I have never been known to be one for coordination.
My movements in any dancing-like sequence are free spirited or haphazard at best. Over the years, I have learned how to listen more to where the beat falls, becoming more comfortable with the way my body adapts movements to my form, even though it may not look like those around me. In recent years, the practice of yoga has taught me the intentional art of tapping into my breath in order to listen to the leading of my body. I have learned to be more at peace with my lack of coordination and instead of being disheartened by it, choose to use it as fuel towards continuing the work of listening and trusting my body and peace with my movements, even if they only make sense to me.
However, when it comes to how I move in this world, how I operate on stage, how I once shifted from post grad to paid poet, from nanying to full time professional artist, I have moved well. I learned the art of pivoting smoothly, intentionally, gracefully and sometimes often abruptly. I have become (mostly) really savvy at knowing when the next jump, shift or focus needs to come about and though oftentimes approached it at first with tension and fear of not knowing, I very quickly found ease and warmth in the newly acclimated waters.
I pivoted well, I pivoted really well for years and years and years. I called those pivots, my web. It was these strings of income, opportunities and possibilities that I had perfected at how to shift between when one or more got slow, there was always something else to hold me, to keep me afloat within this artist's life I had not so much chosen for myself but was chosen for.
This year, that knowledge of pivoting has shifted a lot and I am relearning the art of pivoting all over again. And I know it must sound like a broken record at this point but the more I talk about it, the more others are sharing with me that they too are in a season of pivoting that they did not see for themselves. And instead of upholding this weird facade that I’m all good or have it together, out of fear and not knowing what’s coming next, I want to continue pressing into honest, messy conversations. All of “my webs” have taken different forms, lost their strings, or shifted entirely, my devices are no longer my devices, my strong ability to pivot into something familiar is getting…tricky. What worked before cannot work any longer and at first what was a strong denial and sprinkle of stubbornness to “figure it out”, is now just sheer acceptance and welcoming of the art of pivoting.
In the last few months I have applied to many full time, part time, hybrid, remote, social media, creative directing, management, you name it jobs. Getting in a sprinkle of rejections but mostly just lack of responses but still determined to put out feelers in the 9-5 world. I told my friend recently that I was “casting my nets” and seeing what sticks and what doesn’t, praying along the way of typing out cover letters and hoping that I’ll be covered in the process of it all.
I’ve had to grapple a lot with that weird tension that happens when you call yourself an artist and creative and yet find yourself having to apply for a fulltime job, sitting heavily with the feeling of failure, instead of just the sheer need to survive and pay bills. I remember telling my therapist that I was skipping past jobs that were “front facing” (I.E retail or with brands I’ve worked with in other capacities). She asked me why I was avoidant of those “front facing” jobs and I told her because I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want someone to walk into a free people and be like, “ARRRIELLEEE?!! WHAT RUDOINGGG HERE?!” And leave me with being ridden with the feeling that I somehow failed not only myself but also them.
She then asked me, what's the worst that could happen if someone perceived me in this way?
and it ultimately came down to my fear of being seen as not being put together or having it together. The question exposed my not so sneaky need to control how people view me as good or enough or talented. That constant weight and trauma I still daily work to untether my identity from having always been told that I was a leader, THEE example, the good first impression. She asked me one final question to reflect on, “what is it, where is it and who is it you want to be and how does being perceived hinder you from obtaining that?”
Ooof.
Needless to say, I applied for the free people job, didn’t hear back but I needed at least to apply and knock my pride and fear of being perceived as a “failure” to the side. And so we’re pivoting, it's been more a mental one than anything physical so far but I think that's half the battle. Getting yourself not to necessarily take the first step but finding peace in the process of realizing you must take a first step, in a different direction... even if just for a little while.
At a show I went to last night, in the coziest, most beautifully curated studio filled with artists and feelers, dim candle lights and wine in plastic cups, I shared about wrestling with being an artist and having to apply for full time jobs. I’ve been really privileged and lucky to not have to over the last almost nine years, juggling part time jobs, lots of side hustles and just you know figuring it out. After the show, the host and dear friend hugged me tightly and said, “the magic is full time.” He pulled me away to look deeply into my eyes with his piercing yet kind ones and said again, “the job is part time, the magic, your magic is full time.” I sighed a little, bowed my head and said “thank you, I receive that.”
I write this a little lighter, holding that with me.
I know that no matter the art of pivoting, always steward this craft, always be the artist, always be full time magic. And so with an exhale and a first step, may it be so.
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