life

The Vulnerability of Writing, Speaking, & Asking for Help

Soooooooooooooooooooooo…

I did a thing, ya’ll.

These days, I’m working on a collaborative project that’s got me thinking deeply about why I started this site, what my writing style is like, and what topics I gravitate towards. For over one year, I have written on topics such as social justice and spirituality. For over one year, I have been making sense of both my sociocultural identity and my spiritual identity through sharing those small truths and gems I find along the way. Writing is so interesting because it’s an activity that I do, mostly, in solitude & quiet. Yet, it’s easy to underestimate how your voice can carry to spaces that you never thought possible. Speaking, on the other hand, very different from this.

I’ve studied Theater and Communication Arts/Speaking; these are activities where you not only visualize your audience beforehand… but you actually see them in the room. You can see glimpses of the impact you’re having on the faces of people – Sometimes, for better. Sometimes, for worse. There is access to both your mind and your voice, embodied. For these reasons, I am unspeakably excited to share and co-facilitate a workshop on Re-Encountering Beliefs and Forging New Faith Identities at the Wild Goose Festival in Hot Springs, NC. The Wild Goose festival is a 4-day Spirit, Justice, Music and Arts Festival that is open, affirming, and “rooted in a progressive Christian tradition”.

Writing and speaking are activities that require a great deal of vulnerability, especially in this case. These are vulnerabilities that I’m quite often ready for, equipped for, and even formally trained to do. However…

I am still trying to master the vulnerabilities of asking for help.

Co-facilitating at Wild Goose allows me “to live more fully into my mission and vision”. However, to cover the costs of getting there, I’ve had to ask for help. I’m still asking for help.

I chose to do that through GoFundMe and it’s been an exciting and terrifying process… especially because of the “What will people think” minions prancing about in my mind. Their song gets a little weaker each time I ask, so I’m learning something very important on this journey. I’ve been able to ask for help from family, friends, and (what I like to call) e-cousins. [Note: E-cousins are the people I’ve met online who are not a part of my biological family, but I would be best cousins with them if they were]. Now, I’m taking one more step. I’m putting my request here. In my public writing space.

[Also, can someone get Brene Brown on the phone because all this #vulnerabilitylife liiike… Lawd!… I need a snack…]

First, I want to thank everyone that has helped me to cover these costs through my GoFundMe initiative. I also want to express my thanks to those who have left kind notes along the way! They have been such pleasant surprises and reminders that the work can continue on, with your support.

I’m almost at the halfway mark of the journey, and I’m so excited to be heading to ‘the Goose’ in one month! If you’re so inclined and able to give, I would greatly appreciate it! You can give here on GoFundMe. If you’re wondering more about the details, and how funds are being allocated, click the link to read more! Or if you’ve done anything like this before / like the writing you see here and want to leave a note of encouragement, please feel free to do so in the comments.

With Love to You All,

Jade T. Perry

Image Credit: CreateHerStock.com

Non-Traditional New Year’s Manifesto

I appreciate that for many, New Year’s Eve / Day signals a reset in some ways: new goals, fresh starts, upcoming excitement. However, it is my least favorite holiday. The hands of New Year’s Eve clock often feel heavy with promises we don’t keep, breakthroughs that may or may not come, and changes we could have made the year before. In past years, I got around this heaviness by surrounding myself with positive distractions: people at church who might be able to help me believe that THIS year was MY year, friends whose optimism might rub off on me, confetti, glitter… the works.

But this New Year’s Eve, my original plans included baking a cake and enjoying close relationships. On a deeper level, I knew that in order to progress successfully into 2016, I had to get quiet and look back… which is counter-intuitive to SO many notions we have about what a NEW year represents. On the second day of the new year, I had the chance to do just that.

Those who know me well, know that I’ve kept a journal from ages  9 to 22. In the years that followed, my journaling practice has been on and off, so I bought a new book and purposed to get back on track. However, since I was back in my hometown, I pulled my high school and college years down from the shelves and re-read. (No journals from grad school or after because… #life).

I smiled (laughed occasionally). I cringed (a lot). I analyzed. I empathized. But most importantly, I meditated on loving the “me” in those pages.  That was radical and life-changing for me.

I allowed the “Me” of today to grieve the heartbreaks of the “Me” of then. I got honest with the “Me” of then… there were so many things I was not willing to admit to myself. I cheered myself on when I proactively made good choices and even when I stumbled upon good choices after-the-fact.

The “Me” of today was able to discern that, in many ways, I spent a great deal of my past in fear.

Fear of messing up.
Fear of doing things ‘wrong’.
Fear of not being heard.
Fear of being unloved.
Fear of being unworthy.

So, my past coping responses were geared toward achievement. Go. Do. Prove. Learn the terms. Play by the rules.

I discerned what I needed to do in 2016 by looking back, and purposefully accepting myself & my evolution. I needed / need to embrace my own terms.

While I don’t have the details of how this will play out, I have identified a few key areas that I’d like to work on. These include:

  1. Refining, embracing, and articulating my own voice through my art & professional endeavors. I am a blend of analysis, story sharing, advocacy… and sheer, friggin, shenanigans. It’s okay to reflect all of that. Those are my terms.
  2. Communicating my terms in regards to wealth & profit from my creativity. Rihanna put it this way, “Pay me what you owe me. Don’t act like you forgot”. My terms.
  3. Making room to add or subtract relationships, projects, and professional goals. Shame and fear can keep you playing solely by other people’s terms. I’ve learned that is just not an efficient or peaceful way to live.
  4. Committing to explore what my terms are for engaging God and people, for creating art… for living.

I’ve lived rubric-style for long enough. It’s time to begin using the resources I have to create my authentic curricula.

Image Credit: Createherstock.com