Confessing My Creative Sins, Pt. 2.5
Today, I thought that I would move on to Part 3 of my Confessions, but as I sit down to write, I find that it cannot yet be so. I need to dig a little deeper and give account...
In Pt. 1, I gave away permission. 
In Pt. 2, I gave away my heart.
Accounting
I gave away my heart to a concept of deity that does not exist. I gave away my heart to a capricious, arbitrary straw god.
If that god were truly God, I would turn my back on faith forever.
To my surprise and utter delight, there is far more to deity than I ever thought possible. Now, with complete confidence, I can turn my back on the straw god and my former diseased faith — and still know myself loved, blessed, and treasured.
Today, I thought that I would move on to Part 3 of my Confessions, but as I sit down to write, I find that it cannot yet be so. I need to dig a little deeper and give account. I need to make the connection:
How did that unhealthy faith, that diseased view of God lead to letting the world decide the direction of my life?
Itemized Deductions
Here are the relevant particulars:
I believed that it was my job to make God happy.
I believed that the only way I, as a human, could ever please God was to sacrifice that which I prized most about myself.
What I prized most about myself was my God-given creativity.
(Please to be noticing the emphasis. It will become increasingly significant as I move into Parts 3 and 4.)I lived in constant fear that God would one day demand that I give over my creativity to him, i.e. that he would take it away from me.
I suffered guilt, sorrow, depression, denial, rage, and bitterness. I hid these emotions. If I let them out, I let them out in my paintings, for which I was accused of being under the influence of demons.
(No, I’m not joking. #thatactuallyhappened)
Bottom Line
About halfway through this period in my life, I took some classes, did some personality tests, and put together a report on boundaries. In the process, I learned something about myself that I didn’t know.
Truth stepped up and slapped me in the face. I sat down hard on my posterior and blinked stupidly several times while my mouth hung open. The word “NO” rang through my mind. I wanted to flee into denial and lose myself there forever.
But I’m cursed blessed with a particular type of heartstring that resonates when I hear Truth. It will not allow me to shut my ears against it. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the “NO” from fading into weak echoes until it died away into silence.
After that, the only sound I could hear was Truth, and that Truth was this:
I have a difficult time setting boundaries — especially by saying “no” to others — because I am terrified of rejection.
Plain and simple, I say “yes” to things I shouldn’t, because I want everybody to like me.
“Oh,” you might be saying, “is that all? Pfft, doesn’t everybody have that problem?”
Well, maybe. It came as a great shock to me, however, because back then, I didn’t think of myself as a fearful person at all. (I had yet to realize on a conscious level that I feared the loss of my creativity to a capricious deity.)
I thought I was rather brave, really. I could listen to people tell horror stories of what was happening in their lives — and carry myself through such conversations with aplomb. I could traverse Europe alone on a train and cross the Atlantic in a plane by myself, all without batting a single mascaraed eye. I could step between a friend and a strange guy downtown at night and face the stranger down until he slunk away.
Me, scared? Ha!
Withdrawals
But then came the classes and the quizzes and the report on boundaries, and I had to be able to face myself in the mirror. I couldn’t deny Truth and live with myself. So I admitted it: I was addicted to others’ approval. And once the admission came, one illusion after another broke apart around me.
I have a problem setting healthy boundaries.
I fear rejection.
I feared that God would reject my very Self by taking away the most basic part of me.
I feared that other people would reject me if I pursued my creativity along its natural path and to its natural conclusion.
So when I realized that the world around me rejected my art, I gave it up in order to gain approval.
Closing the Account?
When an acquaintance expressed disapproval of my high fantasy oil paintings, I took them off my walls and hid them away.
When a confidante said that I was letting down my co-workers by devoting time to my stories, I let the writing slide.
When a mentor opined that writing fiction is a waste of time and doesn’t help people, I inwardly disagreed but did not defend myself.
The end result, of course, was a spiritual, emotional bank account that hovered right around zero most of the time. Since I’m still alive, I’m assuming I didn’t accrue a negative balance at any point.
Balance
Actually, I know I never got into the red: because somehow, through all of it, I just couldn’t let go of this dream that one day, I would write fulltime and become a published author. Somehow, somewhere in the back pocket of my soul, I kept a little piece of grace that whispered, “Don’t let the darkness win. Do not give in. There is still hope.”
That hope was real. That grace was real. Those were not the words of an arbitrary, demanding straw god.
That was Love talking.
Waiting for me to stop ignoring it.
Come back next week, and I’ll tell you how I started to listen.
_______________________
In the meantime, share your thoughts with me, my dears. I know some of you have been through this. I know some of you are going through this. Please share your insights. Tell your fears. The comments section is open to you, and it is a safe place because it is mine. I’m not going to let anyone bite you.
And if they try, I’m going to show them some very distinct, immovable boundaries.
More power to ya! I’m glad you didn’t let go of the creativity that God gave you – he doesn’t give gifts for nothing!
I just wonder, is the “published” piece of your dream also tied to the acceptance of others, or can your God-given creativity find fulfillment without an editor’s acceptance?
Steeeeeeeve! Great to see you here! Thank you for commenting. 🙂
I love that you asked this question. The fact of an editor’s acceptance/rejection is definitely something every writer has to consider at some point — provided, of course, that the writer in question intends to publish.
I have always intended to publish, one way or the other. Not because I need an editor’s acceptance or the “acclaim” of fans, but simply because for me, being a storyteller means having an audience to whom I can tell my stories. The need to publish is inherent in the nature of the gift. In order to be a storyteller, I must have someone to whom I tell my stories.
Though my family and friends make a good audience, they’re not my true target audience. To reach my target audience, I must put my work out into the world. Putting my work out into the world means getting it edited. So, yes, the editor’s eventual acceptance of my work is crucial, and I cannot find fulfillment without it.
But my need for an editor’s approval is very different from my addiction to approval within my personal life. When I seek approval within my personal life, when I seek to satisfy that addiction, I’m abandoning the God-given creativity. I’m selling out.
But when I seek an editor’s approval, I’m asking the editor to help me identify and make the necessary changes so that the work can eventually reach the target audience. In this case, I’m fulfilling the God-given creativity.
In order to fulfill the true potential of the God-given creativity (culminating in the telling of my tale to the target audience), I must have the editor’s help and, in the final analysis, the editor’s approval. The work is not complete until the telling-to-target-audience has taken place.
So, yes: the fulfillment of my dream is tied to the acceptance of others — but only in a way that is natural and right and beneficial.
My addiction to approval is a bottomless pit.
But my need for editorial acceptance is just another step toward the pinnacle.
Aaaaaaah, okay – that makes sense. It’s not about “please validate me” but rather “please help me be better”
Makes sense.
Oh – and I’m glad to be here as well 🙂 Glad you’re blogging.
Me too!!! It took almost a year, but Aaron finally talked me into it…and I’ll freely admit that he was right. I should’ve been doing this all along. 😉
And Steve — your summary of “please help me be better” vs. “please validate me” is what I should’ve said in the first place. Thanks for condensing my long explanation into something so succinct. I like it! : )