Piss (some) People off: A how-to (1)
Love your life. Do work you love and balance this with rest and reflection. Own your story. Spend time growing relationships of mutual respect and delight. Decide you would rather disappoint than resent someone. Notice and name moments of contentment to yourself and aloud. In other words, live joyfully. There are some surefire ways to piss (some) people off.This year I learned this the hard way.Happily, I reckon time by a calendar built around school: when it begins, when holidays and breaks come along, final exams, when it rushes to a close as summer swerves into view. Then August arrives announcing that summer vacation is almost over. The calendar will begin from the top once more. Before the plunge into a fresh academic schedule, here’s a brief review of the past year and what I learned about pissing (some) people off.
Do Work You Love
Last year I became a full time graduate student in the Master of Fine Arts (non-media specific program) at California State University, San Bernardino. Go Coyotes! It took a week or three, but soon I felt right at home in the art department. In fall I signed up for an undergrad studio class in 3-D design along with the required graduate seminar and critique. In winter I took woodworking. This also involved getting familiar with a blowtorch! In spring I tried my hand at beginning glass. On the side I experimented with clay. I also worked part-time as the student assistant, to the chair of the department, for an initiative that displays student work in administrative offices all over campus. In spring quarter, I celebrated my birthday by proposing and putting together a solo exhibit. (More about that another time.)Throughout the year, I was asked, How do you like your program? Or, someone would comment, It looks like you're having a blast! because of my pictures on social media. I’d cheerfully gush about the week’s studio adventures.[gallery type="slideshow" size="large" ids="4740,4739,4735,4734,4738,4737,4733,4732,4736"]
Rest & Reflection
As I found the new rhythm of my life and adjusted it each term, I included journaling, walking, and reading when not in the studio. At the start of the year, I reached out to my counselor for a series of tune-up sessions. I realized that I want to engage more fully with life and grapple with limiting beliefs.I was working with her when, some time in November, I worried that I might be just a bit too happy.This worry was a reaction to meta-realities as I wrote here. However, I gradually began to sense something more subtle, more personal fed my sense of occasional unease. When I talked about my life—busy in the studio, surrounded by helpful people, exploring new experiences without fear—I often noticed a shade pass across the face of my listener. They might nod and smile, but there was a distinct change behind the eyes.It took a bit of reflection to realize what I saw: Envy. This visible shift happened often enough that I began to feel lonely. Who could I talk to freely? Should I play down the delight of mastering the bandsaw? Minimize the level of kindness I’d experienced? Apologize for having the freedom that comes with adult children and (finally) a second car? Make up something to be miserable about like aches and pains, or family finances, or my children’s choices? Would it be worth it to avoid the look of envy and the loneliness that followed?
Further Reflection
I took these questions to my journal.
Then I took them to my counselor. Gradually, I realized that listeners envious of my joy were struggling with their own issues. Harriet Lerner frames it this way in her book The Dance of Anger:
We are left feeling helpless and powerless. We do not feel in control of the quality and direction of our lives. Our sense of dignity and self-esteem suffers because we have not effectively clarified and addressed the real issues at hand."
My accounts of studio exploits, friendly faculty, and lively class discussions bumped into the sense of helplessness and lack of quality some listeners held about their own lives. My joy triggered envy (and anger?) that flashed at me—an easy target. Oh. I get it. I've been there. Judge/envy/suspect someone rather than face your own unhappiness and distress.Brené Brown’s words bear repeating:
When we surrender our own joy to make those in pain feel less alone or to make ourselves feel less guilty...we deplete ourselves of what it takes to feel fully alive.”
I've been fortunate to have options—a library card, a journal, decent insurance that helps cover counseling—and done the work that leads to wellness. It took some time to metabolize the envy syndrome that my joy (sometimes) triggers. I had to gently remind myself: I am not responsible for others' feelings. I decided I will not surrender my joy or live a smaller life to make others more comfortable. I will do work that I love and balance it with rest and reflection. And hazard the consequences!What about you?Are you ready to piss (some) people off?
Ahead: Piss (some) people off (2): Own your story.