About a month ago I had a very vivid dream in which I met my inner critic. I knew that I had a very negative voice in my head, but prior to this dream, I hadn't personalized it in any way. It was an absolutely fascinating journey into my psyche.
My dream was set in the Phoenix Art Museum. I was there for an exhibit when I happened upon the curator. (In reality, I could bump right into the curator and not know, but for some reason in my dream I recognized her.) She was of average height, dressed in a mauve wool suit and pencil skirt with straight blond hair that just hit her shoulder. Impeccable make-up. Not a hair or thread out of place. (So unlike me with my zany curls and chipping self-done pedicure.) She was probably in her 40s. (I told you this dream was vivid!)
I approached the curator in order to follow up on an email that I had sent her of my portfolio. I mentioned that I was an artist and that it was one of my goals to be included in an exhibit. I reminded her of my email and asked her if she had received it. She assented and then immediately began her destruction. She ripped my artwork apart completely. Told me that I had no talent. That I was obviously untrained. She told me that I had absolutely no chance in making it as an artist. I was an idiot for even thinking I could. She said all the things that I tell myself when I'm fragile. It was beastly.
In my dream I began to cry after her tirade. Then, something remarkable happened. I wiped away my tears and looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I was at a critical juncture in my life. I knew that I had two choices:
1. Agree with her and give up art. Retreat and risk nothing.
2. Disagree with her. Go whole heart. Risk everything. Prove her wrong.
I decided on #2. And I woke up.
When I was a kid, whenever I came home devastated because of a critical comment, my dad would advise me to Blow them away quietly. He was so right. The best course of action against critics and naysayers is to prove them wrong. And you don't need to go about proving them wrong in an obnoxious way with trumpets and drums. Simply excel. That's all. Your excellence will quiet their negative comments.
Many years ago, when a talented young man applied for medical school he was told by an adviser that he wasn't doctor material. He should give up and try something else. The young man decided that his critic was wrong. He studied, retook the MCAT and got into med school. He graduated top of his class and went on to become a very well-respected physician. Later, this very same adviser presented him with an award for excellence in medicine. Remarkable. He blew him away quietly.
Michael Jordan was cut from his 8th grade basketball team. He could have put his basketball in the bin, never to be touched again. But he didn't. He worked harder. Risked everything. And went on to become one (if not the) best basketball player in the world. He blew the world away quietly. (Okay, maybe not so quietly...)
I know that I'm not the only woman with a nasty inner critic: constantly telling me that I'm devoid of talent. (Whether it be in art, mothering, intelligence, cooking, organization, whatever.) She's really, really mean. Sometimes she puts me in a dark place. But she's wrong. Absolutely and positively wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
And I'm going to blow her away quietly.
I certainly hope that you'll do the same.
xoxo
B
My dream was set in the Phoenix Art Museum. I was there for an exhibit when I happened upon the curator. (In reality, I could bump right into the curator and not know, but for some reason in my dream I recognized her.) She was of average height, dressed in a mauve wool suit and pencil skirt with straight blond hair that just hit her shoulder. Impeccable make-up. Not a hair or thread out of place. (So unlike me with my zany curls and chipping self-done pedicure.) She was probably in her 40s. (I told you this dream was vivid!)
I approached the curator in order to follow up on an email that I had sent her of my portfolio. I mentioned that I was an artist and that it was one of my goals to be included in an exhibit. I reminded her of my email and asked her if she had received it. She assented and then immediately began her destruction. She ripped my artwork apart completely. Told me that I had no talent. That I was obviously untrained. She told me that I had absolutely no chance in making it as an artist. I was an idiot for even thinking I could. She said all the things that I tell myself when I'm fragile. It was beastly.
In my dream I began to cry after her tirade. Then, something remarkable happened. I wiped away my tears and looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I was at a critical juncture in my life. I knew that I had two choices:
1. Agree with her and give up art. Retreat and risk nothing.
2. Disagree with her. Go whole heart. Risk everything. Prove her wrong.
I decided on #2. And I woke up.
When I was a kid, whenever I came home devastated because of a critical comment, my dad would advise me to Blow them away quietly. He was so right. The best course of action against critics and naysayers is to prove them wrong. And you don't need to go about proving them wrong in an obnoxious way with trumpets and drums. Simply excel. That's all. Your excellence will quiet their negative comments.
Many years ago, when a talented young man applied for medical school he was told by an adviser that he wasn't doctor material. He should give up and try something else. The young man decided that his critic was wrong. He studied, retook the MCAT and got into med school. He graduated top of his class and went on to become a very well-respected physician. Later, this very same adviser presented him with an award for excellence in medicine. Remarkable. He blew him away quietly.
Michael Jordan was cut from his 8th grade basketball team. He could have put his basketball in the bin, never to be touched again. But he didn't. He worked harder. Risked everything. And went on to become one (if not the) best basketball player in the world. He blew the world away quietly. (Okay, maybe not so quietly...)
I know that I'm not the only woman with a nasty inner critic: constantly telling me that I'm devoid of talent. (Whether it be in art, mothering, intelligence, cooking, organization, whatever.) She's really, really mean. Sometimes she puts me in a dark place. But she's wrong. Absolutely and positively wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
And I'm going to blow her away quietly.
I certainly hope that you'll do the same.
xoxo
B
5 comments:
Great analysis.
I think most of us are our worst critic. It's hard to get over that, but you have succeeded.
I love your work. If I didn't live hand to mouth I have seen so many artists that I would love to collect. In the meantime, I am trying to find my own creative voice. It changes from month to month.
Keep up the work. You can be your own good critic.
I love you...and you know this hits more than anything right now! :):):):):):):):):):):)
Thank you, Bethany so very much for posting this! I SO needed this reminder…thank you again!!!
I am glad that you picked #2! What a great post.
There are too many critics in this world for sure...I hope you know that I am one of your biggest fans, still cheering from the sidelines even when it feels like we're on different courts.
{hugs}
oh, what a wonderful wonderful post!
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