday wish that I’d like to share. I am taking the risk of not keeping it secret, because this is a wish that needs to be voiced in order to come true.

I have a birthday wish that I’d like to share. I am taking the risk of not keeping it secret, because this is a wish that needs to be voiced in order to come true.

It is vulnerable to promote myself or ask for help. This is because I received the message at an early age that females are not to be proud, show off, or even love ourselves. We are to be humble, and hide our shininess because we our power or vulnerability might offend someone, make them jealous or uncomfortable. I have lived a double life for as long as I remember: walking the thin and anxious line between the silent, good girl who people-pleases and stays safe and the outspoken, spiritually-open, emotional, powerful part that has a LOT to fucking say.

I want to tell you that that dream is your truth.

After hearing a little bit of the hateful response to Ms. Hillary, and other women of power, I can see why this message exists. It is indeed a dangerous thing to be a girl or woman of power, a woman in the public, a woman with something to say. It makes sense because women who stand in power are targets. It is scary to be a target, especially in the age of the internet. However, it is even more dangerous to be a woman who keeps silent, and does not speak her truth.

I know so many women who struggle with this daily, as well as men, teens and children too. It is a terrifying thing to not conform, to express the dissenting view, to be original, to stand out, to follow your own path, to embrace the shadow, to feel and express our darker emotions, to embrace all of our selves.

I see a lot of quotes floating around the internet about how important it is to be your self, but with little advice or help in how to actually do this. I see becoming one's true self as the ultimate work of art, and the highest goal of life. Only from becoming whole, can we reach our fullest potential and highest purpose. Only from becoming whole within can we transform our culture and world. This is the work that I am called to do—teaching, supporting and encouraging people to live out all of their selves. And after a life time of studying, teaching and practicing the many art forms I am called to, I have come to believe the arts are the perfect container to speak the shadow of your truth. To express the vulnerability and shame that holds us back, to speak our soul’s longing, to communicate the unique way we don’t fit into the box society conveniently made for us, to own both our power and love, our masculinity and femininity. The arts allow us to express all of our selves because the arts are a container that allow that raw material to be symbolic. This is my professional work as well as my own personal journey of self-actualization, selves actualization. My very vulnerable work lately has been integrating these two sides of me: healer/teacher/coach with artist/performer/writer. In fact, I will be speaking on this topic and singing my songs at the concert following along with a group of other outspoken and heart-centered women, in exactly one month, Dec. 3rd, at the first Women Awakening, an international women’s summit in Todos Santos, the town in Southern Baja where I work.

I want to share with you my shadow side today, the part of me that I have worked hard to hide, especially from myself, for most of my life. This shadow side is powerful, masculine, and fucking loves to curse. This shadow side is critical of culture, has some strong opinions, and is non-conformist. This shadow side is angry, loves to take up space and has a powerful voice. This shadow side is also witchy, emotional and mystical and holds a deep spiritual faith. This part of me is a rock-n-roll thing. 

I have had some bold moments through out my life where I expressed this shadow side, in the safer, smaller contexts of the fancy private schools I was lucky to attend, and with my first all woman rock band, social service, in NYC. But then, eight years ago, after receiving my master's in psychology and expressive arts therapy, I got pregnant, and moved to a piece of land in the desert off the grid with my husband, started a family, let go of all of my previous selves, and completely started over from scratch. I dropped out of the society I had always known, transforming from city girl to pioneer woman. This new way of living put me in everyday contact with culture’s shadow: nature. Bugs, scorpions, snakes, hurricanes, off the grid toilet adventures, camping, even motherhood. All of it has kicked my ass, grew me up and made me deeply grateful for the loads of privilege I was born with and continue to experience. This gratitude has fueled a volunteer community work, and has given me a simple and profound enjoyment of everyday family life. This appreciation for life has also led me to create classes, workshops and relationships that are deeply meaningful and fulfilling, and has kept me writing and reading fervently, looking deep within, and continuing to practice my music in my living room.

But... there is still one thing that nags at my heart.  There is still one part of my self that I continue to hide more than I would like to, because I am afraid. As much as I long to reach a wider audience, I am still deeply afraid to be heard and seen, of what could happen in my life if I truly put myself out there and pursued the huge dreams that I have kept mostly to myself. I am afraid of alienating others, of people’s judgment, criticism, ridicule, jealousy. I am afraid of how raw it feels to share all of my selves, to use my voice. Of the vulnerability of not fitting into a pre-existing category of identity, especially gender identity. But, there is something I am even more afraid of: NOT doing it. Staying silent. I know too well what that feels like. I am afraid of dying with out having lived out all of my selves, with out connecting with the people in the world I would like to reach. With out people hearing my songs, and reading the books I am writing, with out watching the sit com I have been developing for over eight years. As afraid as I am of being seen and heard, I am even more afraid of staying silent. As Anaïs Nin famously said, “and the day came when remaining in the tight bud was more painful than it the risk it took to blossom.” That day has come.

And so here’s the part where you come in--the wish part, the part where I am asking for your help.

I want to share with you my latest song, Rock-n-Roll Thing, which is my first release in 13 years, since my first band, Social Service. I have at least 20 more songs to record and release. I hope this song will inspire others to ignore the voices inside that tell them what they can’t do, what they shouldn’t do, and instead listen to that other voice, that quieter voice, that speaks for your soul, and that dreams big. I want to tell you that that dream is your truth. I know this because as a child I wanted desperately to be a singer, but I was told not to sing, that I was no good. I wanted to be an actress, but I was told my voice was too quiet and I couldn’t get into the school play. I continued to stay silent while I expressed myself in other forms. I continued to pursue these dreams, despite all the rejection and heartbreak. Over the years, as much as I tried, I just couldn't turn away from that shadow self that part that had something to say, the part that dreamed big.

Some of you may know that I am a huge Lena Dunham fan, who is a controversial creative person and an outspoken feminist--a beloved voice in our culture, as well as a target. I have read Ms. Lena's book twice, Not That Kind of Girl, and lend it out to anyone who wants to read it. I have watched every episode of Girls at least 3 times. Even though Ms. Lena is many years younger than I am, we attended the same high school and college, and she has been able to be massively successful in multiple creative careers, the very same careers I pursued at her age. When I was in my twenties, I was only just beginning to learn how to use my voice. I admire Ms. Lena for her commitment to being herself, the quality and honesty of her work, for being willing to be transparent, vulnerable and stand up for and support other women and for what she believes. I admire her for sharing her shadow side, her mistakes and regrets. She is not perfect and neither am I. No one is perfect. It’s time for women and girls, and all humans, to own our imperfections and be willing to be seen and heard. It's time for us to make it safe for ourselves to share our shadow selves, and all of our selves.

I shared this one minute promotional video on instagram a few weeks ago, which I have been using as a microblogging platform, a relatively safe way of practicing being all my selves. Every day for the past few months, since I received my first smarty phone as a very generous gift, I have challenged myself not to hold back from sharing my passions, creativity, life and work online. But I have now decided, on my 43rd birthday, to share my song with a larger group in hopes that it makes its way to Ms. Lena Dunham and that she might consider the song for Girls. She has recently finished shooting the final season, and I imagine the show is still in post-production. There may be time for this song to still be considered. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try. I figure with my Saint Ann’s and Oberlin networks, someone knows someone who knows Ms. Lena Dunham.  All I ask for is a listen.

If you have five minutes, please listen to my song, Rock-n-Roll Thing, and if you like it, please share with others who you think will like it. Please show your support by buying it and downloading it, and sharing with your networks. Please share this blog post. Anything you can do to spread this message and this song.

Soon I will be shooting the music video, which will feature four of my selves-the singer, the drummer, the keyboardist and the guitar player. In the video I will be playing with gender roles and instruments and parts of self. In this version of Rock-n-Roll Thing I am playing all the instruments, and did all the recording and producing myself on Garageband. I turned myself into a one woman band just to prove to myself that I could. I have come far from that little girl who got rejected from the school play in 6th grade on account of my voice being too quiet.

Together, we can make this birthday wish come true!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support.

Love and creativity,
Zoë

 

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