Several years ago,
I felt a deep ache in my soul, so I began a quest. I wanted to understand my own value. I wanted to know who I truly was and what I had to bring into the world. And I needed to figure out what was obstructing my view. I had to find the courage to step out. And that first step cannot exist anywhere but at the beginning. So, I started at the roots.
Obviously, this was going to be quite a long journey since I was setting out from a very foggy place. One steeped in insecurities that I would not find the value I was searching for. A place obscured by the fear that I wouldn’t like what I found on this voyage. In that moment, I was sure of only one thing: where I was standing was not a place I wanted to stay. On that I had clarity. All the edges were sharp and clean. And when you’re in an obscured, hazy place, you hold tight with both hands to the one thing that’s in focus. No matter how scary it seems. Because that is where the truth lies, and you know it in the deepest part of your soul. Even when you feel lost, somehow you still know that the truth will never leave a false trail. The truth will lead you home.
So, there I was, standing with knees quaking, my bags packed, starting a journey when I had no idea where it would lead. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay where I was. That place was killing my soul. My life was not expanding, it was shrinking. It was time to move. I began, not really knowing where to even start… just knowing I had to start.
I gave myself permission to explore. To start seeking. It felt a little like when you’ve been in a place where there’s an absence of light and your pupils widen to their limits, and then you walk out into the sun and you’re blinded. Your eyes are overwhelmed and seem to shut down. But given time, they adjust. They begin to see in the new light. Shapes emerge. Colors appear.
My path took me digging through the unique strata that had become my life. I started exploring my own soul terrain. Working through each layer to get deeper and deeper. Closer to my center. The space that belongs to no one else. The gravitational core from which my life spins out.
As I did my excavation, I began to uncover pieces of myself. I started to find my voice that had been muffled by the censure of my own hand. I uncovered a new understanding of my own value that had been so buried that it seemed to be non-existent. And I liked the feeling of inhabiting this person that I was discovering. She was more peaceful, more content, and more free. I started creating a new language and gathering touchstones, collecting markers of the words, things and people that inspired and aided me along the way. Like a map, they could help me find my way back when I had veered off the path. I even decorated my own body with directions so that I could find my way home. I got three tattoos. One said Ometz Lev, which is a Hebrew word for courage: the courage that comes from strength of heart, strength of soul. The next was the word Veritas, the Latin word for truth: the truth that is uncovered or comes into focus. And the last was bluebirds in flight. For me, it represented freedom: the freedom that comes when you spread your wings. The bluebirds also symbolized protection for the passage, helping me find my way through transition to transformation. The three tattoos worked together to remind me daily that if I just have the courage to seek the truth, I will find freedom.
I learned that this is real truth. The kind that may not be easy or what you want it to be. It doesn’t alter in order to fit pre-formed beliefs or systems. It knows what it is and has no attachment to being recognized or not. It becomes a compass to the center.
It is not one singular truth which leads to one final freedom. It is a thousand little truths that happen every day, which if embraced and acknowledged, can give another ounce of freedom. One less weight to carry. One less link in the chain that holds us down. One less lie to confine us and keep us small.
So our freedom is created little by little. Our wings are created feather by feather. Every day. Step by step. Layer by layer. Not in big leaps, but in whispers.
As the days, months and years passed along my quest, I would begin to feel exhausted. And exhaustion lives in a symbiotic relationship with impatience. And so it went. I became frustrated and impatient with the pace of my own hopeful enlightenment. I wanted to know what my purpose was. Now. And as usual, my own truth was not on the same timetable as my conscious mind. So I decided to try something new.
Even though I did not consider myself an artist, I did know that creativity filled my soul. So, I began exploring questions I had using the creative process. I first began collaging the voices I heard in my head that try to keep me small and distracted. I wanted to see if I could possibly disarm them by getting them out of my brain and into a visible incarnation. I cut pictures out of magazines that seemed to represent all these dark thoughts and words that I had been hearing for decades. On a large board, I began arranging the words in a huge spiral on top of the images I had found. I trusted my instincts and tried not to over think it or attempt to make it look perfect. It became an expression of my process… not a product to be judged or consumed. It looked like a enormous spiral of words that sucked you down into darkness. It was so empowering to get those words out of my head and look at them from a new angle. I loved it. I began to feel lighter by unloading all this.
Then came time for the other side of the board. On the opposite side, I began to place images that filled my soul. On top of these images, I placed words. Positive words that others had used to describe me, or even words I used in my more empowered moments. Instead of a dark spiral, these words expanded, meandered and burst onto the board. They began to recover the space that the damaging words had occupied. Getting the negative words out had created room for new words to take their place. Words that encouraged rather than undermined. That expanded rather than diminished.
After I finished, I was hooked. I had new energy, a new purpose. A path had emerged. Even though I still had no idea where I was going on my journey, or why I was doing it, I knew that the creative process was the way I would get there. So, I decided to use the creative process to explore. To uncover and disarm the obstacles in my mind, and then discover truths that would lead me to where I truly wanted to be. To whom I truly wanted to be.
I began uncovering lies and old wounds. And giving them light to expose them, and air to heal them. I began to find a new understanding of myself. I found the value I was seeking. I found myself. The creative process helped me do this. And somewhere along the path, I realized that I had unearthed my purpose. The process I used to discover and reclaim myself actually ended up being a gift that I had to bring into the world. It was the process and not the product. It was an expression and an experience. And that is how Excavate was breathed into life.