on being neal cassady

"Neal Cassady was beloved for his ability to inspire others to love life." I scribbled that on a napkin moons ago and hung it on my fridge: a friendly reminder to make others know how talented/wonderful/beautiful they are while casually reaching for my orange juice each morning.  At the time, reading that one sentence about the beat generation's muse illuminated something in me.  It made my heart sing a little.  A lightbulb went off. I made a conscious decision for that to be my personal mantra: inspire others to love life. That is what I'm put on this earth to do. Nothing would make me happier.

How lovely it is to make others feel as elated as they're supposed to feel just being alive!  And not just any others, specifically, close friends. Parental encouragement begins to lessen in meaning around age 20.  We realize our parents aren't superheroes and their judgement calls are as human as ours.  Plus, they're our parents. It's their job to think we're the most thrilling thing that has ever graced this earth. It's science. We all need to be reminded of our light once in a while; just a match to ignite a toasty, crackly stream of warmth. That means more warmth in the world - the heat isn't contained in the flames.

Well, that's worked out well for me.  I've always felt happy being a shoulder to lean on, an open ear, an inspiration, a muse, your own personal cheerleader.  Whatever you need to feel your worth, I've got you covered!  And for real. I'm a deadly combo of opinionated and horrible actress - I look like a deer in the headlights when I lie.  Careers in politics / theater were out for me, long long ago. But a life coach? Promising!  It's only recently that I've realized that to execute my mantra in the most pure, genuine way, I have to be able to do that for myself first.  It seems counter inuitive: in order to be generous, you first have to be selfish. In order to give, you first have to take. But it's quite the opposite. To love and strengthen someone wholeheartedly, you have to have enough to give. Meaning that you're running on full internally - not just havsies, giving out tiny bits and pieces to every single person you know and living your own life on fumes.  Branches grow best when there's a sturdy trunk, roots firmly planted.  And for all of us cheerleaders, we know that sometimes you give so much that you don't even know you're depleted until one day, after a pleasant Sunday brunch, you get in your car and start driving, only to then pull over and start weeping. Like, hysterical ugly crying, complete with a swollen face, hiccups and a subsequent call to your mother. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

The thing is, I'm good at encouraging.  I'm good at pep talks. I am always willing to lend an ear and like to think I give pretty ok advice too.  I will ask you 5 million questions, Barbara Walters style, because I'm genuinely interested. My actual paying job involves promoting others and helping them make their dreams come true. And you know what? I love it. It's so satisfying to watch that happen for someone and to think you had some part in it all.  But the trouble comes when you neglect your dreams.  When you spend so much time being someone else's support that you forget to be your own.

From the day I put that napkin on my fridge, I've always thought "I'm OK being Neal Cassady.  I don't have to be Ginsberg or Kerouac. It's rewarding enough to be someone's inspiration. Selflessness amounts to freedom from ego. " But I only now realize that that's not me being selfless - that's actually me just being scared.  It's much more difficult to decide you want something and start doing it, rather than just supporting that notion.  Being great is a burdensome responsibility. Exposing everything you have to offer is terrifying. What if it's not good enough? What if you lay it all out on the table and it gets rejected?  What are you left with? Most people shy away from their own light - it's much easier to be...you know...average or just to not even go there at all. To say "oh yeah yeah...I've got this brilliant talent. I just haven't unleashed it yet. But I will someday." This is why Beyonce has millions of fans but there is only one Beyonce. (Any opportunity I get to bring Bey into the conversation, I take. Deal with it).

Until recently, I had actually forgotten (FORGOTTEN!) how much I love to write.  How satiating it is to share thoughts and stories with someone you may never meet. More importantly, to describe a situation that resonates, that moves and stirs, that makes someone feel they're in the middle of your avalanche, your war, your circus. Little me would be disappointed with recent me: what about the codependent relationship you had with your typewriter at age 10? (All those introverted years!) Getting carsick on family vacations because, despite your mother's wishes, the nose wouldn't leave the book?  All the musicals and plays you'd write and perform on holidays with your friends? Little me is now shaking her head and taking her anger out in an awkward little haiku. (Friends, this should explain a thing or two about me).

I've just reminded myself so I'm reminding you too: we are all talented. We all have something to offer. We can all be creators, thereby, connecting us closer to God. He's the most creative one of all, right?  It doesn't benefit you or the world to piggyback on someone else's desires. Yes, we should all support one another.  But we should be authentic in our contributions.  If your dream is being a talent manager or a promoter or gallery director - that's amazing! Go with that. But if you're doing something simply because it's easier than fulfilling the wishes of that 10 year old, think it over.  You may be depriving the world of something great.