Indiegogo tells me that there are 64 hours left in the Pilgrimage of Desire campaign.
Running this fundraiser has opened me up to an unprecedented range of emotions.
Because running this fundraiser has allowed me to be affected by other people much more than I usually am.
When I send an email to hundreds of friends and family, I feel eager and shy. When people respond with chatty messages and contributions, I feel ecstatic. When I get silence back, I feel curious and a little uneasy. When there’s curt dismissal, I feel wounded and mystified.
When I see the total amount go up quickly, I feel hopeful! When it stalls, I feel discouraged.
When I hear comments back about the book, I flush with pleasure. Comments like:
This project is beautiful, moving, and inspiring. Thank you for making this book. xo — Sarah Selecky (short story writer and creator of Story is a State of Mind)
LOVE IT! LOVE IT! You were a great creativity coach to me, and still are through your blog and email blasts – and this is just wonderful. And, I will guarantee you that just as I saw myself (misery and future salvation) in it, many other creatives will too. Pleasers of the world, set yourselves free! — Marla (one of my first clients)
Alison, your prose is lush, and your message so important! Thank you for writing this beautiful memoir — I can’t wait to read the rest! — Melissa Dinwiddie (a creativity coach who just posted a lovely interview with me)
WOW, girl – this is beautiful – the prose, the beauty of the pages, the vulnerability, the challenge. I’m so very impressed by how this has taken shape so far, and so excited for you. Blessings as the journey unfolds! — Jacquie de Raaf (my sister-in-law; the support from family has been extra special)
I have always remembered you as the woman who chose to pay the full fee because you knew you deserved it. And so you do, dear Alison. I honour all you have accomplished in your life’s journey so far and look forward to hearing more from you as you guide others on their creative path. — Janice Falls (the therapist who gave me the handrail image for intention)
When I decide to post these comments as social proof, I feel prickly with self-consciousness.
When I see Shawn cook, do dishes, buy groceries, and look after the kids all day for two weeks, I feel lucky and also guilty.
Many of these feelings are unfamiliar and uncomfortable, even the good ones.
My instinct towards independence means that I like to insulate myself. I’ll interact, I’ll collaborate, but I hesitate to put myself in a position where I must rely on the good graces of others. I’d rather stay in control.
And now, my art, my service, is asking more from me. As I said in my Women Branching Out interview with Christie Halmick:
As artists, I think we all reach a point where we have to recruit others to our cause if we want our creations to have the scope and power they deserve. So this fundraiser is great practice in advocating for myself and my writing, something that every professional artist needs to be adept at.
And doing this has reminded me that in giving there is receiving. When I worry that I’m putting people out by asking for money and publicity, I try to remember what they’re getting back: the joy of being useful, the fulfillment of being invested in an important project, and the pleasure of connection. Friends, family, and strangers have stepped forward to back this campaign, and they seem delighted to do it. So when I feel shy about sending out yet another email request, I remember that I’m giving people a gift too — the gift of doing communal good.
I wonder how many of us keep our projects modest, our ambitions curtailed, because we don’t want to subject ourselves to these emotions? The sting of rejection and the thrill of reward are both intense.
I’m practicing my creative rituals to keep myself grounded: writing down God’s words, doing yoga, meditating, and spending time with my family. But the emotions are still upending me. And that’s okay.
With a few days to go in the campaign, I’m reminded of a story from Frog and Toad Together (hat-tip to Sara Zarr for connecting this story to the creative process in a writing workshop I took with her).
The Garden
Toad admires Frog’s garden and wants one of his own. Frog sends him off with some seeds and a warning that a garden is hard work. Toad plants the seeds and then shouts at them to start growing. But nothing happens.
Frog thinks that the seeds are afraid because of the shouting, and advises Toad to leave them alone. But Toad cannot. He lights candles so they will not be afraid of the dark. He reads stories and poems, sings songs, and plays music for the seeds. Still nothing. And Toad is so tired that he falls asleep.
When Frog wakes him up, wonder of wonders! The garden has sprouted!
“Now you will have a nice garden too,” says Frog.
“Yes,” said Toad, “but you were right, Frog. It was very hard work.”
I feel a strange sense of peace about this fundraiser. Yes, there is a temptation to shout at the seeds to grow a little taller! But I know that I’ve done my utmost to run a successful campaign, and now it’s out of my hands. I will keep sending emails and doing updates, but I must trust the seeds to do their thing.
You know about the campaign. And I know you will become a contributor if you believe in its mission:
To inspire creatives who are prone to depression that they can follow their desires and design a joyful art-committed life.
Peace out.
P.S. Michelle, my book designer, has written an impassioned endorsement for Pilgrimage of Desire on her own site. I am privileged to partner with someone who believes so full-heartedly in my work.
{ 0 comments… add one }