If my reaction to the previous topic of discipline was to groan slightly, I'd have to admit that my reaction to the word "patience" was a sigh. Pema Chodron understands this perfectly when she writes "by patience, we do not mean enduring – to grin and bear it." ( Comfortable with Uncertainty, p.137) What patience is about is relaxing, surrender, and detachment with love.
Patrul Rinpoche in The Words of My Perfect Teacher divides the principle of patience into three sections: patience when wronged, patience to endure hardships, and patience to face the profound truth without fear.
What sort of things in the art world can cause us to feel wronged and angry? Anything from the art supply store being out of what we need, to finding out something got damaged in shipping, to a variety of mishaps and misunderstandings with people, places, and things. We perceive wrongs as happening to us, but it is often our own attitude that is at fault. It only takes six degrees change in how we see things to change the whole picture.
For example, do you ever feel like creating or art business work has to get done now and the only way to do it is to push your way through? These feelings may relate to speed and aggression. Which means hoping for everything to be good and afraid that it's going to be bad. It is being driven to always pull what we want toward us and hold on, push away what we don't want and build walls, and to do it fast. So fast that we don't even know we're doing it. It's the human condition of suffering. And my reaction to speed and aggression is often to feel afraid, angry, and very impatient to not feel that way. I have lost my connection with the present moment. It's time, as Sogyal Rinpoche says, to "bring [my] mind home." Pema Chodron's talks and writes often in regards to patience when wronged (whether we wrong ourselves or by others). She has a beautiful article in Shambhala Sun on the antidote to anger being patience; always reminding us to practice kindness. http://www.shambhalasun.com/index.php?option=content&task=view&id=1309
The second of Patrul Rinpoche's explanations on patience is to endure hardships. As Pema says, this doesn't mean to grin and bear it. Yet, no one said that making a life as an artist was going to be easy. It takes discipline, patience, and a bit of humor. I don't know if it is because artists see the world differently and feel everything deeply that we have to build up some resilience. When I create a piece of art that is like my child and then try to sell it to the world. Ugh! Really, that can be hard. Exposure and rejection are not my favorite experiences. But that creative spirit always prevails. A new idea blossoms or some opportunity arises. Hope blooms again. I watch again as my mind swings between fear and hope. Then, through mindfulness, I find my center in the present moment and can walk the middle path.
There are some great art business books out there that can help an artist when they need a pep-talk. A couple that come to mind are Art and Fear and Fearless Creating. These were recommended to me by my art mentor, Andie Thrams, and I recommend them to all artists.
Finally, patience to face the profound truth without fear. I can only tell you what this means to me, because I know I have a lot to learn. It means (for me) that while everything I do as an artist adds up inherently it has no meaning at all. This doesn't mean to me that my art efforts are meaningless. All art form and acts are bestowed with meaning and value. And the meaning and value that are placed on these art forms are all constructed by the human mind. Beyond that they are empty. I think Rothko was trying to convey that emptiness - as do many artists try to express the inexpressible whether in abstract or realism. As artists we meet that place of emptiness-that-contains-everything each time we begin to create. Buddha said, "Form is emptiness and emptiness is form." Artists are courageous spiritual warriors who patiently face fear repeatedly.
The image that I drew for patience is the hands of a Buddhist nun holding a new plant about to go in the garden. Thich Nhat Hahn talks about not pulling at the sprout to make it grow faster. Here, the hands are patiently nurturing life to grow at its own pace. Created with gouache and colored pencil.
Until next week . . . be well and create joyfully.
Susan
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