Selling not sullying spirituality

Yesterday, I finally assimilated the mass of information I inhaled at an author marketing conference held in Cleveland last Monday. It was an incredibly dynamic every-minute-packed event that excited me from the moment I serendipitously encountered an announcement for it.

Author Marketing Live authormarketinglive.com kept its promise, even if we were somewhat overwhelmed. From an early-morning get together, through two talks during lunch and an after-conference social-networking time, there was little time to decompress. Which is why I chose to drive home right after. The four hours of silence gave me time to ground myself and begin to mull over what had just transpired. Plenty.

As an introvert, I am not a huge networker, but I am going to learn to be, thanks to Author Marketing Live. Several speakers helped me understand that it is not a nasty, sleazy, pushy business. Merely, as an artist, there is a time to remove the beret and confidently transform your art (mostly in the artist's mind) into a product and get it to customers. Essentially, to let the world know what you've done. My shaman has said this so many ways so many times to me. Now, it is sinking in.

As I read through my notes and compared them to shared slide of the presentations, I typed up what stood out, tallying 15 pages, and hand wrote a four page to-do list. Getting through that, making it doable, setting goals and breaking them into manageable tasks is my next feat.

I've already employed one very practical tip. My husband and I had just been discussing that I needed some sort of microphone to record my blogs. My voice is fine, but the background noise is not. One of the speakers is a voice artist and coach. Wa-la, he recommended exactly what I was looking for in his presentation. In addition to how I stumbled onto the event, this pertinent piece of information confirmed in my heart that Spirit did, indeed, lead me here.

So, in addition to applying this information to my situation, I desire to incorporate it in a manner that fits my style and spirituality. Yes, it is business, but I want to engage with integrity and not change who I am. Of course, I believe all of the speakers had integrity, they just don't happen to dabble in the spirituality arena and I want my business efforts to reflect my whole self.

What some presenters did for me, and I dare say others, was close the gap between art and marketing. I hadn't really understood I had blocks to selling, I just thought it was a degrading business. I'm imagining door-to-door pushy or the recent guy at Kroger's whom I told I did not want to subscribe though he insisted he could go home if he gave two more pitches. I gave in just so he could finish and he persisted to hound me until I finally told him what I thought of his product. That's just ugly.

I considered myself above selling, when I was selling out on my work #salonforthesoul

However, finding the right audiences (customers) for your work is not. Julia Kline  of sleazefreeselling.com illustrated this very clearly when she asked whether you'd treat your art (metaphorically) as a museum piece or garage-sale grade. That hit home. Here, I considered myself above selling, when I was selling out on my work that comes from the heart and also experience and an education. "Why deprive the world?" my shaman asks. Previously that sounded haughty of me to ask. Now it seems like the truth of joining art and marketing.

There is a way to do it and retain integrity. Engagement, they all said, was key. Community building, I call it and that's right up my alley.

Maybe I can be an authorpreneur and spiritual nurturer all at once. The possibilities are astounding.

• How do I embrace the business world?
• Can I balance it with who I am and what I believe?
• What does that look like for me?
• What is my practice of abundance?
• And of gratitude?


alone,
I create

private, with
all of my heart

and yet,
I desire to
share

not sullying
art with
aggressive tactics

it sits,
alone

until a nudge
from Spirit
points me
in an interesting
direction

away from the
deep and quiet
and into
the percolator
of the internet
and marketing

of all things

and now I
realize the
possibilities
of uniting
them

Listen to this post:

Finding the way without forgetting

How ironic that I attended a writing conference, which stressed regular writing time, in Cleveland on Monday and haven't found space to blog all week. And, last post, I wrote about craving routine and its value. I haven't found it this week. Not with work, life or spirituality. 

I've been running and crashing, running and crashing. Typically, I plan for more balance; time off after projects, traveling and late nights. I never was one who could burn the candle at both ends – my body simply won't let me.

It's all been deep, rich work, but at such a fevered pace and not of my creation.

Bookends: from glitzy hotel to packing my studio

Monday was a killer conference packed full of marketing know-how for authors. Exactly what I had hoped it would be. I drove up Sunday afternoon and spent the evening and overnight with a wonderful friend from freshman year at Miami U. I loved getting to know her in her house and with her likable spouse. Her girls are away at college. I even got to visit her 85-year-old mother whom I hadn't seen in 30 years. She had home-baked cookies and tea prepared.

I dashed out of the house at 6:40 a.m. to make the 7 a.m. conference registration. Scored super-cheap, convenient parking thanks to online trolling and arrived. All of the speakers are published authors who sung the praises of treating your work as an entrepreneur not an artist when it comes time to market. Authorpreneur, they called it. One women, over a quick lunch lecture, asked whether you'd put your work on a pedestal inside of velvet ropes or next to a stack of sneaker at a garage sale. That image really drove home the point for me. I was encouraged and hungry for information. I loved that an Amazon best-selling author said his work was awful at first, even sharing nasty reviews. He was so humble and encouraging of what really can happen all at the same time.

I had another offer to stay in Cleveland and drive home in the morning, but my head was swimming, I relished the quiet four-hour drive home and was eager to be in Cincinnati. The next evening, I was scheduled to present my non-profit elevator speech on stage to potential new board members.

The speech went very well even though the spotlights were overwhelming. Maybe it helped that I couldn't see the audience. Good practice for this introvert, at any rate.

I've been gathering, planning and organizing all week for the annual community art day and registration for Artsy Fartsy Saturdays, held at the complex we serve. A lotta work, yet a lotta fun.

Serving poorest of the poor on the heals of listening to marketing gurus are interesting bookends #salonforthesoul

Serving the poorest of the poor on the heals of listening to marketing gurus are interesting bookends to the week. Sprinkle in a mini reunion, being center stage at an edgy theater, the subject of a ministry care committee, making a personal grant request and re-initiating art Sunday in the inner city and I think I may take at least Monday off to rebalance.

• What's my usual balance of work, play, family and spirituality?
• How do I handle it when I become off-kilter?
• How easily do I let my spiritual life fall to the wayside?
• Where or how do I feel God in these moments?
• How do I take time to see where God is in all of this messy life?

knowing it would
be inspiration,
informational
and what I hunger
for,

I took the plunge
although it
complicated
the rest of the
week

that just got
busier and busier

things happening
that I just couldn't
say no to

trying to find
my way through
and not forget
who put me
here

Listen to this post:

Divine dreamlike absorption

Why am I doing this?

When three people suggested I blog, I knew I had to do more than listen. It was time to act. In the back of my mind, it seemed somehow beneficial for the book I am creating. I am a writer and wanted to stay current. I'd had the name selected for something forever, so why not?

Now, I really must explore why, not why not.

I think it's because I have been a listener for so long that those stories, as well as any residual including my experience, were mounting to something and demanding synthesis and an audience. I believe – this is  a BIG step for me to verbalize – I have some wisdom to share. Granted much of that wisdom was sparked by others, but I do offer a unique spin.

I am so grateful for those loyal from the beginning and those who've even stopped in once. I realize Salon for the Soul is not everyone's cup of tea [heck, it wasn't mine 10 years ago], but it feels like a piece of my work. You know, the place where my deep desire meets the world's great need.*

It hasn't been easy stepping from behind the curtain of journalist/observer to own my voice, not merely interpreting someone else's.

It isn't about numbers or reputation, it's about depth and connection -- well, at least, I hope it is.

I have been very surprised by one of my biggest lessons: that the appeal of Salon for the Soul is not just some little Quaker niche. In fact, I have been disappointed to not feel recognized in larger Quaker circles, yet am much more gratified by those I hear from saying something really hit home or they share my warped perspective!

Every once in awhile, I google this blog or a specific post to see if it even makes the first page. It has, but usually way down the list or only very specifically. I've read books about special media and what's important. I've been told by Quaker bloggers that the way to get noticed is to visit other bloggers in the tight community and leave comments, hopefully directing people back to your blog. Sorry, but that's not why I'm doing this. I had hoped by writing with depth and integrity, that would draw attention. Then, I also recognize this is not a Quaker blog, though I do mention periodically that's what I practice. I think I transcend that and that makes me very happy. Happy that some experience, reflection or thought speaks to someone else. So very pleased to see who it impacts.

I was rather proud of the inspiration for the title I'd had for my last post, "Praying attention." It was telling, pithy and succinctly captured the text. I was stunned when it was listed fourth on google yesterday. I am interpreting that as I have made a small footing of showing up here regularly, being credible and speaking to an audience.

Please don't take this as totally self-serving. It's just a good way for me to reflect on what this is, who I am, where I am and how I connect. I also think it's helping me determine that an audience for the book I am compiling is broader than I originally conceived. A well-respected editor in spirituality circles told me the same thing. She said to look beyond spirituality to self-help and creativity. Together, we noodled that what I was offering there (and here) was DIY spiritual direction.

Anyone agree (or not)?

• What is my vocation (not just my job)?
• How am I doing that or moving toward  it?
• How have I been prayerfully paying attention?
• What are my gifts in connecting with others?
• How am I using or developing those?


it's a dreamlike sequence
my life right now
things are flowing,
falling into place


after so long in limbo
my limbo


like the thin, radiant shaft of light
piercing through the layered, frosty window


I unfurl my palm and catch it
it was meant for me and I feel its power,
let it envelop me as it had
hours earlier in yoga 
when, with my eyes closed, that same
light hovered overhead
pouring itself into every cell


and all I do is absorb

Patience is part of the process

I've always been a patient person. My mom remembers how I would wait while she fed my twin sister first. I was 27 when I married and 38 when I gave birth. I saved every penny I earned at a part-time job for a year-and-a-half as a down payment on our house. However, my patience is wearing thin right now. How much longer do I have to wait?

TEN YEARS ago, I began a journal, prompted by an art coach. As a former journalist, I'd never considered keeping one. Diaries are a waste of time, I thought. I just wanted the facts, not someone's bothersome musings. One Christmas when I received a chained-and locked diary, I opened to the middle, scrawled the words "I murdered Sid," replaced its golden security system, ditched the key and let it sit, hoping someone would find it years later and want to unravel the mystery.

But in this art workshop, we were strongly nudged to begin writing about our art. Seemed simple enough and, after all, I was a rule follower and wanted to remain in the instructor's good graces. I did what I was told. Slowly it opened a path to my soul because my art expressed the things that really mattered to me. Had I been asked to do that initially, I would have balked. Interestingly, I stumbled upon Quakerism about the same time and learned that Quakers have journaled for most of their 350-plus-year history. I was in good company.

FIVE YEARS ago, I realized I was keeping a journal for words and another of images, describing similar experiences, events and feelings. I recognized they formed a book documenting my spiritual journey and began to assemble it.

FOUR YEARS ago, I developed two websites as a part of a project for School of the Spirit, a two-year Quaker program for spiritual nurture. One [ ww.turtleboxstories.com ] shares others' experiences of the Divine and the other [ www.salonforthesoul.com ] is undeveloped with the goal to create a virtual place to share our hearts.

A YEAR-AND-A-HALF ago, I took up what I had started and left during my earlier child-rearing years, seeing there were two, distinct books documenting each half of my 40s.

A YEAR ago, in a bold, perhaps ridiculous, move I sent it off to Oprah with a beloved turtlebox* in a beautiful purple package ... hoping to attract her attention. I sent a matching postcard every month for six months asking if it had been received.

FOUR MONTHS ago, I initiated this blog as another avenue for sharing my story in the hopes it helps others share theirs.

TWO MONTHS ago, my Quaker meeting publicly supported what I consider my ministry by sending me to a Quaker publishing conference.

LAST WEEK, I sent my first e-mail query to an agent, encouraged by two very successful Quaker writers.

TODAY, I sent six more.

WITHIN FIVE MINUTES, an agent replied, asking for more,

I needed that encouragement. Writing and helping what I write find the right audience can be lonely work, leading to some doubt. However, I realize snagging an agent is another step in the process, well before publishing ever happens. And I am also open to pursuing other routes. It's just that I want it to happen NOW.


* When I originally wrote a paper for School of the Spirit about people's experiences of the Divine, they seemed just too precious to simply print on sheets of paper. I dreamed up the idea of a beautiful art box, which took the shape of a colorful turtle adorned with trinkets. In some cultures, the turtle represents the bridge between heaven (the shell) and earth (the belly), which seemed exactly what they stories told. Since the original, I have made about 35 turtleboxes.


• What happens when I am patient? And when I am not?
• Have I ever been demobilized by it? Or acted rashly?
• For me, where does the balance between waiting and acting lay?
• How does finding that balance affect my doubt or confidence?
• What role does prayer play?



it's been
forming
my whole
life

one experience,
feeling and
event
at a time

slowly,
without
me even
realizing


not even
when I
began to
record
the journey

now that
I feel
led to
expose
it

the
moments
of waiting
drag

BREATHE
deeply
and let
the anxiety
go

patience
is part
of the
process

creating
opportunity
for
even more
transformation

Waiting for inspiration

Ok, so I'm still stuck on editing and beginning to believe it is a bigger concept and more about how people process. Even who we are.

Some of us process verbally and put it all out there to be sifted. And, for others, it evolves more slowly and internally, emerging more formed. There are probably combinations and we may switch off, but I have really begun to notice these two distinctions.

I also think much has to do with whether we are an extrovert or introvert.

In the creative process – whether it's art, nurture, ministry, writing or anything else – I don't believe those of us who do it one way, should expect that is THE way. Hum, sounds like a conversation on religion.

When I was younger, I was astounded by two depictions of the writing process. One person would sit alone at her desk for a very long time in silence and THEN the keyboard would explode. Another said she had to wait for inspiration. Heck, I was always on deadline, how can you wait for inspiration, I thought. Once I had my facts, I had no problem spewing, then later editing.

That was commerical writing, for me.

I've since matured, I hope, and write in a completely different way – at least for myself. I used to rely on an outline like a Bible or trusted road map. I still do, on occasion, when I am writing for somebody else and want to be sure to include all of the salient points.

Journaling, however, has taught me a very different process. One influenced by many years of yoga, meditation and worshiping in the Quaker way of silence. One of waiting, feeling, bodily imagining and seeing what emerges.

I seem to go to the place in myself that is unsettled, probably where the creative fire is burning. And sit with it a little. Sometimes not long at all. And I just feel it, swirling or welling up. Like a volcano pulsing, molding and then erupting onto the keyboard. Sometimes into the chalk in my hand and onto the page.

I've never thought about it this concretely before and, in doing so, seem to divest some of the magic.

Nevertheless, whatever has been welling up has done so for awhile and seems to come out somewhat constructed. Possibly edited. It's very much like when I feel led to give vocal ministry in my Quaker meeting (church). There was a very long time in my life when I never thought I'd be able to stand in a group and speak. It's still never easy, yet I am pushed to be the vehicle for a message. Not my message.

First there's a tightening of the heart as if it has been pierced by truth from somewhere. I usually try to push it back down with the inner critic saying, "No one wants to hear that." Or "That's your ego, not a true message."

If it dies out, it wasn't anything. If it keeps coming back and making my heart race, my palms sweat and my legs wobble, then I know I will soon be standing and speaking. Fortunately, Quakers have readily shared this discernment process and the first time I read a description that captured what I had felt, discovered comfortable affirmation.

I have also been told that to be really faithful is to stand and have no idea what you're saying. That has only rarely happened to me and, I suspect, is more the manner of a verbal processor.

Last summer, my 12-year-old whispered in my ear during worship that she thought she had a message to share. I said stick with it and if it doesn't go away, it's probably yours to give. I could see her nervousness and knew it was hers. I told her I'd stand with her and hold her hand if that helped. She went back and forth, the same thing I internalize, when I asked "will you regret it if you don't say it" and she replied "yes." So we stood and I must have trembled as much as she. I will never forget that wonderful day, nor the people who stopped her after worship with a silent hug or words of encouragement. This was not our regular meeting, but they knew this was special and her first vocal ministry.

So what if our messages, out in the public, are our vocal ministry? And what if some have been pushed through an internal editing factory already? Are they any less valid than those that have been tweaked externally?


• What is the current message my life speaks?
• How do I deliver it?
• What is my creative process?
• Have I molded it to the expectation of others or freed myself?
• Can I nurture others in that expression?


exhale
out
the tension

breathe
in
energy

clear the
mind

and
find
the place
in the
body

that's
speaking

what
truth
is there
for me?

shall I
share?

how?

have I
been
faithful?

Where my desire meets the world's need

I had a flash today. A very vivid and chilling flash.

It's no secret that I have been working on a book of words and images, culled from my journals over the last ten years. It's what makes my heart sing and where God calls me.

The one has spilled into two volumes of prose, poetry and paintings as I stumble through life authentically seeking my way. I know it has power.

Well, mostly. Occassionally that nasty critic kicks in and I lose sight momentarily.

The manuscripts are completed and cleanly edited (enough to begin sharing if my perfectionist side will relax). I am still working on matching paintings, filling glaring holes and fitting them with the text. I have titles and a vision for covers. That they will be separate small paperbacks, but one hardbound set encased in a beautifully covered box. Maybe even a high-art set I create in limited number and sign.

Last week, I began to research the publishing world as I am uncertain about whether to self publish (hum ... use my design and marketing skills ... although it's always easier to promote someone else) or begin soliciting some of the big guys. There's also on demand and a bazillion options, which is good, but daunting.

As a part of that exploration, I visited Barnes and Noble to see what new titles are out there, which publishers may be prime targets and where my book(s) may fit. I even noted specific editors of periodicals that seemed similar in tone to mine (the old reporter at work).

I found absolutely nothing like what I am creating. And that was affirming, which is not the reaction I might have expected. Sitting across from a section of books where I could see mine resting, I opened my canvas satchel and gingerly pulled out the green and orange school folders holding my words, my heart, my wisdom, my life.

A bolt of energy sizzled through me and a flash of knowledge that these volumes – my work – belong here. There is a place for it ... the place where my deep desire meets the world's great need.* And that is the place for which I have been mightily and wearily searching.

*Paraphrase of my favorite Frederick Beuchner quote that vocation is "the place where your deep gladness meets the world's deep need."

• What drives the creative life?

• My creative life?

• Am I ready to share myself with the world?

• How will the world respond?

• How will I?

• Can I keep God in my pocket as I make this journey?

The day I searched Barnes and

Noble's shelves for a

book like mine.

The day I opened my messy

manuscripts in orange and

green school folders in

the spiritualty and religion section

of the book store.

Then, I was certain not

only did my book have

a place here, but there

is a real need for

my words, my heart,

my experience.

This is where my deep desire

meets the world's great need.

Thank you!