Letting Go of Fear … in Creativity, in Life

Fear is the antithesis of love. We are in fear when we bemoan our fate that we are not yet published. We are in fear when we relentlessly edit and re-edit and edit yet again something that, in all likelihood, is just fine. We are in fear when we overwork an aspect of our illustration, striving for some elusive perfection. It’s not that uncommon to think and behave this way. Most of us were raised to be good, to be perfect, to be loved conditionally. As were those who raised us.

And what we most need in our lives, our work, is not fear, but love. When we write and illustrate books for children, we always bring forth our best work when it is coming out of love … not anxiety about its success or perfection, or how well we are faring compared to others, or how much recognition we’ll gain. But love. It would seem so easy, but for so many of us it is not.

Below is the quote that I had mentioned in my last post. It is by Marianne Williamson, metaphysical teacher, and from the book A Return to Love, her reflections on  the principles of A Course in Miracles, published in 1975. All of Williamson’s work is focused on growing into our richest selves, letting go of fear and living truly in love. And I believe it has a profound meaning for us as we  venture forth as writers and artists, aspiring to light the way for children.

Everyday Grace

My deepest fear is not that I am inadequate.
My deepest fear is that I am powerful beyond measure.
It is my light, not my darkness, that most frightens me.
I ask myself, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who am I not to be? I am a child of God. My playing small
does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won’t feel insecure around me. I am meant to
shine, as children do. I was born to manifest the glory of God that is within me.
It’s not just in me; it’s in everyone.
And as I let my own light shine, I unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same. As I am liberated from my own fear,
my presence automatically liberates others.

These words struck me so deeply in their undeniable truth. As a writer and illustrator of children’s books, aspiring to bring my gifts to young people, I can soar to heights in joy as I work or tumble to crushing frustration. Fear. All fear. And though living lives through fear in varying degrees is common to so many people on the planet, it seems to almost be the inheritance of all sensitive, creative people. I know there is a better way; I’ve known for a long time, and so, I suspect, have you.

From time to time, books, individuals, ideas, etc.  cross our paths, and usually, at times when we are ready to take the next step out of fear and into grace … into love. This book has been sitting on my bookshelf for about 9 months, and through a mention of the quote above from a friend, I took this book from the shelf. It was time – there are no coincidences.

Living in love, free of fear, is a great challenge. We were not raised that way. Shaman and author Don Miguel Ruiz calls it “domestication.” It is all the same. And what’s so wonderful is that there is never a bad time  to take another step, to let go of fear and our belief that we should be small, to believe instead  in the love and brilliance we are.

I find A Return to Love an amazing book, as is A Woman’s Worth, both by Williamson. Perhaps an inspiration for you, too. Please also know, if it makes a difference to you, that Williamson’s writings do not espouse any specific religious orientation – her writing is of a spiritual nature, and so speaks to us all.

Scarecrow’s Dance – Jane Yolen and Bagram Ibatoulline

When I first planned on buying this book, I admit it was largely for the magnificent illustrations of Bagram Ibatoulline. I first came across Scarecrow’s Dance as a yet-unbound copy and part of an illustrating exercise at the NJ SCBWI Illustrators’ Intensive in 2008.  I was, and still am, utterly entranced by the rich, yet soft, colors at dusk, and the beauty Ibatoulline has created in the cornfields and farm setting. If you are an illustrator or one who appreciates excellence in illustration, this book is worth the cost of that alone. And the story, in the brief exposure I had to it at that time, was so touching as to bring me to tears, and it still does.

I eagerly awaited it’s publication with my primary interest in the art. It finally arrived so I could appreciate both story and text. Jane Yolen is the author of Scarecrow’s Dance, and recipient of the Caldecott Medal for Owl Moon, and many, many other awards in her rich and extensive writing career for children. As I examined this book more closely, several thoughts did cross my mind … as beautiful as I found the illustrations, would they appeal to the target age group, 4 – 8? Would a child that age lose interest in the dusky light’s subtlety on page after page? Would a barn described “as red as blood” be disturbing to a small child? Might some parents find both a child and scarecrow kneeling and praying to God a predominantly Christian message they may not wish to read to their child in a picture book story?

I don’t actually know the answers to these. I found the overriding message to be of the greatest importance, and that is finding who we are and knowing our place in the world to be unique and one of value. I think a parent reading this story to a child with the feeling Yolen has put into it, will easily impart that as the primary message, and it is very beautifully done in both word and image.

I visited Jane Yolen’s web site, and found a wonderful section just for us writers – lots of sound advice to guide us on our journey to becoming not just published, but still sane when we get there. Kathy Temean, the RA of NJ SCBWI, also posted 20 Yolen writing tips as transcribed from the recent SCBWI Conference in New York. All great stuff.

And then, Bagram Ibatoulline. I kiss the ground this illustrator walks on. His work is simply magnificent. In addition to Scarecrow’s Dance, he has done two books by Kate DiCamillo, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Toulane and Great Joy. He illustrated a beautiful book, Crow Call, by Lois Lowry, The Serpent Came to Gloucester, and many, many others. Next time you’re in a bookstore, I highly recommend you take a look at Ibatoulline’s work.

The Lost Symbol – Dan Brown

I’m trying to figure out – why didn’t I love this book?

I thought The DaVinci Code was terrific as was Angels and Demons, yet something was missing in The Lost Code for me. What Katherine Solomon was studying and what “The Word” was really all about are right up my alley, but was there too much of it? Was there more information about the Freemasons and the Masonic symbolism than was needed to keep the plot moving briskly?

As always, once I was reading, it was hard to put down, but away from it, I didn’t feel like I couldn’t wait to get back to it! Most strange. I still say that Brown has an excellent way of jamming suspense and intrigue into a very short timeframe in which the novel takes place, and for that I enjoyed The Lost Symbol. But something wasn’t right.

While I never saw it coming who Mal’akh actually was, I also found him to be somewhat of a 2-dimensional character. Yes, he was a psychopath at this point, but I don’t know if I was given ample reason to understand how he got that crazy considering his background. I also don’t recall the interior dialogue of characters in italics in previous books, though I just may not be remembering, and I’m not sure that I liked it.

I was fascinated by the information about the Washington Monument and the surrounding buildings and their architecture, but did so much factual information pull me away from the storyline? Was there just too much? Next time I’m in D.C., I will look at the buildings described in a very different light, no doubt, but I think I was being overwhelmed with non-fiction in a fictional account. I believe Dan Brown has a message – an important message about man and his future – that he wants to share. I like the message. I guess I’m wondering if Brown is conveying it in the most accessible way.

I’m puzzled. But then, who am I to criticize? These are just my perceptions, and I wonder if others share them or feel differently.

Dreaming the Dream

Dreams are very important. Not only do they assist and protect our physical and mental health, but they tell us things. Things we need to know.

Last night I slept an uninterrupted 8 hours for the first time I can remember in a very long time, and had a dream. It is a dream that comes to me at certain points in time, and always has something to tell me. The overall setting of the dream is more or less the same, but the elements and how they relate to my life situation at the given moment are different. I woke up this morning knowing what the dream had to say, and it was all good.

For many months I have been in strictly survival mode, dealing with one ailment after another, none life-threatening, but continually draining me. All my creativity was funneled into my design business and my web business, both at their peak of activity at Christmas, (what there was of it.) At the end of the day, I just faded. My dream of writing and illustrating children’s books was gathering dust in the corner.

And then came the bright spot, helping me pick the dream up, dust it off, and sit it right here next to me, it’s little face beaming with hope again. That bright spot was a meeting with my fellow facilitators of my local writing and illustrating group, HCCWIG. Although it was not my turn to be critiqued, the company of these creative, funny, warm and intelligent women infused my dream with life again, and I believe, helped me to also have that wonderful dream.

So today, I raise my (coffee) cup in a toast of cheer to (in alphabetical order — drum roll please) …. Cathy, Felicia, Laurie, Leeza and Sheri (and yes, even Little O) … for being the inspiring group they are. My dream is wriggling with excitement for when we can next sit down together and create something magical in children’s books. Thanks, guys!

The moral of the story: If you are a writer (or illustrator) feeling the need for support in your craft, be sure to seek out and find a local writers’ group — many are often listed on the SCBWI site. So check out and join SCBWI, too!  Reach out and find fellow creatives that share your dream, and who will be happy to hold its hand through the tough times and celebrate in the good.

Bones

Although I wrote this poem December 4 and had made a few edits, I intended to tighten it up further and submit it before the deadline to children’s book author David Harrison’s blog. He has a poetry contest each month, writing to a specific topic. December’s was “Bones.” I’m guessing with the holidays, my intentions got lost in the shuffle as I missed the deadline, so I’m posting it here. If interested, David’s topic for January is “Time.”

BONES

In violet, indigo and dusky blue,
they shadow their bones
across silver snow
in the sharp morning sun.

They bare their essence
and nod in silence
to admiring passersby.

Standing tall
in their most primitive selves
they are visions
of grace and pride.

I am Oak.
I am Ash.
I am Poplar.

Soon enough
Spring will come
cloaking their branches in
effusive greens,
in camouflage,
and playful disarray.

But for winter …

I am my bones.

Jeanne Balsam
December 2009