Becoming Real

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I just adore the book ‘The Velveteen Rabbit’ written by Margery Williams (thanks, Mops!).  First published in 1922 it has remained in print to inspire millions with the story of the power of imagination and how the Velveteen Rabbit becomes real.

As I’m already almost half way through my ‘year of living authentically’ I thought I’d share my favourite passage as it was part of my original inspiration to do this.  It’s timeless, elegant and clever, and I defy anyone to read it and not feel their heart warmed at least a little:

       “What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room.  “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

       “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.  “It’s a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

       “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

       “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.” 

       “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

       “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time.  That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

       “I suppose you are Real?” said the Rabbit.  And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.  But the Skin Horse only smiled.

       “The Boy’s Uncle made me Real,” he said.  “That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again.”

 

How perfectly poignant is that?  Children’s literature can be so wise and inspirational (you can hardly turn a page in Winnie-the-Pooh without a life lesson).  However deeply hidden under our protective layers it may be we all have the desire to be accepted for who we truly are, for our real selves to be loved, even – or especially – if that’s a little shabby.  Being Real isn’t about being perfect.  I don’t know about you, but I love my teddy bear even more now that his nose is coming unstitched and his belly is threadbare. 

 

 

This Is Me … Today

Today my authentic self is Grumpy Old Woman.  As I write this I’m coming to the end of a seven hour coach journey and am heartily feeling what many of us already appreciate:  public transport was more bearable before the advent of mobile phones. 

            For the majority of this trek across England a man has been talking loudly into his phone, testing the patience of his fellow travellers.  I’m not sure why these disembodied conversations are more aurally invasive than two people actually on the coach chatting, but for some reason they are.  At first we’re understanding – maybe it’s just a quick chat, or he’s calling because of an emergency, or to finalise travel arrangements?  He’s talking in a foreign language and I have no idea what he is saying but as time rolls on the tone doesn’t suggest a problem, and organising a Royal Wedding would probably involve less talk.

            Of course, in that typically English way, I’d rather sit in my seat muttering to myself about the invasion to my reading/sleeping/personal space than risk confrontation, I’d hate to be considered rude by saying something, after all!  As would the other passengers who, judging by the rolling of eyes, loud sighs and challengingly lowered kindles and books are as irritated as me. 

            Then the inevitable happens:  those other previously considerate souls start using their phones, too.  After all, why should they refrain when he is doing it?  A micro-cosmic example of what happens in wider society, the ripple effect.  The peace of the journey further diminishes. 

            Surely having an awareness of the impact of our behaviour on others is A Good Thing?  Does wishing for a little respect and consideration make me a grumpy old woman?  Yes, dear readers, I’m afraid it’s true:  there comes a time in all our lives when we hear ourselves saying things our mothers would say.  You may believe it will never happen to you, we all think that.  But it will, sure as eggs is eggs.  So in the spirit of authenticity, I admit to my inner grumpiness.

            I continue to sit quietly in my seat, willing my brain to develop the laser-like ability to combust his phone with a single thought.  He need never know it’s me!   I’m only slightly concerned that if I had such a superhero/mutant style power, this is the use to which I would put it. 

 

A Perfect Contradiction

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I’ve developed a girlie crush.  I’ve only recently discovered Paloma Faith since she started promoting her ‘A Perfect Contradiction’ album, but now I’ve seen her interviewed a few times I think she is the perfect Poster Girl for authenticity (if that isn’t an oxymoron).  Smart, sassy, and a complete original.  The proverbial breath of fresh air, in a balmy sea breeze kind of way, how can you not love her?

“I think what makes me different from the Average Joe

is that I feel free to be myself and express myself

in the way that I want.

If that makes you mad, we’re living in a world of dire straits.

If anything it makes you more sane.”

 

~ Paloma Faith

 

Conforming simply isn’t an option for Paloma.  As she explained with a shrug to Paul O’Grady, it’s just so much easier to be herself, it means she doesn’t have to worry about what she is saying.  Art without the artifice.

I was going to say being authentic comes naturally to her then realised how daft that is.  Being authentic comes naturally to us all.  It’s the layers of learned behaviour and insecurities that screw us up. 

“Once you accept that we’re all imperfect,

it’s the most liberating thing in the world.

Then you can go around making mistakes

and saying the wrong thing and tripping over in the street

and all that and not feel worried.”

 

~ Paloma Faith 

 

It May Be Simple But It’s Not Easy

Lately two slightly absurd notions have been consuming me:  who is the real me, and what if I don’t like her very much?  It feels a little like tumbling down a rabbit hole to be confronted by a hallway where every door hides a version of me and I’m wondering if I’ll drink to shrink or eat to grow. 

Then I realise I’m too much in my head.   And putting too much emphasis on consistency, because of course we all have different sides.  We’re complex and messy and our personalities don’t have only one setting.   How I react to something today may be different tomorrow but does that make me inauthentic?  When I let my insecurities get the better of me, I’m not as generous spirited as I would hope.  And then I don’t like myself very much.  Maya Angelou said “when you know better, you do better” so I can only hope to learn from these times and go on to do better. I’m happier when I’m nicer.

If I do, then of course I won’t be the same person tomorrow that I am today because I will have grown from experience.  One of my biggest lessons is to accept it’s okay for me not to be perfect, that’s a doozy.  But who has lived and hasn’t made mistakes?  I need to get better at appreciating this.

I said ‘absurd’ because of course if I’m being true to myself then both of those questions are redundant.  There is only one me, in all of my messiness, and if I honour the essence of that then I’ll be someone I like.  So I need to get out of my head and tune into my gut because that keeps me authentic.  Simple, but not always easy.  It’s a minute-by-minute practice, but I’m learning.