Directions

My clay work took a startling turn today. New forms, from out of nowhere. I don’t quite know what to think of it, but resisted the inclination to ignore the change and decided to follow it. Which is ironic since I’ve been fiddling with this post for a couple of days.

A question constantly on my mind is: How does one find their direction? I originally said in life, but re-wrote to to be open-ended...how does one find THEIR personal direction in anything?

Some people seem to find it sooner than others, other people find it and lose it, then regain it (or not) at a later time. A lot of folks seem to be all fits and starts, but never getting past a certain point. I think I’m one of the latter, and hopefully like so much else just a late bloomer. Some people sadly never find it at all.

I had a teacher once always referred to his direction as his “True North”. He had it in sight, strong and clear, for a long time, then some life tragedies happened and he lost it for a while. He is very open about his search to rediscover his True North, and how difficult that was. His story is not just one of art found, lost, then found again, but of personhood, and how he defined himself.

I think True North is the pointer, not the destination or goal. I believe this pointer is what a lot of us are looking for in all we do. I know when I’m making art at my best, I’m not expressing so much as searching, following leads, and learning, or fumbling in the process, and the resulting piece is the record of the exploration taking place during that time. It’s like a map drawn of where I’ve been, maybe with hints of where I might go, but they’re pretty much hidden until time passes and I can see them. True North seems to be the clarity of purpose, and the reference that brings confidence even though you can’t see the end.

I’ve always thought a lot about direction, but it dominates my pondering a lot these days. Even if its in the background, the wheels are always churning. It doesn’t take much to bring it to front and center: a word or phrase in a book or a song, a snippet of conversation, an observation made by someone else in a blog entry, these things refocus my attention. Some days it makes me crazy not knowing what the direction is, and I feel like I’m flailing about, floundering. I kind of hate to waste time going down the wrong paths, but I don’t seem to be on any kind of linear life progression and am getting used to it. Besides, who knows what you’ll find on those side roads and where they can lead you? Sometimes they’re dead ends, but other times you end up with a sign pointing you somewhere that brings you a little closer to your own True North. The hard part is remembering this on the crummy days when all you can feel is lost. Sometimes for sure I am lost, but other times I’m meandering and casting about. My frustration mostly comes when I think I’m taking way too long to get somewhere. I forget that people move at different speeds.

If you’ve been reading this blog much you know I’m working on this video project with a fellow named Joe. Part of why I wanted to do this is for my own education...Joe knows something (well, a lot of things) that I don’t. I figure working with him will teach me something. I know there is no shortcut or secret, but Joe has known his direction for over 30 years, with a clear sense of purpose and direction. I want to know how he found it, and more importantly how he held to it over the course of more than half his lifetime. You should know Joe lives a pretty hard life by conventional standards, but he is one of the most clear, balanced, kind, generous and peaceful people I’ve ever met. He will tell you in an instant his life is easy and good. And convince you yours could be too; he says it’s all a matter of choices.

So, I guess here at the end of this piece I’ve found one answer to the original question: finding one’s direction is a matter of making choices. Of course there has to be action, but that’s another pondering.

Hope everyone has a great weekend, and that you’re warm and healthy wherever you are. The snow is flying and the wind blowing here on my mountain, but the woodstove is hot and the coffee rich. Life is decent.