Power & Authenticity

Here I go again with the Care and Feeding of the Girls in the Basement Class. This week we are talking about power. Lots of butterflies, jangling nerves, metal doors slamming inside my mind. I’m not sure what’s going on with this topic. We touched on it briefly before and it didn’t make me feel particularly weird—but this week, I feel weird. I actually do think it’s related to writing, so bare with me. I’m taking a meandering path but I’ll get to the point. Well, maybe.

Power is a tough topic for me because I have been an underachiever since I hit puberty—a slacker, a party girl, a job hopper, a perpetual grad student. A seeker. Essentially, a person with “leadership qualities” unwilling to lead. A “bohemian philosophe,” according to one group of friends. I tend to think I have to make it as a writer for my life to date to make any sort of sense. To validate my choices thus far.

I’ve avoided power. Over and over again. Why? I’m not sure but the becauses that are surfacing go something like this-- Because I’m afraid I’ll end up feeling responsible for even more people than I already feel responsible for. Because I’m afraid I’m not up to the task. Because I’m afraid that people won’t like me. Because I’d like to just fit in and be like everyone else even though I never have been. Because I have skeletons in my closet. Because I’m damaged goods. Because . . . well, power is oppressive, no? ( It doesn’t have to be but that’s my paradigm.) Because I was taught—trained well-- to hide my light under a bushel.

Now, I’m pretty damn sure I’m doing the avoiding thing in my writing and that is really bothersome to me. What has become increasingly clear to me as we do our Sunday Sixes, and our Girls in the Basement exercises, is that I don’t write or read for escape, romance or a happily ever after. I read for truth and connection—a sense that we’re all part of something bigger than ourselves or anything that happens to us individually, a sense that we’re greater than the sum of what we do or think or commit to. I read to get in touch with my power and authenticity, my humanity, the light that resides in each and every one of us. For the most part, I want all my emotions galvanized. I want to think, I want to feel, I want to laugh but even that’s not enough-- I want a gut check and at least one solid tug at the soul. I want comedy with a bite or tragedy with a kiss and a caress. I want to feel the power of the words, the power of the story, the power of life and love and hope—and even despair. I want to be moved. Preferably deeply.

And I want to write the types of stories I like to I read.

I tend to resist the label “deep” (or “intense” as my friend, Victor, relentlessly referred to me) because, heck, we’re all “deep” in one way or another. In truth , my tastes are very eclectic. However, I do like to play in the deep end more often than not and maybe, just maybe, I have to start saying that aloud and harnessing the power and beauty of it rather than brushing it off or making light of it. I’m passionate about the soul, truth, human nature, the human experience, life and love. While I do enjoy a good romantic comedy, I also love old school writers like Austen, Faulkner, Bronte, Roth, Dostoevsky, and Shakespeare, who tell timeless stories with such social, psychological and spiritual insight that the stories almost hurt because they’re so keen, so sharp, so well-observed. Yes, the reader says, that’s exactly how it is.

That’s powerful.

While I was grocery shopping and pondering my resistance to power, I picked up this month’s Oprah Magazine. The theme of the March issue is authenticity. I had an epiphany of sorts as authenticity and power intermingled together in my mind while gazing at the cover photo of Oprah in green. When you think about it, who in the world is more powerful than Oprah? Not many people. What makes her so amazing is that she harnesses her power for good.

I'm still in "quote mode" from the Sunday Six last week so here are a handful of uplifting quotes on authenticity from the magazine —-

“Be what you are. Give what is yours to give. Have Style. Dare.”
--Stanley Kunitz, from Journal for My Daughter

“True guilt is guilt at the obligation one owes to oneself to be oneself. False guilt is guilt felt at not being what other people feel one ought to be or assume that one is.”
--Ronald David Lang

“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”
--Nora Ephron

“Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be.”
--Fanny Brice

“It’s important to use your voice, whether you are effective or not.” –Patti Smith

“I think of [authenticity] as a commitment, a passion. Seeking and trying to tell the truth. Truth is important in a world that is changing so constantly and so quickly. And searching for authenticity becomes even more urgent in a world increasingly dominated by virtual reality.” – Christiane Amanpour

“Your authentic self cannot rely on other people’s validation. Now, note that this is coming from an actor; I am a professional applause seeker. Yet I know that when you are genuinely genuine, there will invariably be people who don’t accept you. And in that case, you must be your own badass self, without apology. At some point, the importance of being real makes you stop caring about what others think. Ever had that kind of moment? It feels good. Strong. It cures the disease to please.” –Katie Goodman

“We know it when we see it and we love the people who live it—the ones we can count on, always , to be brazenly, exhilaratingly themselves. . . Authenticity is the real deal: speaking up for what you believe in, refusing to be ruled by the desire for acceptance, listening for the difference between the impulses that move you and the fear that holds you back.” -- Oprah Magazine (no author named)

Okay, so what is my point here? I believe that to be powerful, you have to be authentic, especially as an artist, and I haven’t been entirely authentic. I think, perhaps, I’ve danced around this topic a few times here. Obviously, it’s something I’m grappling with now that I’ve finished plotting and dived back into writing. Sometimes I think I get so caught up in what publishers may want, what my critique partners like, what seems to be selling, what other writers say or are doing, that I forget to dig deep. To protect the authenticity of my work. To respect the authenticity of others’ work. We were all born to be brazenly authentic. If I can figure how to do that in my own writing, my storytelling, then I will finally embrace my power and use it for good—to entertain, empower, heal and uplift others.

Cheers and happy writing,
Alyson