Humility and Power
Jason is a very powerful being, but I believe he was too humble when he was alive.
And I’m learning that all of us humans are often too humble.
Why don’t we celebrate our gifts more with others?
Yesterday I found about 20 songs on his ipod that I hadn’t heard before; a few were amazing. Why didn’t he show us these songs? He’s written about 60, but I processed some upset about not knowing about these 20 – guilt that I should have known about them, sadness that he may have thought that they weren’t good enough. Then I calmed down and realized many were older pieces he didn’t pursue, some were short cuts he was playing with, and several were recent ones with lyrics that perhaps were too private. He wrote many poems he didn’t share with us; he was very private. He used his creativity for self-healing, and I admire his ability to take care of himself. I got support in a co-counseling session last night, and I’m clear that this was Jason’s choice not to share this music, for whatever reasons, and that was fine with me. Many of his friends never even heard his music until I gave him them his music CD after he died.
Why didn’t he tell more people? In some ways Jason was just too friggin humble.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. Jason showed the world his photography on DeviantArt and he was on the favorites list of 100s of his fans, wanting to be notified of all of his postings. It was comfortable for him to do this on the internet because the feedback gave him confirmation of his talents, but he didn’t brag about his art in person, and he didn’t jump at doing art shows. I helped him with a couple early on, but in the past couple of years he didn’t want to do the work to put on an art show; he just wanted to make the art, and boy, did he! He showed his parents and close friends what he was working on, and I often knew when the latest creation was ready for viewing or listening when I heard a delighted exclamation from his studio.
It was perhaps his success on DeviantArt that got him thinking about pursuing photography, and not go to college for music. Last fall I encouraged him to put together a demo CD to take to college interviews. I set up a portfolio review session, and he at first was excited and then resisted going, after we had to cancel the initial visit due to his illness. Being sick last year slowed him down and got him depressed. Perhaps he was getting some unconscious premonition of his near-end, because he didn’t even want to talk about college. Finally, in July when he was feeling well, it was such a joy to see him happily showing the college admissions person in San Francisco his photography on the internet, a week before he passed.
Jason was very confident about his art and saw himself as a gifted artist. He was proud of his achievements; he even kept neat notebooks of all his report cards with mostly A’s, but he never celebrated this except with his parents. He didn’t show off enough, in my mind. What held him back?
Jason had high standards; he had an acute critical eye for music and art. He had mentioned once or twice to me and his father Chuck that he didn’t think his music was that great. I couldn’t believe it, but I could understand he might jump to this conclusion because no one bought his first CD. His music was a bit out there, the “left field” genre. He was a pioneer, and much of his music didn’t appeal to the mainstream. He did brilliant sound and music experimentation, much of it perfect for sound healing and journeying. I wish I had gotten his stuff out to the right music experts early on, and I have some regret about that. I planned to have him do it in college. I plan to do this, at the right time; it’s too much for me right now in my grieving process. I believe his music has financial value, so we will make sure to protect copyright.
If Jason didn’t fully get it when he was alive, then in his current ego-less state I trust he knows how good his work is.
Maybe when he was alive he was afraid that if he was too powerful he would scare people away. Where did he get that from? From me? I was a lot like Jason when I was young. It took me well into my 40s to be able to show my gifts without fear of being judged or fear of losing friends. I find that I inspire others to show their gifts, and that creates intimacy. Jason knew how to empower others; that was another of his gifts, and he had an abundance of friends and people who loved him all over the world on the internet.
When we share our gifts with self-love and love for others we empower others to share their gifts and feel powerful, too.
What other talents do I want to share with others before I leave this plane? I just made a CD of music that I’ve recorded with my voice and viola, and that feels good. I have many compositions that I haven’t shared yet, on a recording studio that I haven’t figured out how to master songs from. I have a blog of writings of Jason’s messages and my grieving journey, and that feels good. I’ll keep on writing. I won’t be too humble when I market my expert consulting and training services in the corporate world. I share my gifts of teaching spirituality and community building with Kule, and we will continue to do retreats and explore building an intentional community. We’ve been doing Avatar manifesting practices and reading “One Year to Live” by Steven Levine, to clear old stuff and practice living each moment as if that is all there is.
Life can be too short; Jason proved that. “I’ll do it someday” doesn’t work for me anymore, but at the same time I have been given the gift of patience from Jason. All I know is that when I feel called to be in my power and use my gifts, I listen and follow my heart. It knows what to do.
Humility is wonderful, when we are also in our power.
Jason, you were humble and powerful in life, and I feel that in your spirit.
Thanks again for being my teacher.