Blog - Melissa Dinwiddie | Create the Impossible™ | Innovation Keynote Speaker & Consultant

July 31, 2010

Weekly Review #18: The back spasm edition

So how’m I doing in my quest to re-invent my life, follow my evolving Blisses and create the life I really, really want?

Timing is everything.

I started writing this through a lens of back spasm pain. I was sitting at my computer, and except for being tired (as usual) from staying up too late (as usual), I was feeling pretty okay.

Then wham. Sudden spasm up and down the entire right side of my back. You know those big muscles that parallel your spine (the name of which I really should know, since I did go through basic anatomy during yoga teacher training…)? Yeah, that one, on the right. Oy.

Suffice it to say that this week, this sits squarely in the What’s Hard category. A back spasm, and a gig in a few hours. Not good.

My chiropractor was fully booked all day with a hard leave-by time, so no help from that arena. However, my fantabulous samurai massage (ie, serious deep-tissue massage) guru, Cindy, who was just about to leave for the day, was available for one more massage.

Hot damn!

Timing is everything.

I’ve been saying for ages that when money isn’t so tight the first item on my agenda is to book regular massages with Cindy, who makes me quite literally groan and sometimes even cry in pain (“what is going on in that room…?” the people in the waiting room must wonder), but who has solved many an “unsolvable” physical problem, starting with a torn hamstring a few years back.

The Universe’s 2x4s

Once again I’m reminded that things frequently don’t change or move much until the Universe whacks me upside the head with a 2×4.

Have I been wanting regular massages with Cindy? Hell yes!

Have I been getting regular massages with Cindy? Hell no. Because they cost $80 a pop, and money’s tight, and I’m highly, highly motivated to pay down my mountain of debt as soon as possible, rather than growing it any higher.

But sometimes the Universe decides that it’s time for you to shell out $80 for a much-needed massage, goddammit, and so you do.

Or at least I did. And though I’m not totally up to par, I am dramatically better. Maybe even enough to attempt to varnish my naked toenails. (Must look the diva part, after all!)

But on to other things. Though it’s always hard to come back to real life after a week at music camp, there are lots of things going well.

What’s going well

: Another Thriving Artists Project interview

On Tuesday: what a wonderful interview with Michael Nobbs of Sustainably Creative! I want to put him in my pocket and take him home. I learned a lot. Great addition to my Thriving Artists Project. (Sign up here to get on the advance notification list.)

: I made a ketubah!

Which I’m posting here again, even though it already appeared in yesterday’s post. Finished it in time, got it scanned (next up: adding it to my line on Ketubahworks), and most important, the clients were happy. Always a great sense of accomplishment.

: Music

I played my ukulele every day, and even found myself in The Zone once or twice, experimenting and discovering, and just having fun. This is good!

Plus, after a dry spell of several months I started writing a new song. We’ll see if it evolves — I seem to be accumulating several unfinished ones.

The important thing is that I’m back in the mode of thinking about music, rather than having it be sitting untended on the back burner.

: Inspiration

Robert, whom I’ve never met, sent me a link to a TEDx talk by Verity Price, which inspired the hell out of me. (Thank you Robert!)

South African artist Verity did what I did — pre-selling her CD before it was made — but with the benefit of wider name recognition than little ‘ol yours truly, she sold 2,000 units (at $20 a pop), not just $2,000. (You do the math.)

What a score it would be to interview her for my Thriving Artists Project! I sent an email, but no response yet. Ah, well. I’m still inspired.

: Self-care: time for friends

After my bout of 80-hour weeks before and between music camps, I’m enjoying a somewhat more relaxed pace, taking time for friends, allowing Happiness to take the wheel for awhile, while Greatness takes a breather.

What’s hard

Aside from the aforementioned back spasm, it’s the usual hard stuff around here: too much to do, and not enough time to do it. Plus, oh yeah, money. (Which is, in fact, dramatically better than last year at this time, but until I get this debt paid off I’m still living like frugal Freida.)

Things are moving way more slowly than I’d like, but then, at least they’re moving. I’m doing my best to take a page from Michael Nobbs’ book, and be kind to myself.

And rather than delve further into this pit of kvetching, I’m going to excuse myself to diva-up for my gig.

‘Til next time, over and out.

July 30, 2010

Happiness vs. Greatness Redux

I had to hit the ground running when I got back from music camp, what with a custom ketubah waiting to be completed (photo below) in and among catching up with general business stuff.

Grapevine Ketubah — Just completed: custom ketubah — hand-painted & hand-calligraphed — with grapevines and 24kt gilded lyre. Click for a zoom view.

Oh, and my sales tax return (still) to be done. (Yes, I know I’m a horrible procrastinator.) Running a business comes with its own built-in deadlines.

After a string of 80-hour weeks before and between music camps, however, this week has felt practically like a vacation.

Okay, that’s an extreme exaggeration, but it has been dramatically more relaxed than the rest of my summer at home. Instead of working late every night, I actually took time to have people over, meet a friend for tea, and even to have a girls’ night out in the City last night (conveniently combined with delivering the ketubah to the waiting clients, whose wedding is Monday).

All of which got me thinking about one of my favorite topics-of-obsession:

Happiness vs. Greatness

In an interview in the Unconventional Guide to Art + Money, Australian artist Hazel Dooney credits her success to her single-minded drive: “…this is my sole focus in life. This is all I dedicate my time to. I am totally undistracted by anything else, even a love life.”

In a similar way, 20+ years ago, all I really cared about was succeeding as a dancer. I can’t say that I was totally undistracted, since I definitely longed for a love life. But success — getting really, really good at this thing that I was so passionate about, and being publicly recognized for that mastery — and happiness seemed inextricably interlinked.

In fact, I remember having a certain amount of contempt for people who didn’t have such ambitions.

My parents, for example. How could they possibly be truly happy, living such… normal lives? Not making (as I saw it) some large, indelible mark on the planet?

The (younger-than-I-am-now) adults who took classes at my dance school were objects of somewhat sneering fascination and scorn to my snotty teenage self. Why were they even bothering? They’d never amount to anything as dancers, so what was the point?

If anything, they were to be pitied.

Now I’m amused and embarrassed by that teenager. I also have tremendous compassion and pity for her.

What is happiness, anyway?

Happiness, for the teenage me, was utterly dependent on a certain level of a certain type of success and recognition. I lived in a state of constant emptiness, desperately seeking to be filled by validation. No matter how hard I worked and how good I got, it was never good enough. Nor would it probably ever be.

As a result, I was quite willing to give up all sorts of normal teenage pleasures in order to pursue my dream.

There’s something quite admirable about this. Dedication, commitment, discipline can lead to amazing things.

On the other hand, I missed out on a lot. For example, although I’d been backpacking since age 6 and was an avid outdoorsperson, I quite literally ceased going camping and backpacking the year I started dancing. Heaven forbid I miss a weekend — or even a day — of dance classes!

It was a trade-off I was willing to make at the time, because I wanted so badly.

Now? The teenage me would sneer, roll her eyes and and shake her head at the present-time me. No doubt she would see me as a drop-out and dabbler.

In her eyes, I’ve become one of those adult dance students: rather pathetic.

A hard-driver goes soft (at least a little)

I remember when I noticed this change in attitude starting to happen. The year of my divorce I re-discovered dance, but in a gentler-to-my-body-and-soul form, and dove into the world of social dancing. For awhile I took private lessons from a ballroom dance teacher to learn how to follow.

Yes, I still wanted to get good at this thing I loved — that part hadn’t changed. But the desperation, and the willingness to give up everything? That part had.

I remember one lesson at a ballroom where several other private lessons and rehearsals were going on around us. One of the couples on the floor was drenched in sweat, repeating wild leaps and spins over and over again, stopping only to get notes from their coach.

It turns out they were national (or world?) youth champions, practicing for an upcoming competition.

What struck me most was that, although they were amazingly good at what they were doing, there was no joy on their faces. No bliss. And it occurred to me right then and there that I didn’t want to work that hard at anything ever again.

Oh, I’m still willing to, and do, work very, very hard. But I’d experienced dancing like that myself, in pursuit of mastery but without any real joy in what I was doing, and I never wanted to be there again.

It was that moment when I realized I’d lost some of the drive I had as a youth. Don’t get me wrong — if you’ve read anything on this blog you know that I still have plenty of drive. But what I don’t have is the willingness to give up all present-time-happiness in pursuit of some hoped-for future gratification.

All change is a loss

It’s sort of sad, in a way. I mourn that loss. Without such willingness I’ll never achieve the Greatness I’ve always longed for.

But on the other hand, I think I’m a happier person, day to day. I live more in the present than I used to. I’m much better at enjoying the moment, rather than putting so much of my energy into a hoped-for future. There’s a lovely sweetness to it.

It does mean, however, that sometimes things like writing blog posts (ahem) get left undone in favor of moment-enjoying. And if I’m totally honest I have to confess I still have conflicted feelings about this. I clearly haven’t quite achieved the zen-like state of being able to let go and feel totally okay about it.

Ah, well. There’s always something to work on.

Comments? I’d love to hear your thoughts on happiness and greatness. Is there a link there for you? Or are they totally unrelated in your world?

July 27, 2010

Weekly Review #17: Home again, and not from porn camp

So how’m I doing in my quest to re-invent my life, follow my evolving Blisses and create the life I really, really want?

Last time, people: I was not at porn camp. I was at music camp. However, in attempting to describe music camp to “civilians” (ie, people who have never been to music camp), I find myself relying on the phrase “summer camp for adults.” Or “adult summer camp.”

Which invariably leads to questions about whether this is a nudist camp, or an “adult-themed” camp.

Ahem. That would be no, people.

For all you prurient voyeurs, hoping for a glimpse behind the scenes at porn camp, I’m terribly sorry, but although there were several songs with serious double entendres played over the course of the week, California Coast Music Camp is most definitely PG rated and family-friendly.

Missing camp: the lost year

Last year, in a misguided attempt to bring in more wedding business by showing my work at a wedding fair, I missed both Jazz Camp West and CCMC.

What a mistake.

I discovered that missing music camp is not just a matter of missing a special week (or weeks) during the summer. In fact, music camp re-acquaints me with my passion, my Bliss. It helps get me back on track, and the energy boost I get during that brief interlude actually charges up my engines and propels me forward for many months.

The year I missed camp I felt the lack much more strongly than I’d expected.

So this year, despite my enormous mountain of debt, and despite the practically inhuman challenge of trying to get away during the busiest time of year for my business, I moved heaven and earth to get to camp. Both camps, in fact.

Scholarships helped make my attendance possible (huge thank yous to everyone who donates to the scholarship funds! You are my heroes!) And in fact, I was offered an official staff position at CCMC, which reduced my tuition down an additional $200 from my $450 scholarship; instead of full tuition of $900, I only had to pay $250.

Out of the frying pan…

That extra $200 came at a price, however. As the Signs and Snacks person, my job was to make, post and take down all signs at the appropriate times, and to prepare, put out and clean up the late night snacks every evening.

Even with a good chunk of the signs re-usable from the previous week’s camp, the signs job is a pretty big one, especially during the first half of the week. And the snack job took a hefty amount of time every day as well, plus kept me up later than I would preferred on clean-up duty.

With both jobs, and three daily classes, my schedule was pretty packed, and sleep a bit scarce.

In other words, my vacation wasn’t as much of a vacation as I would have liked.

Don’t get me wrong: camp was wonderful, my classes were fantastic, and I loved being part of the team that helped camp run smoothly. And as a calligrapher, making the signs was great fun (as was the validation I got from all the ooh’s and ah’s they received).

But the second or third day I realized that it probably makes sense for me to construct my vacation time to be as much of a break from my daily existence as possible. And since I’m almost always dealing with an overly packed schedule, creating a vacation situation with a schedule that is not overly packed is much to be desired.

So I learned something. If I were to do it all over again, perhaps I’d just take the scholarship and not do the job.

On the other hand, $200 represents a lot of money to me right now, and I can use every penny I get. So until I get my finances in order (god-willing, by Valentine’s Day 2013!), I simply may not get the completely relaxing vacation I could really use.

Ah, well.

Falling in love!

The biggest surprise this past week was that I fell madly, passionately in love!

Every year I’ve gone to music camp kinda hoping maybe I’d meet some great guy, the perfect partner in music and life.

It never happens. This year was no exception.

But I did fall in love… with the ukulele!

Here’s the funny thing: I’ve been to music camp with ukulele classes for years and I’ve never felt in the least compelled to learn the instrument. But for some reason, this year the stars were aligned. Cupid’s arrow must have struck me when I was looking at a uke, because suddenly the ukulele became the object of my obsession.

I was so smitten, I earmarked the cash from my CD sales to my “Uke Fund,” and because I couldn’t wait to have one of my own, I stopped at a music store on my drive home and bought a Kala Travel Uke.

Wanna see it? (‘Course you do! How could you not?) Watch the video below for a grainy clip of me playing a Dave Gordon song.

And now we are home

Here’s the deal. In many ways, music camp is living the life I really, really want. I’m doing (at least one of) my creative things every day, most of the day. (Even when I’m working a job like Signs and Snacks.)

So last week I was doing pretty great in my quest to live the life I really, really want.

Now that I’m home? Well, it’s not nearly as easy. I’m pretty much back on the hamster wheel, with client deadlines keeping me hopping.

But I’m still managing to play my uke!

But that’s really for the next Weekly Review. For now, bedtime.

‘Night all.

July 22, 2010

CCMC 2008 Student Concert: Teach Me Tonight

In honor of tonight’s CCMC student concert, I thought I’d share my performance from my last CCMC student concert, back in 2008.

On guitar: Chris Gramp and Mike Wollenberg

On bass: Karen Horner

As is the case with all camps, the humor here is mostly in-jokes.

A couple of keys:

1) All week long I was in guitar classes taught by Chris and Mike: Chris taught a class called “Your First Lead,” and Mike taught beginning jazz guitar. As you’ll probably deduce from this recording, there was much discussion in Chris’s class about not using too many notes, and not forgetting to breathe. And yes, we all had to sing our guitar solos.

2) The big news around camp for a couple of days was when Chris’s wife, Nina, lost her wedding ring in the river. Much joking was made around them now being single again. Then, lo and behold, someone actually found the wedding ring in the river, and they were restored to their marital state.

(And apropos my July 15 post on comparing yourself to where you used to be, rather than to your heroes or your goals: listening to this track, though a bit painful, was great validation of how far I’ve come vocally in the past two years. Onward!)

Oh, and btw, although you can’t see this on this audio, Chris and Mike were beet red during much of this song.

Enjoy!

Teach Me Tonight-CCMC 2008

July 19, 2010

Monday Hearts for Madalene

Happy Monday, dear readers! I’ll actually be at California Coast Music Camp at the time this post is published, but with the magic of scheduled posts, and seeing as it’s Monday, I thought I’d share some Monday marvelousness.

Monday Hearts for Madalene

At Jazz Camp West a few weeks ago I met an amazing woman, Page Hodel, who is modeling an inspiring combination of creativity and generosity with her project, Monday Hearts for Madalene.

Page told her story before the dance concert on the last night of camp, with a slide show of stunning photographs of hearts going on behind her. It was moving and touching, and a great example of what living a creative life — even in the seemingly smallest of ways — can do for others.

When Page met her true love, Madalene, she began a routine every Sunday night of making a little heart on her doorstep out of leaves or flowers or buttons, “anything pretty I could find.” She wanted Madalene to find a sweet little “I love you” waiting for her when she went out the door to go to work on Monday morning. “To start her week with a visual reminder of our beautiful love.”

Seven months after they fell in love, Madalene was diagnosed with advanced stage ovarian cancer. After a courageous fight, Madalene died a short four months later, at only 46.

A few days before Madalene died, Page made a promise to her that she would continue to make her hearts for her for the rest of her life. “It is a way for me to express the river of love I have inside of me and to maintain the continuity of my connection to her, to keep her in my physical world.”

Page has kept that promise. And although the making of the hearts was never intended to be more than her private messages to Madalene, they have grown to be much more indeed.

At the suggestion of Madalene’s brother, Ivan, Page started taking photos of the hearts, and sending them to loved ones over the internet. She invited the recipients to send them on to their loved ones, with the intention to put love out into the world.

Page’s hearts for Madalene now not only span the globe (and you can sign up to receive one of your own each Monday by scrolling to the bottom of the Monday Hearts for Madalene home page and clicking on the “Email Me” button), but a subset of them has recently been published as a book, as well as as a deluxe notecard set.

Inspiration to put your creativity out there

Page’s story was a wonderful reminder to me that the most important thing each of us can do is to keep an open heart and keep putting our creativity out there. The road can feel long and discouraging, but if you stay true to your authentic self and speak/create/give from a place of honesty and love, it can really make a difference.

And isn’t that what each of us wants? I know I do.

The Universe’s 2x4s

What’s going well

: Another Thriving Artists Project interview

: I made a ketubah!

: Music

: Inspiration

: Self-care: time for friends

What’s hard

Happiness vs. Greatness

What is happiness, anyway?

A hard-driver goes soft (at least a little)

All change is a loss

Missing camp: the lost year

Out of the frying pan…

Falling in love!

And now we are home

Monday Hearts for Madalene

Inspiration to put your creativity out there

Would You Like Some Cookies?