The Parable of Talents
“And remember the
parable of the talents, will you now. Do you mean to stand before God, come the
Last Day, and tell Him you spurned the gifts He gave you?” The Scottish
Prisoner by Diana Gabaldon
I was reading this morning before I felt I had to get up and
start my day -- another day of not feeling like I was ready to get back into
the studio and work -- when I came across this passage. I did have a Christian
upbringing, complete with Sunday School, and Confirmation classes, and regular
church attendance, so the reference niggled at my brain, mainly because of the
word, “parable”, but I didn’t quite remember it, so I took to Google, and
quickly came up with a reference in the Bible: Matthew 25: 14-30. While I do
consider myself a spiritual person, I have had struggles with organized
religion from almost the moment I got out from under parental control. I do
find a bit of humor in this particular struggle since my upbringing and related
education also leaves me with that unique form of Christian guilt, which lately
has been about how I approach my work.
Everything about living as an artist is a self-directed
balancing act, and I have always found this the most challenging aspect of the
whole enchilada. Work vs. downtime; making stuff that you know will sell vs.
making stuff that feeds your soul; the work involved with the making and the
work involved with the making a living (given a choice, I would make stuff and
give it away if only I could); and what seems like a million other pairs of
diametric opposites sitting across from each other on the see-saw. I know some
would argue that you’re only supposed to be making stuff that feeds the soul,
but I think as an artist, I try, but only partially succeed in this. You’ve got
to throw a lot of chocolate at the wall before some starts to stick. The stuff
that doesn’t stick is not completely unworthy, and in fact plays a major role
in getting to the yummy stuff stuck to the wall. It’s chocolate, not crap!
Needless to say, I hadn’t cracked open the Bible in quite a
while. Lately, I’ve been revisiting my form of spiritualism, and making some
attempts at beefing things up in that department a bit. This is hard for me in
that I am not a particularly nostalgic person, nor do I like to waste time trying
to answer the big unanswerable questions, like “Why am I here?” or “What
happens when we die?” Ironically, the only folks that can answer that question
are dead. I also continue to struggle with what to make and why I’m making it.
The answers change over time I think. When I first started this particular leg
of my life journey in 1998, the answers in the beginning were quite simple -- in
hindsight. I was just starting out, so I could get away with answers that were easily
satisfying and quite black and white. For example, I was honing my skills, both
with my art, as well as learning to live as self-directed person – as an artist
and micro business woman. Then, in the more recent past, I used to think I
shouldn’t think too much. That what I make “in the zone” automatically has that
mystical quality built in. I am merely a vessel for a much larger planetary
force. Just do it (the best tagline of the 20th century, in my
opinion). The work will speak for itself. The more you work, the more you want
to work. That all worked for quite a while.
But, I really have to come out and admit that this is no
longer enough for me, nor has it been for quite some time, and more and more I
have been thinking I need to start answering some tougher questions and
creating in a more mindful spiritual environment. Don’t confuse spiritual with
religious. Whether my spirituality translates in some way into religion remains
to be discovered. Another gem I recently ran into comes from Twelve by
Twelve by William Powers, “…faithfulness to the path given.” That needs to
be on a T-shirt. Or embroidered on a pillow. That you sleep on. So I’ve been
asking myself a lot lately, “Am I being faithful to the path given me?” The rub
is that I think there’s room for improvement, but the how is eluding me.
I’ve also discovered that the less you work, the less you
want to work, unless you have a really good reason to work, which isn’t about
money in this case, although it may come to that. So this is where I currently
am at on my artistic path. I do still believe in that mystical thing that
happens once in a while when you are creating – where you really can feel
yourself being used by a force greater than yourself for something good. In
fact, I think I still believe in all the mantras of the middle phase. I just
need all that and something more.
Once I (re)read the “Parable of Talents” I remembered it
from my childhood. I’m more impressed now than I was then, which is another
truism I’ve discovered – sometimes you’re just not ready to hear or appreciate
the message. “Talents” in this case are pieces of money. But in the way of
parables, I think you could also use talents to mean the gifts you have, what
you are good at, which for me is creating stuff. That part I have never
doubted. I’m convinced I was put on the earth to make stuff.
But it’s the what to make and why make that, that is the
bigger deal these days. If I can answer these questions more meaningfully, I’m
convinced my talents will multiply. As I wrestle through trying to find the way
to go and the answers that will satisfy me now and going forward, I cannot help
but wonder if I am completely living up to my potential. Have I been doing the
work that will multiply my talents? Lately, I think I could do better. So the
timing of running into the Parable of Talents could not be better for me and it
does make me wonder if there isn’t “someone” looking out for me. I don’t really
believe in coincidences. It certainly is easier to bury your talents in order
to go the safe route. But if you want them to multiply, you have to use them
wisely and prodigiously and courageously. I’ve got ideas; I just have to go
into the studio and make stuff. “Just Do It” still does apply. But it should
also encompass answering the tough question of “Why?” I’m hopeful I’ll always
be able to define and bring to fruition a worthy idea, and that these will
always eventually overpower any natural inclination I have for safety.
