I swear I almost burst into song in the middle of our conversation.
Not, not while swinging around 360 degrees in my dirndl skirt…
but as the warty witch/crone from Sondheim's
Into the Woods,
exhorting folks to be “careful the things you say, children will listen"…
As most of you know,
my oldest son, Art Boy is an artist;
(hence the nickname – aren’t I clever?)
His courage to pursue
and sustain
a life in the arts
has been an inspiration to me,
helping me to think,
and frequently act with abandon,
outside the box –
using all the colors in my tool kit –
to use all the psychobabble lingo
that goes along with that metaphor.
In a nutshell,
he found out weeks ago
that the gallery where he has worked
on and off for years
is closing
and he was faced with the prospect of losing his job.
Until a friend stepped in,
also an artist who works at the gallery.
Said friend decided to buy the frame shop component of the gallery
and asked Art Boy to help him get it set up
and operational
in a new location
and take it
in a new direction.
Then another artist
(also a friend to both guys)
decided to buy the gallery
and asked the artist- turned- business- owner- of- the- frame- shop
to stay in the gallery
and continue operations there –
meaning my son wouldn’t have to change jobs or location
although his salary would get a bump up
and he’d still be working with close friends.
Dilemma about job insecurity solved, right?
But no…
Art Boy wrestled with his heart,
and his gut,
and decided that
same-old-same-partly-new,
wasn’t what he wanted –
and (this is a direct quote)
“because he was raised by a woman who’s not afraid to take risks
and step into the future with faith”,
he turned the position down
and instead
will be jobless
(and healthcare-less)
for a period of months
while he uses the grant money he recently got
to buy time to just paint –
and see what other opportunities might come up.
I almost screamed through the phone –
"WHAT?
Who is the idiot that taught you THAT nonsense?
You need security, you need a job;
to hell with what you want in your soul!”
And that’s when it hit me…
all those things I was dying to say to him
have been messages in my head to ME lately!
Truth is,
as more and more people find out about my decision to retire
in a few months –
with little income,
no guarantees about healthcare,
security
or the underpinnings of a ‘normal’ life -
it’s gotten scarier;
it’s gotten more and more ‘real’.
MY decisions are hard enough for ME to handle –
but, when they’re echoed by your children,
with pride, no less,
it takes ‘real’ to a whole ‘nother level!
Funny, I don’t ever remember telling my kids
to “do as I say”
OR
“do as I do”!
In one of my recent books about walking the Camino,
I recently read “We carry our fears in our backpacks”.
At the risk of channeling another cinematic character
We’re gonna need a bigger boat backpack!
