Here’s a book that I plan on reading. I learned about this book by way of a search for images of the trickster. I’m posting the cover of the book to remind myself to read it someday and also because I like the image of the winged heels.
For the past several years I have given myself permission to tap back into my creativity.
I lost it a little bit as I grew into adulthood. This little blog is evidence of my commitment to tapping in, making and sharing, in this case, words and ideas. I’m working up to a post a day. But I’m also trying to work out the flow. So there will be days that I don’t post. I will not strain myself and hurt my body in the name of creativity. I don’t want to force it. I want to love it.
And so it is with most activities in my life these days. If I’m going to be doing them, I want to love them or at least find the love in them. My days of admiring the tortured artist are over. The martyr is a tired old, washed up European Dark Ages notion. The martyr takes herself way too seriously. She’s self-righteous and judgemental. She keeps to herself and even sets herself apart from others. Her propensity for self-pity and isolation is damaging. Her depression is imminent. I choose the trickster over the martyr.
I learned this idea from Elizabeth Gilbert in her article entitled, “It’s Better to be a Trickster Than a Martyr.” (which also features a really interesting interview on the subject with Caroline Casey). “The trickster doesn’t compete, doesn’t compare, doesn’t beat his head against the wall, doesn’t wrestle demons, doesn’t try to dominate mysteries that were never meant to be dominated in the first place. The trickster just keeps on PLAYING. The trickster is slippery and sly, wry and wise, always looking for the secret door, the hidden stairway, the funhouse mirror, the sideways way of looking at things — and the trickster always endures.”
Count me in.
Wendy Lea Writing 