As someone who has the habit of arriving most places either right on time or a few minutes late, I showed up fifteen minutes early for the first class. I walked from the parking lot alongside another woman carrying a bag filled with things. I thought she might be the teacher until she commented she had never taken a painting class.
That's when I asked, "Are we suppose to have supplies tonight?"
I had missed the email.
I sat surprisingly calm with an old t-shirt in my lap as the teacher and four other students arrived over the course of ten minutes. Each student had canvases, paints, palettes, brushes and knives. I had an old t-shirt.
Anticipating art class had stirred memories of wearing my father's worn out over-sized shirt in elementary school as a painting smock. I made my way to class feeling a sense of fond connection with childhood only to discover I was without supplies which stirred other memories. Throughout adolescence I felt and feared mortification. As a result I tried to avoid potentially mortifying situations for much of my young adult life. The prior me would have been mortified this particular evening.
I was surprised to find my sense of adventure and anticipation wasn't diminished from lacking supplies.
Two hours quickly passed. And it was enough, more than enough, to be in the energy of our teacher, Cindy Birdsong as she shared plans and ideas for our coming weeks together and how we might incorporate beans, plaster, burlap, nuts, photos and various objects in our art work. It was more than enough to be with my new classmates who offered me canvas and paints which we ultimately didn't need on this first evening.
I could have easily spent class time in my head consumed with what others thought of me and feeling inadequate, awkward and embarrassed. Judgement and self-consciousness would have prevented me from being present. As a result I would have missed out on the collective energy, enthusiasm and excitement shared by six new women in my Tuesday night tribe.
I showed up without supplies yet I discovered within myself the more important supplies necessary to a rich, engaged life. I had the supplies I really needed. An attitude of openness, non-judgement and the capacity to receive what was offered me through experience as well as others generosity were the only supplies I needed.
There is a beauty and grace in this event evoking both positive and negative memory for I was ultimately reminded of how I came to Earth and who I came here to be. As children we arrive in physical form with spirits that are open, non-judging, curious and ready to learn. All too early we learn judgment of others and of self from the adults around us and authorities. These judgements breed fear and contempt.
As the week has unfolded, we have witnessed a bombing in Boston, an explosion in West, Texas, gun legislation struck down in D.C. and regressive animal abuse legislation vigorously lobbied for by corporate entities and passed in my home state of Tennessee.
We have been presented with opportunities and challenges to see if we can maintain openness and non-judgment while holding the tension of uncertainty and bearing witness to grief.
In art class terms, can we take the mixed media of what this week has presented us and look for the deeper story? Can we take the time to see and imagine the possibilities emerging on the canvas of these times? (Personally I am challenged to be aware of how I use my energy, time, mind and heart and how I speak and live my truth.)
If I had arrived Tuesday night with the external supplies suggested, I would have missed discovering the internal supplies most needed. I would have missed the experience of generosity with these women previously strangers to me.
One can say I am naive and art class is easy compared to living in the world at large. I am convinced the supplies I discovered this week, openness and non-judgment, are vital in our world.
Today I Imagine the Shift, a shift to continued openness, non-judgement and generosity.
-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 19 April 2013
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