Courage

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My friend Emily is an oil painter; that’s her real name; you’re gonna hear from her in her own voice later in the episode. She attended her first art class at the age of 32. Her projects are born from ideas that she can’t shake, and all her life, becoming an artist had been one of those ideas…no matter how far she ran from it, the fact that she wanted to paint just wouldn’t leave her. She longed to lose herself in the deep focus of a creative endeavor, a mesmerizing feeling she hadn’t felt since childhood if she was honest.

Recently Emily was telling me about a competition that she’d entered. I was like, “where do you find the courage to submit your work, to throw your hat in the ring, to keep trying?” She said, oh, that’s simple. I get my courage from Zelda.”

“As in, the video game?”

“There’s a reason why they call her a legend!”

This podcast is from Emily.

It’s for anyone who needs a little boast of bravery

Its for artists who feel the impulse to hide their work away out of fear.

This show is for anyone looking to debunk that “tortured artist” stereotype, for those who want to believe that the creative life can bring us deep satisfaction, healing, and even joy. I’m so glad you’re here.

I’m Merideth Hite Estevez, and this is Artists for joy the podcast

SHORT MUSIC BREAK

each week I will share stories of artists seeking joy… We’ll explore how so many travelers along this The Artist’s Way have left us breadcrumbs—wisdom and inspiration that can help us stay joyful on the journey.

Today on the podcast, a topic that was requested by a long-time listener (You do know I take requests, by the way, right?) COURAGE. How do we cultivate it? Why is it an important attribute in the creative life? How do we become stronger and braver in the face of hard things? I’ll share one of the moments of my career as an oboist that required some major courage, I’ll reveal what Emily learned from the legend of Zelda, plus I’ll share some really inspiring words from listeners and give you something to consider this week, but first here’s some more music.

It was an average December night in New York City. I was practicing at a friend's apartment in the mid-thirties on the far east side of the island (this fact is important for reasons I will explain in a moment.) It was a few days before Christmas, the semester had ended, and I was practicing some music for a Christmas eve gig when I heard my phone ping. It was a text from my teacher at Juilliard. “The third oboist in the orchestra for the Girl of the Golden West tonight at the Metropolitan Opera has been in a car accident on the way to the hall. She’s fine but won’t make it here in time. Could you step in?” I looked at the clock. It was 7:23. The downbeat was at 8:00. I had 37 minutes to find black clothing (which I luckily had with me), my instrument (which was luckily in my hand), and get across town to Lincoln Center. This was that moment they always talk about, I thought to myself. That moment when the call comes in, and it's your chance. Was I ready? I had no time to answer that. I typed, “I’m on my way,” and sent it. Her next text described where I was to meet the personnel manager for the orchestra at the stage door, explaining that I would be escorted to my seat in the pit. She also said, “This is a live broadcast; it’ll be on Sirius XM radio tonight.” Gulp.

I decided to take the subway, even though it was not the most direct route. I walked/ran to Grand Central, and while I did, I breathlessly called my parents to tell them to turn on the radio. I grabbed the S train to Time Square, where I switched to the 1 and exited at Lincoln Center at 65th street and Broadway. (By the way, if anyone ever asks, the subway is almost always faster than taking a cab, except on weekends or extremely early or late hours, for your information. Subway is always better. Ask a cab driver. They’ll agree.) By 7:52, I was in the pit. I felt the eyes of everyone in the wind section as I found my way to the 3rd oboe chair. The lights blinked, alerting the audience to take their seats. The principal bassoonist who was behind me leaned forward, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, “Hey, you can definitely hear the third oboe part at letter M in Act II.” I frantically flipped to that page, but my teacher (I had one on either side of me, which was consoling) said, “Act 1 is first. Use intermission to look through Act 2. And watch the key signatures. You never play alone, so if we aren’t with you, you’re in the wrong place.” And then came the downbeat. 2.5 hours of Puccini later, I had made my Met debut.

When I started thinking more about courage this week, I remembered that night that I got that call in New York City and how I responded almost unthinkingly. As majorly scary and risky as it was…on the surface, it looks like sight-reading an opera with one of the world’s best orchestras live on the radio would take immense courage. And it did. But if I’m honest, sometimes being an oboist at all, being an artist at all, feels like a courageous act in and of itself. Doesn’t it? So I wanted to name that first. I got that call that I thought would change everything, it didn’t, by the way, it changed my plans for that night and a few other nights. But how about normalizing that the need for courage didn’t stop or start when your quote-unquote big break comes? The artist’s life takes courage, like playing the oboe takes breath.

I read a quote recently from painter Gerhard Richter that said, “Art is the highest form of hope” and this kind of gets at it. By doing the work in our creative endeavors, we believe in something that we cannot yet see, we hope for things to come, and so we must have courage in the face of uncertainty and fear, to move forward in spite of them, in the name of hope.

So how do you develop more courage? How do you become the kind of person who can stay the course in the face of hard things, who can answer all the calls when they come in and say yes to all the offers that the creative life gives?

Here are two things that have helped me step into more courage…what I’m calling the two W’s—the Why and the Work.

First, the Why—it is so much easier to live a life of creative courage when you are connected to what you really want, to what matters most to you. When you name your values out loud, express why you are doing something, and who / what / where you want to be, then you can make decisions more easily. I didn’t think twice about packing up my oboe and heading across town because that was why I was in NYC in the first place. I had come there to study the oboe, to become an oboist, and so of course, I would say yes when someone offered me a chance to do that, even though it was very scary. When you name and claim why you are practicing your art, what you want out of your creative career, and what values matter most as you do that, then courage is the force that catapults you toward your dreams. And stepping outside of your comfort zone, remember, will definitely cause the negative inner voices to begin firing, and so don’t think that just because you have doubts or hear those blurts that attempt to convince you you are not good enough, that doesn’t mean you aren’t on the right path, in fact, when those voices show up within you, it could mean you are finally on the right path because you are doing something new and different. Connect deeply with your WHY to cultivate courage.

Secondly, to become more courageous, we must do the work. We have to stay connected to our values to help us make decisions, but once we decide who and what we want to be, we then have to commit to taking small steps every day to actually get there. Show up at the desk or the instrument or wherever you do the work, every day, with devotion. There are going to be days where you feel like it isn’t worth it or it’s too hard, keep doing the work anyway, even when the call doesn’t come or the work isn’t recognized; hard work, consistency, and creative devotion builds courage. It gives you the wisdom to know when to step out into the arena, and your training, your practice, the gift you give yourself in the face of the immensely risky thing you are about to do—the hard work becomes a net that keeps you from falling.

To be more courageous, stay connected to your why and keep doing the work. There are many things we cannot control in our creative lives, but these two things are like weapons to defend yourself as we seek to rescue Princess Zelda from the evil Ganon, which brings me back to Emily, the oil painter. I’ll let her tell it:

“So I’m not a huge fan of screens and video games but as a young teenager, my family bought a Nintendo 64. And one of the games we had with Zelda. And this was a game that was part strategy (like a multilevel game where you’re going through different worlds), it took hours and hours and hours to finish this game spread across weeks, maybe even months, I can’t remember, but the one thing I think that that game gave me as a gift of an almost blind belief that there is always a path forward. And it may be challenging, and it may be hard to find that path or beat a certain level, but the game was designed to be won. It was designed to be a challenge, but it was designed to be won and I think that really gave me this idea in life that you’re going to run into problems. You’re gonna run into challenges, but the game is designed to be won, and as a visual artist, I can look at artists that I admire who have run the race in front of me and worked with galleries I wanna work with. They developed a style that I appreciate and I can see that there is a path forward, it may take years and years of practice and hours of hard work, but but there’s a path forward and that’s a gift. Obviously there are plenty of artists were talented, who have done excellent work, and they have not received recognition in their lifetime and that is the case… but I think that we do ourselves a disservice by not believing things are possible in the first place, that we have to start from this belief that there is a path forward, that there is a chance to succeed in the efforts. So believing the game is meant to be won is essential, but it really comes down to whether or not we have the courage to set out on that path and stay on that path. Keep going in the face of failure and setbacks. Courage is a game changer. It’s that thing that drives us to try again and I had to keep that belief going and in motion.

Even when you can’t see a way out, even when you have no idea how you are going to beat this level and go onto the next, the thing that separates us from others is the fact that we keep playing. Even when the phone doesn’t ring or you don’t win the competition, or the doors haven’t opened yet. Real creative courage is born from the hope that the game is ultimately meant to be won, and that, courage is the game-changer.

I’ll be right back.

I posed the question on social media, what is the bravest thing you ever did and boy, did I get some incredibly inspiring responses:

I have artist friends and followers who:

Have left toxic relationships, religions, chamber groups, jobs, etc.

They have struck out on their own, sometimes with young children and no family or money in their bank account.

They have undergone treatment for cancer or addiction, they have bounced back from career-ending injuries, and have gone on tour alone with a 9-month-old whew, props for that!

They have started their own businesses, learned to drive at age 65, they have climbed in and out of the grand canyon, and almost run out of water.

They did the incredibly brave work of reporting abuse, harassment, and worse when it could have cost them their lives and did cost them their jobs and their community.

They’ve bungee jumped and sky dived and took the long shot audition and joined the Marines. They’ve stood up to bullies, blown the whistle, and hiked the El Camino alone. They have moved to another country where they didn’t speak the language, and they have come out to their loved ones. They have stepped in to care for their daughter / father / uncle, who was dying when they had no one else. They have fought off intruders, followed that car, raised four children alone. They’ve bought and renovated houses and gotten sober and stayed in the marriage. They push past the fear to find a better life that aligns with their deepest values. They are incredibly brave. And so many of those who have done these hard things have prioritized their creativity in spite of all the barriers and challenges in our way. In fact, they saw their creative expression as something that sustained them when things got hard, not only a thing that required courage but a hope that carried them through the darkest times.

If you want to share your response to the question, what is the bravest thing you’ve ever done, or tell me what you think of the episode or give me a question to answer, click the link in the show notes.

Now for today’s coda…

The 2022 Fifa World Cup in Qatar was one for the books. (Ok, let me be real and stop trying to act like I even watch more than 3 minutes of it, but stay with me.) I read recently that the finals actually broke a record for the number of games decided via penalty shootout in a world cup tournament ever: and that number is 5. 5 different games went to penalty shootouts because the score was tied even after extra time. Penalty shootouts mean each team goes to the goal and takes a turn shooting, the best out of 5 wins. It is incredibly stressful. Suddenly the goal looks like cavernous jaws threatening to swallow the poor goalie. And you bet everyone’s eyes are on that player, who literally has a split second to decide. Jump left or jump right?

And so my question for you today is this…which way will you jump? We have to make the best call we can with the information we have at the time, and sometimes a ball gets by us. We cannot be all things to all people. Being a courageous, creative person means making the best decision you can, connecting to your why, and doing the work, but it feels important to say that sometimes we go right, and the ball goes left. Remember that quote by Roosevelt that inspired Brene Brown to write the Daring Greatly books? “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

In the end, the ball is heading your way, and you can go left, or you can go right. Which way will you go? Trust yourself enough to know that whatever direction you choose, it is the courage to jump at all that counts, that being in the arena, being willing to risk it all in the name of what matters most to you, in service to the person you are becoming that’s a goal no one can take away from you, regardless of the score of the game.

That’s it for today’s episode of artists for joy. It was created, written, and produced by me, Merideth Hite Estevez. This podcast is free for your listening pleasure, but if you would like to support the work of artists for joy, a woman-led LLC that helps creatives thrive, you can buy me a coffee by clicking the link in the show notes. If you enjoyed the show, could you do us a favor and share it with a friend, or as every podcast host says…leave us a rating and write a review in apple podcasts. Seriously this allows us to serve more artists, so thanks in advance for your help.

Today’s music features music of one of the most courageous composers of all time in my opinion, Ludwig van Beethoven. There was a piano sonata featuring pianist Raviv Leibzirer and a recording of the 5th symphony from the European archive. All recordings are licensed, and used with permission.

Next week I will be back with one of our musical meditation episodes that will feature some self-coaching questions for cultivating courage and put some of the music you heard today center stage. And, exciting announcement, in March, I am breaking from my normal rhythm here on the podcast to feature some listeners who I believe will inspire you with their courage, and give you a jolt of creative inspiration, more on that later, but make sure you subscribe and follow wherever you listen so you don’t miss an episode. Until then, take good care.

Today’s sounds of joy is a recording of something I did recently that took some courage. My friend Sarah Lewis (assitant principal oboist of the detroit symphony) and I played a concert together and we decided to crowd source a piece of programmatic music for two oboes. We had the audience write a love story, because the concert was on Valentines day, and they wrote a sweet tale of a young girl trying michigan cherries for the first time and falling in love with them. Then Sarah and I improvised the telling of that tale through music. Pretty fun and silly stuff. Enjoy.