October: be the clown you wish to see in the world

+Roundup

As October comes to an end, and I think of all the thoughts, feelings and inputs that impacted me this month, I am left with a resounding sense of solidity in my purpose and who I want to be. I wrote in my notes the other day:

I always wanted to be a nymph but instead I’m a little clown.

Despite this resembling a lamentation, a mournful nod to who I could have been, it was a revelation that I really welcomed. With the state of social media right now and the importance of how you are outwardly perceived, it seems to be the collective desire of young people to be the nymph, to be mysterious and edgy, to be the cool girl who creates in solitude and remains aloof in the face of success. No one wants to be seen as trying too hard, or as being loud and excitable. To be shamelessly open and enthusiastic about life, about your talents and the things you put into the world seems to be passé.

I always wanted to be mysterious, to be whimsical and detached, and it got in the way of me actually knowing myself as who I am, not who I try to be. At 25, I feel like my structure is set in stone, and I just have to take a step outside and look at it—and see that it is grounded and full. I am not mysterious, I am not ephemeral or flighty. I’m finding that I resonate most with the archetype of the clown—I find my purpose in performance, in output, in extroversion and in sharing what brings me joy in the hopes it brings joy to others. I want to see concrete, tangible replicas of my essence in the world. As I feel more sure of my sense of self, I am more comfortable with exposing myself in this way. I don’t like to be vulnerable, but I do love to use myself as a tool. I want to share everything I have, and it’s equally because I want to contribute, but I also need to be seen, noticed, appreciated. It can be tedious, for sure, but I want to be the artist, not the muse—the little clown, not the nymph.

Unfortunately, the weather is turning cold and the sunset creeps silently around the clock, hoping we don’t notice as the sun packs it in a few hours earlier. Being the little clown means that I am addicted to validation and constantly reminding people that I am here and that I’m still doing stuff, while it becomes physically harder to actually do. I have to figure out how to slow down the constant churn I feel obliged to, that equates to guilt when I don’t get anything out there. So maybe I can spend the next few months learning some lessons from the nymph, I can try to “move in silence” (impossible for a level 10 yapper like myself) and spend some more time working on things before I pump them out into the world. Writing a novel is really teaching me to do this, as I know it is a long time before it will be ready to share. Cheap tricks are for the summer time, when inspiration is abundant and the world is unfurling itself and everyone is open to breathing in whatever you have to offer.

I don’t know where this is going, so I will end with saying that it’s okay to be brash and excitable and chatty. We don’t (and can’t) all be the nymph. Sometimes you just aren’t that cool, but you’re warm and bubbly and having fun anyway, which is just as valuable.

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Here’s what I liked in October!