Re-membering who you are

Welcome to the ArtsBound Newsletter. Every Tuesday, I share three thoughts or insights meant to help performing arts students and young professionals flourish in their life and career. Today we’re looking at 1) how easy it can be to overlook our core need to be creative and expressive; 2) a Greek myth of dismemberment that shines light on the dilemma; and 3) methods for regaining our artistic spark. 

- 6-minute read -

(NOTE: I started ArtsBound because I believe the world would be a better place with more people living their true calling. If you know a student or young professional who is searching for their niche in the performing arts world, consider forwarding this email to them. If this email was forwarded to you, you can sign up to receive my newsletter every Tuesday. It's free.)

1. Being artistic while being an arts professional.

Most performing arts students who continue to pursue careers in the arts do not become full-time professional performers. For some, the lifestyle of a professional performer is not what they desire. For others, their skills or priorities lead them into teaching or administrative roles. Others will become writers, craftspeople, etc. (Of course, there are those who might want to become professional performers - and who could make it happen if they went for it - but don’t out of fear… but that’s a different newsletter.) 

Most who fall into this category, share a common dilemma: How to continue being artistic when your work doesn’t demand it of you.

This was one of the topics of conversation in my talk with Dr. Kim Councill in the most recent episode of the ArtsBound Podcast. Kim has been a music educator for 26 years, and just recently stepped into a full-time administrative role at Bucknell University. Kim was never a full-time professional performer, but her work always required her to sing or play her instrument as she worked with students… until now.

If you go back through other interviews in the Podcast, you’ll hear the same theme touched upon by many, whether its Aaron White, who learned after moving back to central PA that he’s more likely to get paid to teach acting than to be on stage himself, or Walt Straiton, who has found ways to still pick up a baton even though his work is primarily that of a sales rep.

For many performing artists, we choose to pursue work in this field because being expressive through our art is a fundamental part of who we are. But as work takes over, it can be easy to forget about this core element of our being. 

It’s important that we acknowledge our need to be musical, or dance, or create with others, etc. - and that we work it into our routine, the way that it was part of our routine when we chose the work we chose in the first place. Returning to your creative/expressive roots will not look the same for any two people. But I’ll wager that, if you’ve been missing it, you will feel a greater sense of wholeness in your life once you do.

2. The artist’s dismemberment at the hands of societal demands.

Content alert: This item contains a description of a Greek myth that is a bit gruesome.

Among the tremendous catalog of Greek mythology is a character named Procrustes. A son of Poseidon, he was a blacksmith and lived in a stronghold he made for himself along the sacred road to Athens.

Procrustes constructed an iron bed upon which he would force travelers to Athen to lie. By his prerogative, all men should fit the dimensions of the bed. Those who were too short would be stretched, and those who were too long would be cut off at the legs in order to fit.

The Procrustean Bed has been referred to by many contemporary writers and philosophers as an allegory for the conformity to societal standards expected of us all under a patriarchal society. We are stretched to work 9-5, maximize productivity, buy a big house, etc. Meanwhile, other parts of our lives - friends and family, leisure, meaningful hobbies, volunteer work, our emotional experiences, etc. - are suppressed or ‘cut off’.  

For many artists, our identity as such causes us to be too big for the bed. We see it on both individual and institutional levels (i.e. school arts programs) - when there is not enough to go around (time, money, energy, or attention), we are expected to cut out our creative activities that “don’t really contribute to the productivity of our ‘real’ work”.  

When we allow these core parts of ourselves to be cut off, we are left unwhole. We may be ‘more productive’ for a short while. But like a wound that doesn’t heal and therefore continuously loses blood, cutting off our opportunities to be creative/expressive pokes a whole in our psyche through which our lifeforce will slowly drain until we are empty.

3. Re-membering who you are.

In light of the theme of dismemberment found in the Procrustean myth, the concept of remembering what is most important to us takes on a whole new meaning. 

When we realize, as Kim expressed in our interview, “I miss singing” - and remember how much singing (or any other artform) means to us - we acknowledge that we’ve been subject to the Procrustean Bed, and we begin the process of putting ourselves back together.

Again, what it looks like in practice to reintegrate artistry into our lives is different for all of us. But I’ve come across several methods that can help to illuminate where you might have made some cuts and get you in the mindset for putting life-giving activities back into your routine. 

Here are a few methods that have been very power in my own life and in the lives of the performers and creatives with whom I’ve worked:

• Articulating core values: By determining what values (expressed as actions) are most deeply connected to your source of vitality, you can be intentional about living into them. You may find that being musical, creative, artistic, etc. is one of your core values outright, or that one of more of your values has historically found the most ease of expression through an artistic endeavor.

• Identifying core energies: By core energies, I mean patterns of behavior (including thoughts and perceptions, both conscious and subconscious) that you regularly put energy into or that guide your way of being. The best way I’ve found to do this is through the exploration of archetypes. You can do this through an established system (e.g. the Enneagram or Caroline Myss’s Sacred Contracts) or through reflecting on books, movies, and stories that resonate with you and the characters from those stories with whom you most closely identify.

• Writing a personal mission statement: Performing artists are often involved in numerous types of work and side projects. As a result, our lives may look and feel somewhat scattered, compartmentalized, or detached (dismembered!). Finding unity and integration in and across your various pursuits is key to tapping into and expanding your own personal sense of power. Look for commonalities in the efforts you are putting forth (articulating your core values is a great way to get started with this!), and see if you can summarize the work you are currently being called to do in one or two potent sentences. It’s important that you consider purely the work you are personally being called to do, without interference from the agenda(s) of companies, organizations, and/or institutions you may be serving through your work.

Having a guide to walk you through this type of work is always beneficial. If you or someone you know is in need or ‘re-membering’, don’t hesitate to reach out.

See you next week!

Lee

PS - I started ArtsBound because I believe the world would be a better place with more people living their true calling. If you know a student or young professional who is searching for their niche in the performing arts world, consider forwarding this email to them. If this email was forwarded to you, you can sign up to receive my newsletter every Tuesday. It's free.