Shine On ‘Til Tomorrow (4 Illuminating Questions To Ask Today)

Sometimes, only a Beatles song will do. This being the case, I wanted to offer a soundtrack for this post (connected to the topic, of course.) So, once you’ve hit play on “Let It Be”…

…we can move on to the story.

I went on a retreat this weekend, and in the final hour we did yoga while “Let It Be” played. We’d been invited to move as we desired. I felt happy, flowing from one pose to another. My practice has grown a lot in the last year.

And then this voice started up from within. It said:  “Who are you to be showing off like this? Who are you to be doing these pretty poses? You’re being disruptive and selfish. Everyone will resent you, and it will be all your fault.”

I managed to push the voice aside and keep doing yoga. It felt great, and I knew my body needed it.

But as I lay down, things started coming up. I was on my back, tears running down my cheeks and into my ears. (Literally. It was a strange sensation.) The act of ignoring that voice — the one telling me to hem myself in– did it.

Suddenly, I was thinking about my brother, Willie. And in that moment, I understood something about how I’d lived my life up until that point.

Every time I have wanted to let myself ‘shine’ in a new way, I’ve faced this haunting fear. That fear speaks to me in (barely-audible) words:  “If you do [x, y or z], you’ll put even more distance between who you are and who your brother is. You’ll be abandoning him. You won’t be able to connect. And if you do manage to take a leap, I’ll make every step fraught with guilt, so deep-down you can’t identify it or shake it. Because your brother is who he is, you don’t deserve to be who you are.”

This was not a message I’d received from my family or friends, or from my brother himself. This did not come from anyone who loved me. I know that my brother’s autism doesn’t make him ‘less than’ me. I know I have my own disabilities as surely as he has his. Even so, I faced this fear.

Do you feel as though you don’t deserve a full expression of yourself?

As “Let it Be” was playing, I was able to hear truth. And love, not reasoning, was what broke through the fear.

Truth sounded like this:  “Let it be. Let your brother be who he is. I created him. He is not a mistake. He is a miracle. And let yourself be who you are. I created you. You are not a mistake. You are a miracle. You are my children. Just as you are so proud of Willie when he plays piano, he is so proud of you when you shine. He may not ever find the words to say it in this life, but because he loves you, he is proud of you.

Just as you want him to be free of his anger, he wants you to be free of your fear. Love one another, and be free. It is for freedom that I have set you free.”

Ever since that moment, I have felt as though some small yet weighty stone has been taken from my stomach. And I keep hearing confirmations of my experience in the words of writers I respect.

As Christiane Northrup, M.D., wrote in Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom,”We can’t create a new world if we believe that we must remain small and ineffective on any level in order for others to love us and want to be with us. When we dim our light so that others appear to shine brighter, the whole world gets darker.”

There it is again:  that fear of disconnection if we allow ourselves to be more fully who we are. I don’t think I’m alone in feeling it.

How has this fear (of disconnection as an inevitable consequence if you let yourself be who you are) impacted your life and relationships?

Frederick Buechner says it this way in Telling Secrets:  “This…was a rule I had…devastatingly laid down for myself:  that I had no right to be happy unless the people I loved– especially my children– were happy too.”

Substitute ‘successful’ for happy, and ‘brother’ for children, and you’ve got the rule I hadn’t realized I’d laid down for myself.

What ‘rules’ have you laid down, consciously or unconsciously? Is your rule something like, “I have no right to rest or take a break unless the people I love are asleep”?

Buechner continues, “I have come to believe that this is not true. I believe instead that we all of us have not only the right to be happy no matter what but also a kind of sacred commission to be happy– in the sense of being free to breathe and move, in the sense of being able to bless our own lives, even the sad times of our own lives, because through all our times we can learn and grow, and through all our times, if we keep our ears open, God speaks to us his saving word.”

I like to think of a ‘saving word’ as a truth that sets you free on a deep level. It can be a simple encouragement, or even a ‘wordless’ sense of perseverance in a difficult situation.

If you listen, what ‘saving word’ might you hear today?

I learned recently that a dear friend and L’Arche member likely has cancer. I don’t want him to suffer; I weep at the thought. Yet I’m determined to enjoy the time we have left, to let love focus my heart and soul and mind. I’m determined to be happy in the deepest sense, because I know this friend would want nothing less for me. That’s the ‘saving word’ I’ve heard today.

So tonight, I’m going to visit him. It’s been a long time since we just sat and talked. So tonight, we’ll have a beer together. We’ll clink bottles, and I’ll drink to celebrating life for as long as it lasts.

Fear, Exposed ~ Guest Post At TMF Project

Readers, today’s post is over at The Middle Finger Project ~ it’s the latest post in Ash Ambirge’s “Fear, Exposed” series.

You can find it here:  Fear, Exposed featuring Caroline McGraw.

I’m honored to be posting there. In case you were wondering, The Middle Finger Project is all about “rejecting the status quo & rebelling against mediocrity.” I recently did a digital strategy session with Ash via Skype (and wrote about the motivation behind that session here), so I can tell you ~ she’s one gifted, gracious, energizing person, not to mention a rock-star of a writer.

Be forewarned ~ TMF Project is addictive. You might want to go ahead and cancel your morning meetings, turn off your phone and not come up for air until you’ve read it from start to finish.

What can I say, except…I support that.

Welcome to A Wish Come Clear, readers from The Middle Finger Project! I encourage you to visit the (newly revamped) “About” page, where you’ll find crucial info. about what’s going on here, along with recommended posts. Facebook and Twitter links are here (also on the sidebar to your right, along with feed subscription and post categories.) I direct you to the Subscribe for free (Sign Me Up!) button (at the top right) for subscriptions via email.

Every time someone subscribes, an angel gets its wings.

(Well, okay. I do a happy dance. These may or may not be equivalent.)

Finally, in the grand TMF tradition, I’m pleased to inform you that my birthday is ALSO in June. Likewise, I enjoy (white) wine, (dark) chocolate and (gentle) massages.

Kick-Start Your Creativity: 4 Steps To My Brother’s Beat

*There are two exciting announcements at the close of this post!*

***

I have a confession to make:  I’m so excited to travel to New Jersey for a vacation next week. Before you start with the Jersey jokes, let me tell you why.

I’m going to see my family and friends. I’m going to sit in my pajamas and have coffee with my dad. My mom and I will, inevitably, watch Pride and Prejudice (the BBC version, of course.) I’ll see my friends Tammy and Niall (also known as Houseplay Designs and Houseplay Renovations) and hear about their growing, sustainability-focused business. My brother Willie and I will do puzzles and go for walks. He’ll probably have some behavioral challenges while I’m there. I’ll probably be afraid of him at least once.

But I’ll also get to hear him play the piano. And this, my friends, is a way for me to celebrate what is (rather than focusing on what isn’t.) Whenever I listen to him—really listen—tears come to my eyes. I’m so proud of him:  he stays on beat, moves the pedals and everything. (By contrast, I am rhythmically challenged. Keeping a separate rhythm with my hands and feet is next to impossible.)

Yet it’s more than that. Why does listening to Willie play affect me so deeply? And how can it help you move forward in your creative life?

Important clarification:  the phrase, “your creative life” will mean different things to different people, but it absolutely includes you. Creating a relationship is an art. Creating a home is an art. Creating a tradition of repeated Pride and Prejudice viewings is….well, maybe not quite an art…not yet…

That said, the word creative absolutely includes you and what you do each day! As such, here’s what I’ve learned about the creative life from watching Willie play:

1. When my brother plays the piano, he puts his all into it. There’s a vulnerability, a new side of him that comes out when he plays. He takes deep breaths, and focuses his attention. He chooses his songs with care, and he’s not afraid to show that the song matters to him. He’ll sing along, add accompanying beats and work until he likes the sound. He has autism, and he’s got talent. Making music is ‘his thing’ and he does it with all he’s got.

To ponder: Have you been holding back on your art? How can you get out of your own way and give it your best?

2. When my brother plays the piano, he plays until he gets it right. He’s tenacious, willing to play the same song over and over. (This is always admirable, and sometimes annoying.) True, I’ve seen him throw a tantrum when he’s not getting a piece right. More often, however, I’ve seen him simply begin again. Playing the piano is teaching him perseverance.

To ponder: Where in your creative life are you tempted to give up and give in? Does your art matter enough for you to stand firm and carry on?

3. When my brother plays the piano, he doesn’t wait for applause. While he does like to have people listen to him and say, “Good job!” afterward, he usually runs away as soon as he’s finished a song set. Call it modesty, or call it moving on…I think it’s just that he’s gained momentum. He’s ‘picked himself‘ to play, and he’s gained a burst of energy from that choice.

To ponder: Are you waiting for external affirmation in order to move forward? What if you ‘picked yourself’ and utilized that galvanizing energy instead?

4. When my brother plays the piano, it reminds me that my parents never gave up believing he could do it. They have found him good teachers, taken him to lessons, purchased the necessary equipment, enforced consequences when he breaks said equipment during behavioral episodes, and ensured that he has all he needs to begin again. They have affirmed his gift for music with their words and their actions, and he could never have come so far without their love and support.

To ponder: Who in your life has encouraged and supported you no matter what? Who sings at the threshold for you? How can you express your gratitude to them?

I’m so glad that my brother expresses his creativity through music, as I express mine through words. It makes me feel connected to him, because we are both artists.

It’s a funny thing:  “William” means “vehement protector” and “Caroline” means “song of joy.” Yet whenever Willie plays the piano and I listen, I feel those linguistic definitions shift, transforming us both.

To me, it’s worth living for:  to protect and celebrate the song I hear him play.

Namaste,
Caroline

Announcement 1: In further celebration of creativity, I’ve added 5 (!) fantastic ebooks to A Wish Come Clear’s Store. I made the decision with you, my wonderful readers, in mind. Thanks to your feedback, the updated Store has a much greater variety, both in terms of subject matter and in terms of price point. As you browse, remember that sales support both the authors and A Wish Come Clear. As always, I only become an affiliate for books I’ve personally purchased, read and found beneficial and relevant to this site’s mission. Enjoy!

Announcement 2: I’m supremely excited to share that I’ll have a guest post up at TMF Project this coming Monday, 3/28! The post will be part of Ash’s fabulous “Fear, Exposed” series. Be sure to check it out!