It’s a new calendar year and I am wanting to open myself, to tell my story. Mine is an every person story. I hear it told by thousands of other people every where. My story and your story, although so different in context and situation, share a common essence and power. Hearing or reading another’s story creates resonance between us, provides signposts to guide us, and aids us in our own inner enquiry. Knowing this encourages me and makes me bolder. How my storytelling will unwind is still somewhat of a mystery; my story knows and soon shall I.
Picking up Tara Westover’s memoir, Educated, I begin reading and realize. This is my story. It’s my story about how a life bound up in unquestioned beliefs narrows our understanding and possibilities and how when life opens to truth and honesty inner knowing emerges. It’s my story about walking a tightrope between wanting connection with family and knowing that that very connection would swallow me whole, never allowing me to walk my path, to create my own life. There are choices we make. We all choose. I chose. And, so do you.
Even though the events and struggles of my life and Tara’s are so different they yield a common truth. That we each have a knowing inside of what feels right and that betraying that “rightness” is giving our life away to others. That only by opening to that embodied knowing can we really embrace our life’s path.
Robert Frost’s words are here with me now as they have been ever since I was in the fourth grade. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I— I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference.”
An inner process began working in me early. How it started, I don’t know. Through it what became very clear was that education was key — an essential tool to help me create my life — both my inner and outer life. It gave me knowledge and technique and also courage. Through reading and writing, learning how to think, allowing myself to be curious about everything, and seeing and then shifting perspective and seeing again with everything turned upside down, life’s truths and possibilities have opened to me, guided me, and supported me. Not only did this process shape my mind, it shaped my soul.
As I sit here typing, a smile is on my lips. I am happy here at the keyboard. Satisfied with the daily discipline of writing. Delighted when inspiration arises and creativity flows. Steadfast when it doesn’t.
Another truth. Knowing what feels right isn’t enough. You have to act on it. You have to do the work, not helter-skelter, but passionately and unwaveringly. The routine is as important as the stroke of genius. Your daily work is the foundation on which everything else builds. I give myself to the ritual of noting the hour, sitting at my desk and arranging my objects. The paper butterfly, the tiny replica of Degas’s sculpture, The Dancer, the coppery Buddha head from Thailand, and the ceramic heart given to me by a student as a thank you so many years ago line up on the shelf to meet my gaze when I raise my eyes from the keyboard. The pen here, the paper there. The computer screen lit just so. The task light precisely angled. And, then with my fingers on the keys, I am off and running. This daily habit sustains and excites me. I am grateful for it.
In this year we are embarking on together my wish is that each of us finds and listens deeply to that inner knowing of what feels right; that each of us acts on this truth through our work, by putting one foot in front of the other on the path; and, that each of us takes time to shape the routines that nurture each step along the path and applies them daily. Happy New Year everyone!
Everyone is talking about being authentic, of being our authentic selves, and of leading authentic lives. The talk grabs our attention. It feels right to say, “I want to be authentic.” But, exactly what is authenticity? And, how do we know when we truly are?
When we are authentic, the dictionary says, we are genuine, real, true, and honest. These qualities feel right. Most of us want these attributes for ourselves and others. Once we move from the abstract to our daily lives, however, exactly how these operate in us can be much harder to pin down.
What does it mean to be genuine in our words and actions? How do we know if we are being true? True to what? And, are we really honest? Authenticity is an inside job and there s a lot going on in there.
We ask ourselves what is authentic for us. An answer comes. How do we know the answer is authentic? One way is to look at inner and outer drivers.
Inner drivers include what feels right or what feels true in the moment absent of any interference from our environment. Inner drivers include understanding our reasons for acting in a certain way, acting from our own bodily wisdom, and living courageously allowing our creativity to flow. When we are authentic we decide for ourselves without intervention from external authorities or events. But, the inside is a complicated place. Much of what is happening interiorly is due to externalities that we have taken onboard. Traumas, hurts, slights, and misconceptions have dug deep into the very sinews of our bodies, minds, and souls.
Outer drivers include cultural norms, and/or peer, social, and religious pressures to appear a certain way. Our actions, behaviors and outward manifestation can be driven from external forces. When what drives us is something bound up inside of us as a result of our environment, experiences, or traumas then it is these externalities that are driving us. Even external events experienced by our forebears such as famine, war, prejudice, or enslavement can be passed down epigenetically and drive our living experience.
When we feel pressured to adhere to a certain way of living, dressing, or acting or we ignore our own inner objections (such as ‘this doesn’t feel right’) but we do it anyway because we believe we will fit in better or be able to live more comfortably in our surroundings we are living from outer drivers and not our authentic selves.
Authenticity isn’t about being nice. Authenticity is about being true to our inner knowing about what right for us.
Authenticity isn’t about removing ourselves from our environment or our connections. It is about being creative and courageous to act in a way that is being true to who we are as we also live in our environment and nurture our connections.
Sometimes it is useful to sit with ourselves and ask the question? How does this feel inside? Suppose a friend asks you to do something. You immediately say, “Yes, of course I’ll do it,” because this is your friend asking and you want to please your friend. You don’t want your friends, family, society, or culture labeling you as bad, unkind, or selfish.
But inside something doesn’t feel right about it. This thing that your friend has asked you to do doesn’t align with your inner knowing of who you are, your core values, and what feels right. Realizing this you let your friend know, “This doesn’t feel right for me, so, no, not this time.” This is your authentic self shining through.
So what’s authentic? Acting to please your friend even though the action doesn’t align with your core values is not authentic. Letting your friend know that this action doesn’t feel right for you and so you won’t do it is authentic.
Take note here. It is not about your friend, it is about you. When we are authentic, we are not judging others, we are being true to ourselves.
We want to please our friends, our families, and our colleagues. We are compassionate and want others to rely on us. We want to feel included in our environment, community, and among our networks of friends, family, colleagues, and acquaintances. Something in us believes because we have been told this that this is the way to feeling whole, creative,and full of forward moving energy. But it isn’t. This is what ties us up in knots inside, binds our energy, and dampens our creativity. This is not the path to authenticity.
The process of discovering our authentic selves can have big consequences. It can take a long time and much effort.
So, it was with my own journey to authenticity. As a woman I felt a strong need to be able to make it in life with my own smarts and to depend on no one. After getting an MBA I began working in high tech. I got promotions and made a lot of money but was miserable. I was always trying to fit in, to prove myself, and to succeed according to what my environment defined as succeeding. I had the education, capability, and work ethic. Those were all there. But, something was missing. It had to do with truth, the truth of who I am and the misalignment between my essential true self and the expectations of the environment of my profession. It was all very subtle.
Years went by. Then it happened. On a business trip, my left foot began hurting so badly I could hardly walk. Getting to and from meetings was agonizing. I felt cut off and physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained. Finally the meetings were over and I boarded my cross country flight, slumped into a window seat and fell asleep. On waking, I looked out the window. There, thirty-three thousand feet below, the sparse and rugged southwestern desert was lit in golden light. In a flash, like a pop, it was clear. High tech is not for me. Immediately, I felt energy flowing and the pain subside in my foot. Two days later I quit my job and the unwinding began. My life began opening to me.