We all know those sayings, 'paving your own path', 'going against the grain', 'marching to the beat of your own drum'.
pave ( verb): cover (a piece of ground) with flat stones or bricks; lay paving over.
I grew up in a city culture that praised high stress, fast growth, and monetary gains. Those things were often viewed as proof of 'real' work and hard success, and people around me preached it loud and proud. I'd always felt adamantly resistant to the notion. I believed I had a different (better) value system ... so somehow, I knew better than the mainstream. A strong-willed teenager, with a ton of privilege under her belt, I went off to study art history in at a liberal arts college, praising myself for the unorthodox path I was pursuing. Upon graduation, I wasn't certain of my direction, so I tried my luck with a couple of art galleries. Then, when I realised a postgraduate qualification would get me a raise in the industry, I went and did that. And then went straight into gallery sales. This was my whole 'different' shebang.
different (adj.): not the same as another or each other; unlike in nature, form, or quality.
People called me a free spirit, and I loved that people thought that of me. Being in the art gallery business allowed me to identify with a crowd of 'artists'; this niche circle that traded beautiful things with excess. I'd found a group that made 'different' and 'alternative' look sexy and lucrative.
On me, though, the look was a bit of an illusion. Or delusion, even.
delusion (noun): an idiosyncratic belief or impression maintained despite being contradicted by reality or rational argument.
The pandemic was my wake-up call. The company I was with began to crumble under financial pressure, the work environment soured, and I developed a toxic relationship with my career. I was gaslit by my employer to work unpaid for months, yet I couldn't bring myself to speak up for my rights, or to leave. I didn't myself, or my life, yet the idea of change was frightening. My identity had become unhealthily tied to a certain self-image.
I had built my adult life around an inauthentic version of myself. I chided people's attitudes around money and status, believing I was doing something greater. Whereas really, I was in a line of work that traded those same things, and along the way I had adopted a self-righteous attitude that left me feeling miserable and misaligned.
self-righteous (adj.) : believing that your ideas and behaviour are morally better than those of other people.
This attitude was my downfall. My assumption that I was unique, more so than others, was painfully wrong. There is nothing inherently wrong with choosing a path that takes us to the goals and freedoms we desire, whatever that might be. Everyone is unique, everyone has their own reasons and needs. I projected my insecurities, and my ego became the worst of me.
ego (noun): the part of the mind that mediates between the conscious and the unconscious and is responsible for reality testing and a sense of personal identity.
I've been protecting myself with this narrative for a long time. Perhaps it started with my subpar grades in math and science in middle school, and experiences with mild bullying then. More recently it's been sustained by my fear of conflict, which for years prevented me from working through this conflict within myself. Telling the self-righteous story that I was idiosyncratic, artistic, and misunderstood, was how I coped with what I saw as my weaknesses and gave attention to my strengths.
As this was all coming to surface, it became clear that this narrative protected me, but I had not done the work to coexist with my insecurities. Was I happy, when I wasn't getting the odd dopamine boost from work? Did I have a purpose? What did I actually believe about art? Was I contributing to the world in a way that felt right?
purpose (noun): the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.
A little over a year ago, I discovered art therapy. It came to me during meditation, which was something I'd newly adopted. I had been deep in regular talk therapy, in pursuit of a life more aligned. I wanted to integrate my love for art with my interest in human psychology, in a way that was serviceable to the world - and this finally felt right. Over several months, with much encouragement from family and friends, I quit my job, took a bunch of online courses, and applied to a training course to become a professional art therapist. It was a year of tremendous change and growth.
growth (noun): the process of increasing in size.
Marching to the beat of your own drum is a stunning thing. That is what I've always imagined myself doing, and that is what 'different' can mean. But you can't march proudly and strongly until you take the time to first listen - to the sounds around you, and to the rhythm that your heart finds in harmony. Whatever your drum looks like and is made of, that is what makes each of us unique, and what drives each of us on our own paths. The beat that emerges is your music piece.
piece (noun):
a portion of an object or of material, produced by cutting, tearing, or breaking the whole.
(or)
a written, musical, or artistic creation.
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