Mindful
Have you ever had one of those moments in your life where you ask yourself, “Is this really happening?”
Yesterday one of those moments happened to me. I received a phone call congratulating me on winning the major (overall) art prize at the ADEC Artability ‘Destinations’ Exhibition in Melbourne’s Federation Square. Out of over 140 pieces, mine was chosen as “the piece”, firstly for its colour (thank you copper carbonate and majolica, you’re my new best friend) and for its subject of Mother Earth. I will be presented with a certificate and an award on stage in front of 200 guests. Unbelievable!
“Of course it’s not unbelievable,” said my husband after I hung up the phone, who is also the number one ticket holder of my fan club. He’s always been very matter of fact about it. When something is terrible, he is not shy in coming forward in saying, “Maree, that’s absolutely crap. I’d start again if I were you,” and I appreciate him for it.
When I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder just over two years ago, I left my successful teaching career. At 35 years old and somewhat established, you really don’t think you are going to feel 18 years old again, starting out afresh in your brand new chosen field – filled with those insecurities and unsure whether this is going to work out. Firstly, we need to come to terms with the fact that you have divorced your original and indeed lifelong career. There is an element of defeat whether we want to view it that way or not.
I can’t teach in any school, with its structures, timetables, heavy workload, expectations and its high level of commitment. Who is going to say, “Oh you are depressed! That’s totally understandable, sure, take three weeks off with full pay and we’ll take care of the rest,” and “What, sorry? It happens about two to three times a year and sometimes the depression can last a couple of months, where you can’t get out of bed? Sure that’s fine too! It doesn’t matter if students constantly have substitute teachers covering your load!” said no school ever.
I’m an emerging ceramicist with big, beautiful dreams of one day setting up my own studio and creating sculptural and functional pieces that are accessible and appreciated by the general public, but I am far from accomplished and I still have so much to learn. As I said before, I also paint, and as a matter of fact one of my paintings, “In Flander’s Field”, which I also submitted as part of the ADEC exhibition, was also chosen as one of the short-listed images for the greeting cards that ADEC create as part of their range to sell to raise money for art supplies. My image and my name, amongst others, will probably be circulated around the state, maybe around the country, and perhaps even internationally. At the risk of repeating myself and in want of a better word, it’s unbelievable. My ceramic and painting work being recognised is such an honour!
So perhaps I should qualify that, complete strangers like my work, and can I tell you it’s thrilling and scary all at once. I have made a deal with myself, to not fall into the same old elusive trap of constantly having the need to excel and surpass my previous achievements. I’ve decided that this time, in this career, humility will be my partner, together with a profound sense of gratitude and my sincerest, humblest and heartfelt thanks. It’s better for my mental health and overall wellbeing.
Being in competition with one’s self can be positive and motivating, but needs to be kept tightly in check and in balance. Certainly, by all means learn and grow through self improvement and evolvement, but don’t kill yourself over it is what I am getting at. Belief in oneself takes a lot of work and it has taken me decades to foster a real sense of confidence rather than just bravado, and with the right people and circumstances, miracles can indeed happen – like yesterday and today and even perhaps tomorrow.