What's up Michoupitchou

The emerging part of the iceberg Michelle Pichon in words, images and sounds

[michoupitchou]

Hear me roar

Today, I see clearly that if I want to be a powerful presence in the world, I need to use my body and my voice.

To be present is to have a body, a voice, and a soul, right here in the moment.

Today, I get to reinvent what it means for me to be present. To be an artist. To be a person. To be a human. To be a priestess. To be a woman.

I am me, embodied, and loud as fuck.

Photo credit @daniellebarnumphotography

[michoupitchou]

Magic wand

We all have a magic wand. It’s also known as “taking action” and “persevering”.

If you want something, truly want something, and you feel it in your guts that it’s good for you, take the steps that you need to get it.

Maybe it seems out of reach right now. Maybe it is out of reach right now. But with patience and perseverance, and taking the right actions the right time, it’s possible.

Anything that’s truly meant to be is possible.

[michoupitchou]

Photo credit: Yuxin Sun

Vulnerability

Is vulnerability really one of my strength?

I like to think that I am versed at being vulnerable with people, but I realized recently that I was not fully comfortable with ”not delivering“ on a climbing day with friends.

I chose an easier/more familiar crag. I knew it would be in reach, and that we could have good climbs there. And it seemed, at least in retrospect, that I would more securely complete the climbs. I would look like a strong climber to my friends.

I like maintaining this image of me, strong, powerful, confident, competent Michelle. But would my friends love me any less if I failed?

Once they were gone, I practiced rappelling while Brad waited for me to set up the system safely and then slowly lower myself down. Of course I am comfortable-ish being potentially incompetent when I am with Brad. But on the other hand, I want to maintain a straight reputation with my friends.

That had me question the self-image I have of being a person who can be vulnerable and open with people.

Being vulnerable is certainly context dependent. I think it’s fair to protect ourselves from potential external negativity or judgment. We also probably need to balance vulnerability and confidence at work for example.
 As this image of myself as a vulnerable person is crumbling just a little bit, I wonder why it’s important to me to appear. “vulnerable “in some situations and “confident” in others.

It seems like being vulnerable is more of an idea. Maybe even an ideal. Transparency. Sharing myself like an open book.

But a book is crafted. Each word was carefully written. So I write the story of my vulnerable self. I share myself. The version of myself that I want others to see.

Is it bad? Probably not. We most likely all do that to some extent represent what we perceive as our best self. Why not after all? Would you be a better person if you presented your worst self all the time?

Yet, the question remains for me: Am I accepting all of myself if I keep the worst part private? And, in this privacy, am I truly aware or accepting of the worst of me? The parts of me that make me fallible and human. Fully human.

It seems easier to me to be vulnerable in writing. To share myself through words that carry a meaning and sometimes poetry. The addition of art, of craft, makes it much more “acceptable“ to me. We’ve created something good out of the failures. We can move on now. Maybe it’s the learning that comes from feeling that is the most important.

Or maybe the most important is to come back to the present, whenever we possibly can. Whenever we notice we are caught elsewhere.

My friend Rich said “right now, there’s no problem”.

Maybe being fully myself is simply meeting myself and others in the Now.

#words

[michoupitchou]

In Love

Peeling the layers of me. The feelings flowing. Wanting. Longing. Attachment and detachment at the same time. A beautiful desire for life, for love. For giving. For receiving. All that there is. To channel the universe’s desire for me and all beings. To be now what we are. Love. For and with everything. My intention. No other than this pure love, flowing through me. All the layers that is me. All the beauty that is me. All the love that is me. The mountains of tears and sweat that is me. The infinite bliss that is me. Pouring my soul into every action, word, movement, smile. Connecting to the very essence of everything that is you. Of everything that is we.

[michoupitchou]

The void

It's day one again and I feel the void. Emptiness presents itself to me today in the form of time, or the illusion of it. I have time. The beauty of the light and the leaves remind me of the empty space between everything. A space filled with light. Can light fill the void? How do we transform emptiness when there is nothing to fill it with? Is the void truly empty? What is fullness? Can that also be empty of meaning?

We create our reality through the choices we make. The meaning we attach to our actions and thoughts. How we feel is often overridden by our societal tendency not to feel. Blocked feelings cause our latent anxiety, which we feel. But the choice, here, is to go back to the actual feeling. Fear. Grief. It's not easy to feel. Even desire, pleasure sometimes, can be outside of the narrow spectrum we allow ourselves to feel freely.

Freedom. What an outstanding, beautiful concept. Freedom to choose. Freedom to feel. Freedom to choose what we feel… Maybe not always but overall. Freedom to make the choices that lead us to feel the way we want to feel.

Free. Ease is beautiful. Ease comes from a balance of flow and drive. Or maybe flow is the result of balancing with intuition.

There's never a better moment than now. But we often, sometimes, once in a while, forget the now. The past and future are compelling faux-friends. Past says, “I thought I knew”, and future says “I wish I knew”. But the moment knows. The present will never lie. We need to listen. It's not always easy, but it can become more so.

Things we think we should do don't have to rule our lives. Really, there is nothing we should do. There are things we want to do. There are things we will do, eventually. There are things we will never do. And these are simply not meant to be.

We create reality in our tiny little head. And sometimes we make it happen. We make it spark into consciousness, or reality, or everything. What we should do is a burden heavier than any other.

At the end, there is only what we've done. And even that will eventually be gone.

[michoupitchou]

Of echo and ego

I’m crashing.

Seeing ourselves in the vulnerable places is hard. Not always on top. Not the best.

I’m not the best equals I’m not good and some way. I know it’s not true but the vulnerable part doesn’t.

I want to be witnessed in process, watched in the tender emotions. I have the space of my relationship and I’m starting to have more relationships where this or these parts can express.

Why be seen? Why share? This is my gift.

To myself from the universe, and to the universe from… Myself? It’s all the same. It comes from the same place, from source.

When you make art, it doesn’t come from ego. The showing could end up egoic, but the art itself, the art that touches the soul of other being, is ego-less.

Because ego doesn’t touch the soul, it touches only ego. Like an echo chamber where the sound reverberates, amplifies.

Ego touching ego amplifies ego.

Our souls only echo truth. So we really ought to listen. Even if the voice is faint. It gets lost, but we can be found again.

[michoupitchou]

Writing

Writting? Writing what? I can’t even write writing. Writing, written. That’s why I get confused… English.

Should I write a film?

What is a film?

What is a should?

What is a writer?

Who am I? Am I wright?

A writer is me only if I write.

A writer. What does it mean, to me?

Writing. Am I right to write?

Righting is cool.

Writing is cool.

It’s hard. Writing for a living is hard, I heard. In my head.

Was it only ever in my head?

My body writes something and my mind hears something else.

What am I writing?

Writing is cool, except when it’s not. Maybe it’s cool even when it isn’t, but for different reasons.

My ego likes writing. It’s a concept, an idea. “I am good at it”. What does that all mean?

What is an “I”, a “good “, an “it”. An “am“?

« Âme », in French, is “soul“.

How close are we to our soul when we say “I am“.

“I am“ a conscience.

“I am” sad. No, you’re not, you “feel“ sad… But you are much more than “sad”.

“I am“ a writer… That and everything else… You write, you write!

Ha! Here’s the voice. I’ve been waiting for it to show just so I can soothe it a bit.

It thinks I am farting higher than my ass… as we say…

I don’t know… I just got sidetracked. The flow… Interrupted.

Higher. Grandeur… I’m not sure. The mind plays tricks all the time, that’s what it does. It wants you to do the safe thing. Count your money, double check your retirement account, get that refund. Greed? Fear…

My mind is afraid, but I love it. I can do it… With a little help from my friends. Writing is pleasant. Seeing the words, the shape they make. I won’t get as much pleasure out of typing. That’s maybe why I don’t do it as much. Maybe I’m not a writer…

Do you have to type your manuscript to be a writer? Maybe I could just speech-to-text it. It used to be called dictation. Writing – reading. Two sides of the coin.

I write – you read?

[michoupitchou]

East

East of your dream, you’ll find the shadow of your soul.

A compass wouldn’t fully get you there. At dusk, go toward the shadow, not the light. Why?

Chasing is a pointless activity. Do you remember the tortoise and the hare? Who wins? The part of the story that is not told is the direction they are going.

What's the “point”? You need to leave on time, yes, but what if you’re already late?

At dusk, go East. You’ll be early meeting the light rather than late chasing it.

“Seize the day”... But what about the night?

At dusk, go East, seize the night, enter the darkness of your soul.

What is the “point”?

The “point”, through the night, is in finding the light.

[michoupitchou]

Upload/Download

Tick toc. Time flies... So slowly... When you’re uploading.

The time spent in active contribution is rarely seen as a positive interaction, especially on the internet.

But what about life? If you’ve never had a download, you’d better try that shit: it’s good, man!

No, seriously, downloads can be received by anybody who makes themselves available to receive them. 

But what about uploads? Oh, man, these are hard. If a download is a divine pouring into your consciousness, how can you reverse the exchange and pour your soul’s insights into the divine collective consciousness?

It takes balls, and I’m not talking about crystal balls here. It takes courage and persistence and resilience and love and trust in the universe.

Who does that anyway? Artists, connectors, contributors to the world understanding itself a little bit more every minute, every second, with the next google search. Singers, actors, authors, bloggers, poets, painters, performers, sculptors.

You think their work is easy? Honestly, the making probably is for them at some point, but the sharing? Yeah, that’s what I mean by upload: to have the drive, the courage, the vulnerability, the strength, the humility, the pride to share your work with the world; to push through all the rejection or judgement you might encounter (probably coming primarily from yourself) and still offer your gift.

Why not? The real question is Why? What is the point? Why would you dedicate your life to converting divine downloads into shareable uploads? Tough question.

But without the answer, you might never find the drive, the courage, the vulnerability, the strength, the humility, the pride that it takes to share the gift that you are honored to have been gifted by the Gods.

[michoupitchou]

Baby, one more time.

You’ve heard the song right? It’s kinda dumb, but it’s the story of teenage humanity.

One more time, the pattern. Have you ever noticed that? Sounds familiar, in a different situation. You were recreating the trauma, the dynamic, the whatever... Aaaaaaaaah!

At least, you’re aware of it.

One more time, always the same creep knocking on your door. Why do you answer the door? One time, two times, three times... So many times you can’t count them anymore.

The door is the secret. It’s your boundary. Next time the creep rings the bell, pretend you’re not home. He won’t come back again. Nobody has time to waste. And that includes you, too.

One more time, and you won’t be a baby anymore.

The broken pattern of your dreams can unleash your next reality.

[michoupitchou]

What happened to me?

What happened to me? When did I become an adult?

I’m going to visit houses to buy this afternoon, and I received my retirement report a few days ago.

Cool your jets, life, I’m only 35... Only... Life doesn’t stop... The decay has started. It started a long time ago, and we might as well make the best out of it.

My artistic tank needs to be refueled... Just sparse downloads... Barely a few uploads here and there. But that’s the teaching, I am told.

I love it. Everything. I love life. I love love. But do I truly love myself? All of myself? That’s what it truly means to become an adult. You come to peace with all parts of your self, or, at least, most parts of yourself.

Full integration, I’m afraid, might only truly be found at death.

[michoupitchou]

Banging on the door

Banging on my door, the fear.

"It’s not ok to just be! Why can’t you clearly understand that suffering needs to happen in order for order to reign?”

Bullshit. Life can quiet of banging on the door noises. It just doesn’t happen all at once.

The silence must be nurtured. Silence in your mind, silence in your soul. A calling is hardly something grand. It is merely an impression made by the generations of karma you’ve been through.

If only quiet was easy. It’s not and that’s the point of life. Not to muffle, but to gradually call in the silence.

You can’t silence the silence. I mean, seriously, think about it for a moment. When it’s there, it’s There. When you are with it here, now, you are silence. The essence of quiet is expressed through you. You might also be “silent” at that moment but that would just be an added bonus.

The actor on a stage can be silence as he shouts the most heart wrenching line. If there is nothing else that exists for you but the moment, you are the essence of silence.

Silence is a playground. The heart expands playing in silence. Not the physical heart of course, your lungs might not appreciate it, but the energetic heart. The Heart can expand to soothe an entire person, the entire world. Think about it for a moment and even your self could expand.

Yourself is nothing, but the sound of silence is everything. It disappears behind the self at times. “What if I let that be? Everything would collapse right?” Think of an earthquake. All that remains after it happens is what was deeply rooted.

Silence is deeply rooted in you. It was here before you, and it will be here after you.

Silence will remain after the earthquake of life has happened to you.

[michoupitchou]

On Doing

The sum total of your actions = the character

If that is valid for a play, what about life?

If I do many different things, am I many different people? If getting lost is the essence of Being, do you find yourself when you do? Maybe doing and the Self are not that bad onto themselves--just not the whole picture.

If you do [...], then you are [...].

The definition of who we are as a Self is pretty straightforward. Is there something similar for the Soul? Maybe not, if we are Everything.

The whole of the universe might be the hole of the Self. Where the Self disappears, you can see the Soul. Not a practical definition, but it’s a pretty visual metaphore.

Metaphorically, we’re not really allowed to be. We’re set in action way too soon, almost immediately, never to stop. Sleeping well is almost an achievement in itself given all the noise.

The noise of your Soul is silence. Best of luck giving it a voice.

[michoupitchou]

About Failure

Today, I realized that the people I care about will still love me if I fail.

The people I care about don’t really care if I succeed. If I was looking for proof, I would look at how much I care if they do. I care to the extent that it affects me. I care that they function and sustain themselves autonomously. But beyond that? I don’t really care what they do.

Today, the day I realized I could fail, I will try. I will try something different, criticizable, imperfect, rough, and “not in my field”.

What if I just tried? I could fail. But if they will love me even if I do, then why can’t I love myself through that too?

Maybe I will. Maybe I will no hold such crazy standards for myself. Maybe I will see what happens if I try.

I have tried a lot in my life. I’m still trying to understand that my ego will never be satisfied by external events. My ego just needs love. Then it can step aside and play.

What if? What if we may?

[michoupitchou]

Seeking to be understood

By seeking only to be understood, as a visionary, an artist or an individual, you are setting yourself up for failure.

Look at your motives. Why do you want to be understood? My wild guess is that all you want is really to be loved.

Love yourself. First and foremost. Then spread your wings and conquer the hearts of the ones you wish to love you in return.

I know, love is hardly a two-way road. It’s closer in shape to a yarn ball that has been tidied by a cat.

But to love yourself first, and then set yourself to touch the souls of your audience, your fans, your loved ones, your friends, enables you to seek connection instead.

To connect is the key. Touch, inspire, reflect the light back. Understand first, and maybe you will be understood.

[michoupitchou]

Listen

When in doubt, just listen. Your soul has a lot to say. Little things, and big things.

Listen to what your soul has in store for you.

“In a few years, you’ll be ready.”

You’ll never be ready, so listen to your soul, It will tell you exactly what to do.

With the new arrivals comes confusion. What now?

When in doubt, listen to your soul.

The fashion of your psyche is flashy. It moves a lot of air. Feel the kick of adrenaline when it causes jealousy around you? Your soul has nothing to do with that. What’s less, it gets forgotten in the sea of distraction.

If only you could see it, it would be proof. Your divine nature shining light. But it takes a different set of eyes.

To see the soul, you need to closes your eyes. Preferably at least twice a day. Dream asleep, and dream awake.

Your soul is right there, ready to be found.

[michoupitchou]

Words

Words are the music of the Soul. Listen to them. Listen to them bouncing in your head. Maybe paper can do you good. You, and everybody else.

The sharing of words is the music of Consciousness. Look at them. Look at them bouncing on the page. Maybe an editor can do you good. You and everybody else.