My favorite color changes. My favorite song, my favorite pass time, my favorite flower– well, I don’t even know that I have one, actually. Someone asked me that the other day and I didn’t know. Don’t most women know what flower they like? I suddenly felt this opportunity to lay claim to some special flower as being “my favorite flower.”
Having favorites is simply a way to place some sort of identity stamp on our being.
We want something to be associated with, something that defines who we are– something to separate us from someone else. I am guilty of doing just that. I am guilty of using something special and unique about myself, that others can notice, to quantify me as important.
Ok, I’m being real honest here. I love knowing the things that make me smile, laugh and the things that I do really well. Why not find those things and do them? In fact, being the best me I can be is the best way to help others be the best version of themselves. I know this is true.
The problem comes when I start comparing myself to others.
The spiral of self-worth spins faster and faster as my wheels try to match the pace and rout of another.
Instead I ask myself, “what do I have in common with him or her?” Favorites change with the wind and what I like and do and who I am is shifting and changing too. Better still I ask, “what does he have in common with her?” “What ways do these people connect with those people and this things connect with that?”
The world is one great big puzzle waiting for participants to put the pieces together. I’m not yet sure how to do that effectively. I am still learning. But, I do know as we look for the common threads and appreciate our similarities instead of defining individuals by their talents, we make bridges that we can all walk across.
Lost in the Creative.
While leading groups in co-creation expression art workshops I experience the most delight in watching the process, more so than seeing the finished work. I enjoy seeing a people of various personalities, ages, genders and social status all exploring colors, lines and materials in their own way– contributing to the whole.
One large “canvas”– be it a board or a large roll of brown contractors paper, stretches out before the group as music and instruction invites them to make their markings. It isn’t about anyone shining more than the other, there are no comparisons, the “artistic” and “creative” ones are not singled out. Each person is sharing equal contribution to the whole and it look gooorrrgeous!
In this time of expression free flow, favorite colors are used, maybe new ones are discovered and lines are marked and then marked over again by another. The layering process reminds me that we don’t own what we do. It doesn’t matter how much I may like my contribution in this life, if I miss the point, it’s just another mark with no real power.
It’s true that it took me a lot of time and heartache to finally realize some of these things, but I’m thankful for the reminders. I don’t want to be a puzzle piece sitting on a table by myself. I want to be connected. I want to celebrate similarities and seek them over all specialties.
What are your favorite things?