progress?

Did you know...

"In 1986, EPILADY launched the first electric hair remover, pioneering the most significant revolution ever in the market of hair removal."

This is relevant, why?

Because as a sophomore in college, I remember ranting at Edwin, my boyfriend's roommate, because he had an ad for EPILADY hanging on his side of the dorm room: "You realize that picture on your wall is an ad that promotes the idea that women should tear their hair out at the roots! Can you imagine what that would feel like? Can you imaging doing that to yourself?"

I suspect he was interested in the blond-in-a-bathing suit in the ad, and not the actual hair removal product.

This was Dawn, feminist, circa 1989.

Dawn, feminist, circa 2007, believes that women who choose to wear uncomfortable shoes that make their legs look great are not mindless victims of the patriarchy (though she might save those shoes for special occasions without much walking involved, and is in fact, at this minute, wearing wedge heels that are both adorable and comfortable). She also believes that the way one chooses to dress can be an act of self and artistic expression, while also acknowledging that our cultural definitions of beauty are often unfortunately limited.

The main thing I want to say here is that last night, Dawn, feminist, circa 2007, ripped out (at the roots) her own stray eyebrow hairs with an at home waxing kit. This eyebrow experience was very painful, but I will probably do it again because in the few times I've had this done at a salon, they always take off more than I want. So imagine, it's kind of like pulling off a band-aid, but more painful. I was not capable of doing it quickly; maybe next time, I'll work up more courage.

So I acknowledge I may have been brainwashed as far as eyebrows are concerned. On the various makeover shows I deeply enjoy (I believe in the power of personal transformation -- though I DO NOT watch shows that involve plastic surgery), it's clear that the shape of one's eyebrows makes a big difference in one's appearance -- and this is true for both men and women.

The "Eyebrow King," Damone Roberts, believes "every person is beautiful in his or her own way, but does note that 90 percent of all women have the wrong brows for their facial structure. Damone says, 'It's the most underestimated important feature on the face.'"

I encourage you to read Damone's bio here. He really is called the "Eyebrow King," and "his work has been recognized in Vogue, In Style, USA Today, US Weekly, The Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan, Essence, Good Housekeeping, Allure, Newsweek and countless others."

The Wall Street Journal?

One last thought...though a 10X magnification mirror can be helpful when grooming, always remember that objects are in fact 10 TIMES LARGER than they appear. Check in with your regular old vanity mirror before taking any drastic measures.

discernment, passion, etc.

God is endlessly imaginative, and the function of discernment is to enter creatively into God's vision for the world and to collaborate with the Spirit in making that vision a reality. -- David Lonsdale, 20th century English Jesuit writer

This quote began my church newsletter for March, and I like it very much because I feel like it gets at the balance between God's will and the responsibility of an individual to participate in the act of creation -- creating relationships, art, peace, fill-in-your-desires here.

Another take on this idea is that when you are fulfilling God's vision for your life, you feel deep joy. I have experienced this feeling, and it has been true for me. Perhaps because I've spent a lot of my life caught up in other's expectations of me, this ringing true, full-body joy is incredibly important to me.

It's important for me to say joy, and not happiness, because I am often quite scared and fraught as I take these journeys. I wish it was easier. Actually, it's the showing up that is hard. The actual work tends to be quite wonderful.

getting a grip

B. and I have been talking about producing an animated documentary about bipolar disorder for about a year now.

Yesterday, we met and actually put ideas on paper!

I was gripped by anxiety for and aft. But I broke the process down step by step (get out of bed. take a shower. eat cereal, drink coffee. get dressed. get stuff together. get in car. get over the fact that you are an hour late. call B. and make sure it's ok that you are going to be late. etc.).

I think the anxiety and insomnia I've been dealing with lately has something to do with actually feeling fearsome feeling, rather than shoving them down. It is my sincere hope that ultimately, hanging out with the hard stuff (which includes both difficult and very pleasurable emotions) will lead to a more of an integrated Dawn, better to handle moods and strong emotions.

Shoving down, squelching, swallowing, however you want to put it -- leads to exhaustion, sadness, and difficulty taking in -- really getting on a gut level -- my accomplishments, contributions to the universe, etc.

SO...the main point of this post is, we did it! We took an important step forward. The anxiety, however sucky it was to experience, didn't stop me from showing up.

Wow!

gratitude

Last July, I wrote a blog entry called "Ugly Thoughts" (click on "Ugly Thoughts" to read it, if you want to).

It involved my time on a selection committee for the Hines Fellowship, and being kind of jealous of the four young women who were receiving the opportunity to travel internationally and domestically to do documentary work with organizations that focus on children.

We're in the selection process again, and I'm just grateful that I've apparently gotten my sense of possibility back into place. I'm unstuck, which is great. I'm not feeling jealous anymore, but inspired.

What do I want to do? It's a fun question, and I have lots of ideas...stay tuned!

What Actually Happened on Ash Wednesday

Through a perfect storm of work craziness, tiredness, and a state of anxiety due to hunger (writing those down, I see themes emerging as far as emotional vulnerability is concerned), I missed my DBT group session yesterday. DBT is short for Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, a combination of group and individuals sessions that teach skills to help manage emotions, negotiate life in very practical ways, and basically, to thrive in the world as a sensitive person (or you could say, “a person who struggles with a mood disorder of one kind or another”). One of the therapists says that she wants us to become “sturdier.” The fact that I missed a session is kind of a big deal because you're "allowed" four absences in the fourteen month program – after that, you have to pay the $50 per session whether you show up or not. So I think it’s ironic that I missed the session by failing to use the skills I’m trying to practice in the group.

A little before 6 p.m. I managed pull myself into the present moment, and made the decision to miss the last 30 minutes of the DBT group in order arrive at the Ash Wednesday service on time. I arrived a few moments after 6 p.m., only to find that the service didn’t start until 7 p.m.

There’s a chapel at Calvary, small-ish, that I like quite a lot. There is an altar with lots of candles, so I lit one, closed the door, and set my phone to go off in thirty minutes. For the first time in a while, I was able to meditate.

Sitting on the floor of the chapel with my legs crossed, I focused on the candle flame. First I could feel my body gradually coming into itself. Legs connected to floor. I felt balanced, comfortable with my legs crossed, leaning back a little. I could feel the tension in my back, arms, and shoulders.

At the meditation retreat I attended over New Year’s, I cornered the (amazing, wonderful) instructor and asked, “Really, no, really. What does a peaceful mind look like? What am I trying to do?” She took my question seriously, and the most helpful thing she said was, “You may have to come back to your breathing 10 times, 100 times, a 100,000 times. The meditation is the spaces between the times you remember to come back.”

With her permission to fail/succeed a 100,000 times, I felt the freedom to explore meditation, and felt less frustrated, less wrong.

So the meditating in the Chapel was good. There were moments of stillness, quiet. There’s a great quote (source unknown) that goes: “If you’re busy, meditate. If you’re really busy, meditate more.”

I have less to say about the actual service, except that the scripture included one Psalm 51, one of my favorites:

Create in me a clean heart, O God;
and renew a right spirit within me.

Though it leads up to a dark time in the Christian calendar I like Lent. It’s popular to skip Christ-on-the-Cross and jump straight to the bunnies and baby chicks of Easter, but that doesn’t seem authentic to me. And my world gets muddy, frantic, so time to focus on the spirit, on God’s will for me in the world, is a good thing.

So with the grit of mortality on my forehead, I entered the next forty days (not counting Sundays).

Lenten Promises/Gifts

This year, my Lenten promise is no unnecessary purchases of things. Movies ok. Food ok. Clothing, accessories, books, music -- not ok. (This isn't a judgement against consumerism, it's just something that feels right for me to do right now. I'm having money anxiety, and I tend to shop as a way of avoiding feelings.) I understand Lent as a time to come closer to God, and the thing/thoughts/etc. that you "give up" are in the spirit of making more room for contemplation, quiet, etc. Not to give up things that are "bad" for you.

So this evening I'll go get ashes smudges on my forehead. Since I didn't grow up as a Christian, the meaning of such rituals (and this includes communion -- which is an intense and moving ceremony for me) don't necessarily make sense in an intellectual way (Not that I don't get the ashes to ashes thing). Sometimes, like this evening, I'll show up open to the experience, and see what happens.

I receive daily emails from "The Upper Room," with Bible passages and pithy reflections from various sources). Here's today's scripture reading...

Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts, and not your clothing.
- Joel 2:12-13 (NRSV)

"Rend your hearts, but not your CLOTHING."

So smart. It's Lent and all, but why wreck a perfectly good outfit?

you can't fool sleep

Being bipolar girl, I tend to pull off large projects -- in my case, events involving lots of planning and people -- with huge pushes towards the end.

I've learned how incredibly necessary it is that I work with people who break down things into time-lines, who think about deadlines before the drop-dead deadline, and frankly, folks who can hold it together if I can't get into work on a particular day because I'm plastered to my bed with anxiety and depression...

I also have learned over time that if I plan ahead, I can get help. I can delegate. I can empower people to do their thing. I have, I believe, become a much better micromanager over time (meaning, I micromanage less). Working with people I trust, not only do events/projects/etc. generally turn out better (sometimes wildly, imaginatively, qualitatively, quantitatively, better), but these successes plant a hope that some day, I'll be able to start a five day or eight day event feeling, well, rested (or well-rested).

I could talk more about functioning at work as bipolar girl, but now, at 11:43 a.m., with an early start tomorrow, let me tell you THIS:

After numerous nights staying up (not just up, but in the office) until 2-3-4 a.m., my bones aches. My brain's fuzzy. My body vibrates (not in a good way). I feel fragile -- physically and emotionally. On my way to the car today, I tripped and fell -- and let me tell you, there's nothing like hitting concrete so hard you tinkle that makes you feel happening and in control.

Now, I'm going to get a good night of sleep tonight (6.5 hours!). And for the next few days, I'll take deep breaths, and even when I have to perform my public self in front of a crowd, I'll dip into the well of whatever has allowed me to move through rough/shaky feelings and (ta-da!) *shine* for most of my life.

I love my job, especially the part of my job that involves all these people who are passionate about documentary work coming to learn new stuff. I want to change so that I can more fully appreciate how much fun it is, so that I can address the hard work with a rested self, and feel full at the end. I want to be able to enjoy how good I am at what I do.

You can't fool sleep, because if you could, I would do it. I've tried, tried, and tried again. Bipolar girl can't mess around. It's dangerous. It sets me up big-time for a crash. I need eight or nine hours. That's my goal for tomorrow night.

'night...

she walked back into the room quietly

I was talking to a dear friend about struggling with the times in my life when I just can't get things done the way I want to, and how shaming and awful it feels when my inability to get work done negatively impacts those around me. How hard it is to know that I'm making someone else's life more difficult, even as I get on some level that I'm doing the best that I can while struggling with depression, anxiety, etc.

I don't know how you do it, she said.

Well, I said, I have a lot of very compassionate people around me. A lot of care, a lot of support.

And then I paused. This was a friend that I could risk being honest with.

And will, I said. Force of will. And it's ironic, because for so long -- fifteen years or more -- I thought, if you just try harder, you'll be ok. You are not trying hard enough. But by some gift of grace, I can see now that another reason I'm ok -- functioning in the world, more or less -- is that I have been trying so hard.

My friend affirmed, that yes, it is also you, trying so hard.

May I please state for the record that I'm tired? I'm working so hard at the moment to get better -- in group therapy, regular therapy, being vigilant about my meds, etc. etc. -- because I have hope that there is way for me to be in the world that doesn't require that I work quite so hard.

It's not that I'm afraid of hard work -- it's part of my identity, this idea that I work hard. But I desire a new struggle, something that feels different. Fresh. Not these stinky bedclothes of depression, anxiety, and mania, oh my.

shoes make me happy

I was just reading another blog and the author put a picture of a pair of her new shoes on her site, and since I'm wearing my fancy new shoes today, I'm posting two different views on my blog. Please notice how fantastically well they match my jacket while not yet being too matchy.

And yes, I'm hiding my face behind the shoe. I'm holding off on posting a picture of myself for the time being. Not sure why, because it's not like I'm keeping much to myself.

Oh -- it's interesting to me who reads my blog. Like, A., who technically works for me, but in reality (and maybe this just makes me more comfortable to think this way) works with me, said to me the other day, "If your boss had a blog, wouldn't you read it?" Yes, indeed, I would. She later said that she liked it, really.

One last thing. I'm struggling much with the whole being present thing. I went to swim today, and realized that I'd swam eight laps before I remembered I was in a pool. Meaning, my mind was racing about all the things it was racing about in the office, and it took that long to even notice that I wasn't noticing where I was. You know, in water. Thankfully, I can swim on automatic, though I did try to focus more on the experience of moving through water for the rest of my swim.

Enjoy the shoes.

the O interview, 2017

Folks,

Just want to say...it is singularly terrifying to post this piece of writing. I am afraid you will think I'm full-of-myself, or fooling myself, or that I'm just kind of stupid. I find it so much easier to be self-deprecating.

On the other hand...

I do believe that if we put our desires out into the world that God/Source/Spirit/Energy responds. So even if I don't end up on the Oprah show in 2017--well, the three pieces of art I mention in this post are gifts I want to give the world, and to create for myself.

Also, a cool thing that happened while I was writing this piece is that ideas came to me -- that I had never thought about performing the shopping play in a mall, though it makes lots of sense to me, and I didn't have a title for my series of essays on water, either.

If you do your own Oprah interview, I'll publish it here!

Dawn

*****

The Oprah Show: Sometime in 2017

O: So Dawn, in Water: An Autobiography, you write about your 36th birthday being a real turning point for you.

D: On my birthday, I made a list of my goals for the year. And at the top of the list were three things – get good sleep, exercise, and eat healthy. I listed other goals – spending more time with friends, shedding responsibilities (without taking on new ones!), and making time for my creative self -- but it was absolutely clear to me what my priorities needed to be – and sleep, especially was at the top of the list.

But of course, knowing what I needed to do and actually doing it were two very different things.

O: Oh yes, don’t I know.

D: I think it’s safe to say that everyone around me had heard me say for years, “I need to slow down. I need to slow down.” And it was frustrating that my number one commitment – just to get enough sleep! – was so difficult for me.

O: So what made the difference? What actually allowed you to make the changes in your life that allowed you to create – to produce these plays, films, and writings – and now a book! (audience applause) that people connect to in such an intimate way? Because that’s what I can’t get over – this book is so funny, and self-deprecating, and it’s – you know, I can sit on the beach and just flip the pages…but girl, when I put it down -- you are deep. You are DEEP! These funny little stories…

D: I’m so glad you think they are funny…

O: No, they are funny! But you are dealing with some deep – well, let’s talk about Water…

D: Well, I think that connects back to the other question – about how I, well, finally got enough sleep (audience laughter).

O: That is revolutionary, you know – how many of you in the audience get enough sleep (audience groans, 10-15 people raise their hands). And how many of you have children (about 10 of the hands drop). It's hard -- it seems to me that women, in particular, neglect their most basic needs, and don't even know that's what they are doing.

D: Right -- exactly. Well, what I did -- I decided to take the sleep thing really seriously. It began to represent something big to me – the whole idea that I was valuable, that I was a child of God, that I had ideas and passions to share with the world. I felt like, if I can’t actually commit to going to bed at a certain hour most nights, how seriously can I take the rest of my goals? How could I have faith in myself to step out into the world and follow my dreams if I couldn’t even commit to getting enough sleep?

And also, being bipolar, sleep is critical. Some people can go without sleep – put in a few all-nighters and be ok – but losing sleep sets me up for a big depression. My mood is so obviously sleep-dependent.

O: Ok, so sleep – what else happened?

D: Well, the other thing that happened is that I began to own my creative power. I realized that I had a number of creative ideas that were unrealized -- but that I could see, in their entirety, completed. That I knew the first step, and the second step, and believe, through my wobbly faith in God, that the next step would appear to me as I moved along. I have always had a lot of ideas, Oprah, too many, sometimes. But these ideas – they were so tangible, so solid I felt I could hold them in my hands.

O: And your first idea – it was a documentary, right?

D: Yes. An animated documentary about bipolar disorder. And how that happened – the path was definitely made by God. Who I met, the brilliant director I partnered with, the people who agreed to be part of the story, the resources that appeared – it was all already out there.

I lived with that knowledge for a long time – that creative projects could work that way. I had some small successes where I saw that the creative process could be, well, if not painless, at least it could be spirit-filled. So I believed that the pieces would fall into place, but I wasn’t ready to take the leap. And it was about the time that Water started to form in my mind. It seemed everywhere I looked, the idea of water, in all its incarnations – ice, vapor, flowing water, oceans, rivers – and also, floating, drowning, surfacing, swimming. Around that time, I also started taking my swimming seriously, training for open-water swims.

As all these ideas were floating around in my head (sorry about that), I kept going back to the thousands of laps I swam as a child on my neighborhood swim team. I learned to trust water. I trust the way my body moves in water. It’s a faith born out of practice, not just belief. I wanted to know – how could I build that same – that same embodied trust in my spiritual self, my creative self?

O: So many people think that you should be able to just transform overnight. It’s about building trust, building faith. Even the big leaps – the "aha" moments – it can take years to make the changes, to live into the “aha” moment.

D: Well, yeah (grimacing). It would be nicer if it didn’t work that way, but that does seem to be how it goes.

O: (laughter)

D: I think two approaches made it possible for me to move forward, to create the kind of life that I had dreamed of living for such a long time.

O: Right – because you said in your book that you feel you lost much of your twenties to depression, and that a lot of your thirties was a catching up time.

D: Yes, that’s right. So on the one hand, there was the microcosm: get enough sleep. On the other, there was the big dream: find a way of living that would allow me to spend a significant amount of time on the projects I felt called to do. And I decided in my birthday month that I would spend the next year learning the skills I needed to move toward my goals. Because honestly, if I had won the proverbial lottery and had all the money in the world and didn’t need to work any more, I don’t think at that time I had the skills to create the life I wanted.

O: Money is nice – it helps, I’m not saying it doesn’t make things easier (audience laughter) – ok, it can make certain things a lot easier – but it is not the answer. Speaking of which – I hear you got a sizeable advance for Water.

D: Yeah…not quite sure how that happened.

O: It might have been the success of The Art of Shopping – and believe me, there are not many plays that have reached that kind of audience. It first played in – where -- Durham, NC – (Dawn nods)and then in all these towns and cities all over the country. And then it moved to off-Broadway. That’s kind of backward…

D: It was just, well – how it happened! I’d done a bunch writing on my own – my partner said I didn’t need to interview anyone, that I had enough personal experience to write a thousand pages…but it was so much fun to talk to women about shopping! I’d done – I don’t know, fifty or sixty different interviews and mixed my own experiences with the interview sources.

There were three women who collaborated on the play with me. I’d never written a play, never staged a play, but there was a group of us that got really excited about it, and we pulled it off. We actually did the first performance in a mall – it was a fundraiser for a mental health organization that focuses in particular on women and children suffering from mental illness and living in that gap between Medicaid and having insurance. It’s a very personal cause for me, as you know – I’ve been so blessed to have access to health care, and the substantial support of my parents and friends.

O: You tell some of these stories in your bipolar documentary – the struggles of these women, and what they have to go through to get help – it’s staggering.

D: Right – so through my awareness work around these issues, I was asked to do a fundraiser, and we thought staging a a dress rehearsal of Shopping would be a good way to get a sense of the audience’s response. It was so much fun, Oprah! People stepped out of the flow of shoppers and came over to see what was going on, and they stayed! It was so exciting to see people connect with what was happening, in this enormous courtyard,, with the echoes of the spaces and so many of the shoppers bustling by… after that experience, we just decided to keep doing the play in, well, unconventional spaces. The set is so simple – three dressing rooms, a clothes rack – and of course, the clothes… we're pretty mobile. And even when we had a longer run at a “real” theatre, we kept the stages just that simple.

When I decided to write “The Art of Shopping,” it was at a time when I was recovering from, if not a buying addiction, at least a shopping addiction – meaning, it was the walking around a mall, or the Target -- Tar-jay -- and just looking at things, sometimes buying, but not spending out of control…it was a habit from my days of dealing with severe depression, when I was grateful just to have a distraction from the pain I was feeling – it was a time when being numb was hugely preferable to what I was actually feeling. And one evening, I was in a TJ Maxx around nine p.m. and I thought, what if the creative energy of the women in this room – because honestly, it is mostly women – what if this energy was harnessed into something else? What are we not doing because we are here shopping?

O: I don’t know, if I’d want to give up shopping, though (audience laughter).

D: No, of course not – me neither…because shopping – the way we present ourselves, the objects we choose for our homes, our shoes

O: You know I love some shoes (audience laughter).

D: Yes! Accessories, how we dress our children – shopping can be a supremely creative act. So I wanted to write about shopping in its complexity – not an anti-consumerist rant, but something we could identify with, a celebration that would also make us think about where our clothes come from, and that maybe there is something else we might do, some nights, instead. I still shop…

O: Especially since that book advance! (audience laughter).

D: Well, yes…but I’m present now when I shop. I’m not numbing myself. (Dawn tears up).

O: (Oprah reaches across to squeeze hand).

D: Honestly, Oprah. There were times – months, years, -- where I never thought I would get to this place. And I don’t mean Oprah’s couch. (audience laughter). I mean a place of contentment. A place of trust in God, in the universe. I’ve been – well, the best way I can put it is to quote myself from Water. I’ve been swimming laps for over a decade now. I’ve been swimming in a pool of faith. And thousands of laps later, I know – I don’t just believe, but I know – that all I have to do is dive under. And I’ll surface. And swim on.

O: Amen.