Being Authentic – A Lesson From My Dad

I got to spend some time today with my dad.   Dad is, and always has been, one of the most important and influential men in my life.   In some ways this is good, some make me want to stick my head in the oven, but for better or worse, he’s my dad and I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

I love, respect and admire this man, and if I’m honest, the reason we butt heads so much is because personality wise, we are similar.  Meaning?   If he thinks something I’m doing is bullshit, he won’t hesitate to tell me I’m being an asshole.  Or making poor choices.  Or acting like a stupid girl.  Or selling myself short.

Over the past few years, we’ve gone rounds over my life, my decisions, and my state of well being.   More often than not, I’ll end up in tears, because it kills me to disappoint someone, especially my father.    One thing I’m learning is that he doesn’t criticize me to be mean, he criticizes me because he sees way more potential in me than I allow myself to see sometimes.

I didn’t cry tonight, because, as he so eloquently put it, “It seems like you’re kind of making sense, Carrie.  I think you’re getting your head in the right place.   Finally.   Goddamn.”

We were talking tonight, as I answered emails from work (“Carrie put the fucking phone away!”), and he asked me “What are you doing, Rookus?”

What do you mean?  I’m working.  Duh.  Gotta pay the bills.

He said, “You’re working.  You’re not LIVING.  You’re not being who you are at the heart, because if you were doing that, you’d be PAINTING for a living, or writing, or even better, a combination of the two.   You have way too much talent to waste doing a job that keeps you from being who you are.   You’re an artist, and take it from me, you don’t want to wake up and be 50 something, wondering when it’s going to be time to follow your passion.”

(Side note:  My dad finally stopped following the money, and is now a college professor, with published books on the way and a book/cd of his original poems being pre-sold.  I’m crazy proud of him, because talk about talent?  Read some of his stuff. )

We talked about this, some of the creative ideas I have, how my work has evolved this past year into something worth way more than the price tags I put on it.   He said over the years I’ve painted some shit, stuff I knew was shit, but now, what I’m putting on canvas is real, and it comes from a place inside me that’s genuine.

Fear was a common theme of the night.  Fear to take a chance, to take a risk, and believe that I’ve got what it takes to support my family with my art and writing.   He said something that initially pissed me off.  He said I put a price tag on my paintings that is too low, because I fail to see what I’m worth.   Wow.  I could put that label on so many areas of my life.  Relationships, work, health.   Somewhere along the line, I set the bar low, and he’s right.  It’s out of fear.   Fear of failure, fear of disappointment in myself and others.

I started thinking how I feel when I create.  Whether I’m writing about something that really matters to me, or holding a brush in my hand.   When I open up to the creative process, I feel invincible, I feel amazing, I feel absolutely whole.   That’s when I’m just ME.  And I like her.  A lot.

So it’s time for me to shift my priorities, again.   It’s time to stop looking for distractions from the life I have, and start creating the life I want.   Which is scary, and takes balls, but I refuse to be frightened enough to box myself in to what I’ve been doing… and Lord knows I’ve got balls when I need them.

By being authentic, being Carrie 100%, I’m going to attract what needs to come into my life.   Now isn’t the time to force any change, except the changes I need to make to embrace the person I am.  Friend, mother, artist.

I love you, Dad.  Thank you for always being truthful with me, even if it hurts and makes me stomp my foot when I hear something I’d rather not.   And thanks for getting my watch back and serviced for me.   I feel bad ass and pimped out again.  XO