Esteem

We interrupt your regularly scheduled inktober post for this rambling public service announcement...

Life isn't fair.  Some people are mean.  Take away their power.  Let go & live your life!

There seems a persistent theme in life, and especially in art circles.  "I was told I'm awful, so I can't ________."  It pops up as "the monkey" in our SBS discussions.  Who do you blame?  How do you overcome it?  The discussion ebbs & flows.  I had some brilliant thoughts about this.  As brilliance goes, it was a flash & I forgot the rest.  Dang.  Here's what I remember.

1) I have the power.

I was fortunate to have supportive parents and an art teacher who cheered me on.  College professors were relatively kind.  I was blessed.  However, I was also a shy awkward geek with a few close friends.  We were sometimes antagonized and mostly ignored by the "cool" kids.  We didn't let them rule our lives.  I still liked school.  I still participated.  Sure, I often felt sorry for myself, but that's called being a teenager.  Eventually I realized the only one who could make me feel better about me... was ME.  You know - you have to love yourself before others can - stuff like that.  Does that mean it's all sunshine & daisies now?  Of course not.  That annoying inner critic is always lurking.  A good support system helps, but I'm the only one who truly has the power to soften that voice.

2) Teachers/parents/humans are NOT all horrible because one of them was crappy to you.

A recent Sketchbook Skool assignment revolved around drawing your first day of school from imagination.  Many drew a less-than-great memory of mean teachers and /or critical parents.  My kindergarten & 1st grade teachers were kind.  My 2nd and 3rd grade teachers were completely awful.  One slapped a friend right out of her chair.  4th through 12th were mostly good, some great, none awful, well, except the monotone government teacher.  I've compared notes with friends and - public or private - some teachers suck & some teachers were miraculous, with a whole variety in between.  Pat yourself on the back for surviving the inept.  Report the awful.  Thrive with the good.  Isn't that really how it is with grownup life?  We share this world with some horrid evil people and some incredibly saintly folks.  I believe the rest of us fall in between and weigh the scale more heavily towards good.  You just have to look closely and SEE the human being in the sour faced stranger at the post office.  And, of course, behind the wrinkles in the mirror.

You have the power.  Life is beautiful, if you let it be.