On leaving Science for the Arts

"The most common despair is... not choosing, or willing, to be oneself, [but] the deepest form of despair is to choose to be another than oneself."
-- Soren Kierkegaard

I made the decision to leave academic science shortly after publishing my first first-author manuscript in the peer-reviewed journal Drug and Alcohol Dependence. This, the body of work of my Master's thesis, was among four other peer-reviewed publications and a book chapter I had co-authored as a Doctoral Candidate. When taken alongside the positive feedback I received from my mentors, these resume line items suggested that I had a promising career as academician and scientist. But with my increasing achievement in academe, I felt diminishing satisfaction with my life in all its day-to-day details and a deepening sense of despair. 

As I built an identity on the basis of my intellectual achievements, institutional affiliations, and other ego-driven pursuits, I fashioned an increasingly weighty mask that veiled my essential Self in a shroud of success. I had to minimize my quirks and eccentricities, compulsions to draw, paint, and create, and even my penchant for florid prose, in order to function effectively as an academic scientist. And yet this is what I chose to do. This was both my doing and my undoing. 

In working and living within the realm of scientific ideas, I failed to acknowledge my humanity, my feelings, my artistry, and my sense of spirituality. I denied myself as a creative, loving Being, and nurturing woman on a daily basis. I told myself that I could be an Artist when I retired; but if I've known that I am an Artist since as early as I can remember, then why should I wait?

To be fair, I didn't know that I wasn't meant to be a scientist until I tried it. I mean, I would get lost in the "flow" when doing scientific research, but my body betrayed my soul with its persistently furrowed brow, knotted-up shoulders, and chronic tension headaches. It's true that I felt a certain degree of satisfaction with each scientific or academic achievement unlocked -- but it never brought me happiness, and certainly never any joy. It was about as rewarding as an self-induced orgasm -- somewhat satisfying but ultimately pretty pointless. In Science, I always felt like I was a small cog in some great machine cranking a strange machine much larger than me -- I was just a small, predetermined nut within a larger tool, but a tool nonetheless. 

In contrast, today, I consistently find myself beaming when I hold a pencil or paintbrush, my soul skipping delightedly in serene fields of imagination as I stand before a blank canvas -- god, why does creating, and color, and canvas, always make me smile so stupidly large?

As an Artist, I find myself feeling not only connected with others, but also with myself. I have a sense of unity with and interdependence on my fellow man without having to sacrifice my creative impulse, artistry or individuality. I am both unique unto myself and a citizen of humanity at the same time. My art brings me a tremendous sense of purpose, joy, and lightness of being. I am complete.

On greeting the day with gratitude

"When a woman has owned her passionate nature, allowing love to flood her heart, her thoughts grow wild and fierce and beautiful. Her juices flow. Her heart expands. She has thrown off crutch and compromise. She has glimpsed the enchanted kingdom, the vast and magical realms of the Goddess within her... a miracle occurs and life around her begins again."
-- M. Williamson

This morning, I am particularly grateful for having found the life and light of my essential Self. 

I am joyful that today, I choose not to live up to anyone's expectations or according to someone else's rules, and instead follow the enlightened lead of my divine Self. I cast aside a conventional career and life trajectory, the safety of a well-worn path, in exchange for creativity and freedom. I am completely free to choose the people I surround myself with, the ideas and information I feed my brain, the thoughts I entertain, the feelings I let linger or let go; my limitations, like my problems, are strictly of my own making and perception. I take care to feed my whole self -- mind, body, and spirit -- the nutrients it needs not just to survive, but to flourish, bloom bountifully and thrive. 

Today, I am grateful for my life and my sobriety, my good physical, emotional, and psychological health, my reliance on a Higher Self, the love and support of true friends and loved ones, a roof over my head and food to eat, and having more luxuries than needs. I have deep gratitude for all that I have instead of grasping feebly for what I have not. I am grateful for greeting this morning, like every morning, with fresh, new, eager eyes, and the pulse of positive energy that courses through my veins. I am grateful for a hot cup of coffee keeping my hands warm on the patio, and the cat purring in my lap. 

I find that each day I greet with thoughtful meditation and gratitude unfolds immeasurably greater than I could ever expect. These days are not just good, but sublime -- not because of what I do, or what happens to me, with me, or around me -- but because of who I am, the lens through which I choose to see the world. 

I am grateful for beginning again the miracle of life, and greet with open arms whatever today may bring.

How do I love myself unconditionally?

"i found god in myself
& i loved her
i loved her fiercely."
-- Ntozake Shange

One of the simplest, yet most profound realizations of my adult human life is that of unconditional self-love -- that idea that I acknowledge, accept, and embrace all aspects of myself, both the shadows and the sublime. 

Loving the totality of my being is not some theoretical exercise or thought experiment. It is something that I practice, daily, and through action. 

I practice unconditional self-love by doing loving actions for myself on a regular basis, and regardless of how I'm feeling at the moment; in fact, it's especially important that I practice self-love when I'm feeling low or negative, or when I feel the least deserving of love, since this is what makes my love unconditional. 

Loving actions are those that I perform with the intention of unconditional love -- those things that I would do for someone whom I loved very deeply with no expectations of receiving anything in return. These are the actions that most often make me feel good about myself -- either in the immediate moment (e.g., practicing yoga; taking a lavender bubble bath; massage), or after the fact, upon reflection (e.g., taking a nasty-tasting medication as prescribed).

I find that by acting more and more loving toward myself, I feel more and more loving toward myself -- and my heart, immeasurably large, grows greater still. By regularly practicing self-loving actions, the actions become habits, and I find that my default mode becomes one of unconditional self-love. So the attitude of self-love is cultivated over time, and becomes the norm from which I might deviate.

Obviously, there are times when I don't act with pure unconditional love, and when I act with anger, fear, and/or other negative intentions. If upon reflection, I find that my intentions were negative, or that my actions could have harmed myself or another human being, I allow myself to feel bad for a moment, then turn my attention toward what needs to be changed in my attitudes, thoughts and/or behaviors going forward. I make the changes, and I forgive myself for making mistakes. I forgive myself for not practicing unconditional love toward myself (and others) perfectly.

And so it is that by treating myself with lovingkindness, I become more patient, more kind, more tolerant and loving toward myself and others -- one act of love snowballs into Love, and I grow in my capacity to connect meaningfully with my fellow man. 

Today, I am grateful that as a simple human being, I can honor my connection with the Universe and all sentient beings by loving unconditionally, by practicing taking loving actions toward myself and others. 

NASCI (I arise)

"If a person becomes more conscious, naturally his character is transformed. But that transformation... is not managed by the mind -- it is natural, it is spontaneous. And whenever your character is natural and spontaneous it has a beauty of its own." (Osho)

Today, I feel joyful, serene, quiet and contented, as I have been for weeks now. I don't quite understand what brought about this transformation, but I accept it gratefully instead of frenetically seeking to understand its root causes. All I know is that the "I am" of me has been found, uncovered once again to live in and rejoice in it.

The peaceful joy that arises from living in my authentic self is my new default mode, and it is noticed by others before I even saw it myself. People tell me that I'm glowing. People tell me that I have an "aura" of "bright," "joyful," "zen," "energy" about me. People tell me that they want to have what I have inside of me -- "Can I have some of that?" --  an inextinguishable flame and lightness of being.

Somewhere along the process, I realize that I stopped "becoming" an Artist, and just started "being" an Artist. I just started being me, embracing my totality and living from the place of unconditional love which is my essential Self. It is no exaggeration that this relapse and rebirth process has been the most profound realization of my life to date. Every event, every process, unfolded exactly as it did in order to allow me to shed my old skin, ego, and ideas, and embrace my essential Self as a being of love. I needed to break through the pain of an ego shattered, a small "me" annihilated, so as to rise above, transcendent into a higher level of consciousness.

I embrace my past pain and suffering with deep gratitude, for the new Self that was forged in the flame and arose from the dead lives, truly, fully and honestly lives, in unconditional love, joy, and bliss. I transcended the pain. I transcended a small self. I have been reborn, yet again, at a higher level of consciousness and in a new realm of existence. 

Each step I take, I take with the totality of my Being and with unconditional love. Each breath I take,I take with the totality of my Being and with unconditional love. I find a serene smile seemingly permanent across my face, bursting forth from the glow within -- I can't stop smiling, I just can't stop smiling -- and I know it's because I'm just being me.

I am thankful to the Universe for walking me through the suffering and into a greater understanding of life. I AM DANA -- ARTIST IN RECOVERY.

NASCI.

My art is my reconciliation.

More on Letting Go

4 October 2014

I overheard an interesting comment today about an addict's relationship with their drug of no-choice: 

"I love to get high... the problem is that that relationship isn't working for me anymore -- [the drug] isn't working for me anymore -- [the drug] doesn't love me back any more, it doesn't want me around any more... So it's time to move on from that relationship, as hard as it is to let go."

As easy as it is for me to let go of my relationship with alcohol, I still find it hard to let go of my relationship with Jason at times. Why is that? Is it something to do with me, or with the relationship?

I love him still, of course, as my love for him is unconditional. It just is what it is. Our relationship is another thing, however, distinct from both Jason and I as individuals. I love myself unconditionally, I love Jason unconditionally, but I find that I do not love, or even like, our relationship right now. And my relationship with Jason isn't loving me back right now either -- it just isn't working for me. 

I can keep giving Jason unconditional love through the relationship I maintain with him if I so choose, but I have to realize that I'm not receiving unconditional love from him in return. Jason is not uplifting to my spirit or to my recovery in this new relationship he's defined. He is not providing me with insight into his own psycho-spiritual growth processes. Do I want Jason to keep reflecting back to me the pain I've already suffered again and again? I am no masochist. Do I want or have the energy to devote to maintaining a long-distance platonic relationship with him? We do have plenty in common, as he was (and maybe still is?) my best friend. Can I afford to use my limited energy resources maintaining a platonic friendship half way across the country? I am striking out on a new direction in life as an Artist, and need to take the plunge with the totality of my being's energy in order to realize my dream. What opportunities for growth, self-actualization, and connection with others who are available emotionally and spiritually am I missing by maintaining a relationship that isn't working? And, as he points out, may never work again? I can't afford to hold on to old ideas for the sake of nostalgia, or out of habit; I am casting aside pet hypotheses and shedding bad habits as I continue to grow into this new skin.

It's not just the physical distance that bothers me, but the emotional and spiritual distance. I have true, good, honest friends who have the utmost faith and confidence in me, and then there's Jason. Simply put, I don't feel loved and supported in my relationship with Jason as it has been in the last several weeks. I don't feel nurtured and encouraged. I don't feel remembered and validated. The painful truth is that this relationship in its new form is not working for me. It has occupied entirely too much mental real estate for entirely too long. Maybe it wasn't too long, though -- maybe it was just long enough for me to learn to let go of this relationship, through which I've suffered and so learned a great deal.

Maybe this relationship with Jason has already taught me its life lessons. Forever teachable, I have learned and grown tremendously as a result.

But maybe it's time for me to let "us" go. Maybe the sole purpose of that relationship was to help me actualize my Highest Self -- Dana, Artist in Recovery -- and now that I am here, it's time to release Jason and allow him to continue along his own life's journey, and to find his own life's purpose, happiness, and bliss, as I have found mine and grow deeper in it.

Where am I going here? I realize that I love Jason, and I always will. But I realize also that the relationship in its present form, or how it has been for the last many weeks, is not working for me any more. As such, I have to let "us" go. I have to let go of the relationship in its present form so that other relationships in a higher form can occupy that place in my heart -- be it with a more highly evolved and healed Jason, or with another highly evolved partner who is capable and willing of loving me exactly as I am today, exactly where I am today.

The space that Jason has in my immeasurably large heart will always and forever be limitless, as it is born of unconditional love. The space that our old relationship occupied has been released, so that I have the opportunity to grow further. 

I will continue to grow and to evolve in my intimate relationships with others -- be it by continuing to explore my bisexuality through intimate physical relationships, or to explore greater psychological growth growth through intimate emotional and polyamorous relationships, or to explore greater consciousness and spiritual growth through intimate physical, emotional, and psychological relationships. 

By this same token, I release Jason to experience his own psycho-spiritual growth through his own intimate relationships. It may be the case that Jason will one day want a new, healthy relationship with me that is founded in unconditional love and trust, and it may be the case that he will not, or that I will not, or that I will be unavailable when his time comes.

I trust that the Universe will actualize whichever outcome is is meant to be, as I live confidently, secure in the light and love of my Higher Self -- Dana, Artist in Recovery.

On Letting Go

3 October 2014

Nights are often the hardest for me. My soft sweatpants, cozy blankets and gentle whir of the white noise machine are no match for the striking stillness and quietude of a night spent in solitude. I stopped wearing his t-shirt to bed weeks ago, but I'm still acutely aware that it sits in my armoire, alongside his long johns, long sleeved shirt and paint splattered pants. I wonder if I should keep them for now or if I should donate them, but I hesitate to put the question. 

I ache to cuddle, to nuzzle up and wiggle in as his little spoon. I ache for his touch, his sweet musky scent, and his warm breaths on my back, then slash the remembrance from my mind's eye almost immediately -- I've already learned from this suffering, and refuse to be imprisoned in the past by projecting the images of a relationship he said was destroyed. Each time the film is projected, I suffer again; I am no masochist, so I avoid the self-flagellation. It's been another good day, long and draining, and so I sink with ease into the warmth and comfort of my own skin.

Stripped of him and my memories, I'm left with only my self. I pause and observe how I feel. I feel centered and still, perfectly grounded in the present moment. I am alone but not lonely. I am not tired, and my mind slowly meanders in time. The racing thoughts that kept me awake each night for days on end are gone, and have been for some time now. I don't even know when this overwhelming sense of peace came over me, really, or exactly why. I speculate that coming to rely on my Higher Self for serenity may have had something to do with it. Everything is exactly where it should be, as it is right now, and my acceptance eases what began as a much more difficult night. My pain mellows more each time that I practice, and I examine my vessel closely. I feel whole and content, completely serene.

When I turn my mind's eye to my persistent ache for affection, I realize that I've been starving for human contact, for simple human touch. I swallow hard and allow this thought to continue for a moment. This will have to be discussed too, I realize -- preferably in person, but more likely over the phone. Instead of imagining the different outcome scenarios, I table the thought for later. First I need to clarify to myself what, if anything, above and beyond him it is that I am missing -- and then, whether this is a need or a want.

I miss physical affection and intimacy proper -- not just sex, but how holding hands magnifies feelings of love in me. I have so much love to give, drawn from deep within the endless pool of my Higher Self. It pours out of my every pore, and bathes me in a warm bath of divine light. Having realized the gift of unconditional love within myself, I have so much of it to give. It would be nice to share that gift with another person again. 

Would it just be nice, or do I need to satisfy some basic drive as fundamental as thirst?

I am so thirsty.

I remember the night that Onikkae put their arm around me as I sat sobbing, and the warmth that flooded over me as the weight lifted from my chest. I put my head on their shoulder, sighing deeply into my exhaustion. I felt completely drained and fully whole, this beautiful empty vessel extended outward in love and light. My pain had found its match in love, and this divine love amplified my own through this simple human gesture.

I have so much love to give.

I realize that the question of whether I am sufficiently healed to give love to another has been answered before it was asked, but that my other queries have found no such resolution. 

Time will tell.

On Unconditional Love

I meditated on what my suffering has taught me about unconditional love.

I first realized that until I could accept myself fully, surrendering to the fact that I was, indeed, an alcoholic (among many other facets, positive, negative, and neutral) -- and could love myself not in spite of my imperfections, but because of them -- I would never know the meaning of unconditional love. 

I would never know unconditional love for myself if I chose to embrace only my Light aspects, and not the Dark. I could not ignore the shadows as if they weren't there, because then I would never love myself completely. I could not hold the belief that I could become all Light if I just worked on it hard enough, so that some day, I would become "deserving" of unconditional love. If I needed to be "x" in order to be lovable, then this love would be, by definition, conditional. If I loathed my Darkness -- a necessary counterbalance to my Light, part of the human condition, part of me -- then I could never truly love me, unconditionally. 

The beauty of my Higher Self -- the Light -- is the perfect way in which it can love an imperfect "me," shadows and all. My Higher Self embraces a little "me" in its totality, acknowledging that without this exact arrangement of Light and Dark, I would cease to be "me." 

I am the totality of both my Light and the Dark -- I am Dana, Artist in Recovery.

Just as a pure white canvas remains blank until inked, so I stand, human, inked by learning and experience. Beautiful and unique. My life is my art.

Should my paint spill, seemingly accidentally, creating an unexpected splash of color (as it did this summer when I relapsed), then I pause and reflect on the "mess." I wait for the pigment to dry. I take a look at this newly created pattern, which was not part of my plan for this portrait of me. Then I realize that perhaps I had been trying too hard to make the near-sighted vision of a little "me" a reality. I had to let go. Perhaps I needed to create this spill in order to step back and to see the canvas as a whole, to limn the greater vision of a Higher Self.

The spill in my portrait is painted into harmony with the whole when I remove the little "me" and allow my Higher Self to hold the palette and pen. The dismal spill becomes the painting's most interesting feature -- an unexpected and beautiful twist in what otherwise may have turned out to be a conventional landscape.


As I love this unique painting -- me in my totality, my whole self, my life -- I see my capacity for unconditional love. I understand that I love this painting not in spite of what was an unexpected spill, but because of what was painted into it when the spill happened. The Light and the Dark are inextricable, and my Highest Self embraces all of me in the Light, shadows and all, not in spite of the Dark, but because of it. So I love myself, unconditionally.

Just as this magnificent capacity for unconditional self-love has been unlocked and actualized within me, I see that it is now available for me to give freely to others. Because I could love myself unconditionally, I could now love another human being, unconditionally, completely, and without abandon. I've grown in my capacity for love for other human beings, and my heart swells, immeasurable large, brimming with the joy and Light of a love amplified and ready to be shared.

I start by practicing acts of unconditional love with the people who surround me. I am patient, I am nurturing, I am tolerant, I am kind. People notice and ask me why I'm glowing -- I'm glowing again! I can't wipe the serene smile off of my face, and it's been weeks ongoing.

My thoughts turn to Jason. I can love him, unconditionally, at a distance -- and I do, sending him my artwork, letters, notes, and musings to show him that I care, with no expectation of love in return. I show him that I love him through my actions and with my words, and this does not depend of whether he acts of of love toward me, showers me with love, or otherwise tells me that he loves me. I grow in my capacity for unconditional love in real time, and through practice.

This unconditional love -- first towards myself, and then toward other human beings -- is a realization of my Highest Self, a treasured, divine, and eternal gift of the Universe. 

I transcend all circumstance on this newly found gift. It was there all along. I just needed to unlock it.