Brush and Sword

The newsletter by Sameer Sharma

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Issue #6

To Be Defeated By Ever Greater Things

There is beauty in the breakdown.

The Man Watching

This post was inspired by the poem, “The Man Watching”, by the Austrian poet and novelist, Rainer Maria Rilke. In his poem, Rilke promotes one's willingness to be defeated, dominated and shaped by forces larger than oneself. It is only through this constant, willful exposure to the harsh man handlings of life, can someone grow. Here is the last stanza of the poem…

Gifts of Faiure

When I look back at my greatest achievements, I realize that they were all preceded by my greatest defeats. At the time, it felt as if these defeats were permanent, unbearable and fatal. They seemed unfair; even criminal.

"Why is this happening to me?"

"What did I do wrong?"

"This is not what I planned!"

"This is not suppose to happen!"

"What do I do now?"

These questions always emerged from the aftermath of my defeats. They were like mushrooms that thrived in the dung heap of my self-pity, blame and resentment.

My younger self was a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted. What I didn’t realize was that I was being held by a benevolent, loving Force that was generous enough to indulge me in my self-pity. It gave me the space to struggle and resist until I exhausted myself into surrender. Only then did it guide me through and take me to places that I would never have gone on my own.

If you told the 20 year old me that I would one day be doing what I’m doing now and writing this article, he would have said, “No way! You’re crazy.” The 20 year old me would have been right had he not been shaped, forged and honed by Life’s hammer and chisel. The younger me was playing poker with Life. Back then, the cards did not seem stacked in my favor. "I see your hubris, and I raise you with heartbreak, financial loss, and a complete career change,’ Life seemed to say. I had no choice but to fold, and surrender all my chips.

Now, I’m scared to think were I would have ended up had I won those hands and not been continuously defeated by circumstances. Each heartbreak, failure, loss, and betrayal was both a loss and gain. At the time, I could only see the loss and the abyss of emptiness it left. Now, I can appreciate what I‘ve gained. My defeats are the bitter medicine I had to take to be cured of my sickness- thinking I can control Life.

The Dance of Shiva

In Hindu mythology, the god Shiva symbolizes destruction. Shiva is depicted dancing as the Nataraja or “lord of the dance”. Surrounded by a ring of fire (prabha mandala), Shiva dances with one foot raised and the other standing atop a demon. The demon, Apasmara, symbolizes ignorance. Shiva's dance, the Tandava, symbolizes the cosmic cycle of creation and destruction. This is Shiva’s divine way of destroying ignorance and illusion. Wisdom and knowledge emerge from its wake.

When I reflect on my defeats, I see Shiva gracing me with his dance. The demon Apasmara is my own ignorance. It needed to be destroyed by the defeats and losses gifted to me.

This helps me to redefine my defeats as resets-a wiping clean to start anew. This may seem like semantics. But this perspective helps to change how I respond once the dust settles. It cuts down the time I spend in regret. It allows me to accept what is in front of me.

"Kintsugi" Yourself

The Japanese art of Kintsugi is the art of mending broken pottery with gold. Kintsuge is based on the concept of Wabi Sabi. This is generally translated as, the beauty of imperfection. Rather than trying to hide the crack, Kintsugi transforms the imperfection by mending it with gold. It turns an otherwise generic, utilitarian commodity into a work of art.
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This aesthetic of Wabi Sabi has influenced my art and life. I wouldn't be doing what I am doing had I not been broken, mended and strengthened by my defeats. Our uniqueness comes as much from these defeats as our genetic makeup. The fracture line that breaks the pot is unique to that pot. And its mending will also be one of a kind. Without it, the gold would not have been applied to elevate it to a state of beauty. The breaking was the vital first step to its transformation.

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Kintsugi has helped me to appreciate my own defects. My self-acceptance has been the gold that I’ve applied to my own broken parts. The stress fractures are a record of who I was. The gold overlay of self-acceptance is who I’ve become. This is not easy. My instinct is to chastise myself for my failures. But, I realize that my self rejection is even more damaging than what broke me. I've learned to be kinder to myself, and make space for my hurt and pain.

The Chrysallis

The process of making art is a chrysalis, a cocoon in which the artist transforms as much as the work. In one sense, the artist is creating the art. But the real work of art is the person her or she becomes to bring the art forth. In this metamorphosis, there is the dismantling and destroying by an Intelligence far wiser than the artist. Every mistake I make when making my art is a small defeat. Yet, these defeats are the dorway to the flow state of absorptive presence. This state of flow, where the conscious mind becomes quiet and the brush moves across the canvas almost by itself, is this Intelligence at work. The artist is the brush, and It is the true artist.

For this Intelligence to work through me, a purging must occur. My practice is to trust and allow whatever is falling apart to go. My ability to stay in that dark gestation determines what emerges. Parts of me are dismantled and torn down. There is the part that clings to its past successes. There is the part that thinks it already know how to paint. There is the part that tries to predict the outcome. Finally, there is the most egregious part- the one that thinks it's not good enough. These parts are boulders that damn the river and prevent that state of flow. Writers call this, “writer’s block”. Artists soemtimes call this being abandoned by the muse. But, the only thing to abandon are those parts.

Animals know this by instinct. The snake seeks out the rough stone to rub against to shed its old skin. As an artist, each new blank canvas is the whetstone against which I wear down and hone the old me. The one who thinks he’s figured it all out. The one who thinks he’s in control. Before I put down the first mark, I always tell myself, “This could totally suck. And thats okay.” Ultimately, its not the art that matters, but who I become from making it. This becoming is an unselfing. It is a dismantling of those aformentioned parts of me that are in my own way. It is a surrender to the act of creation and its concurrent destructive forces. The art dismantles the artist and creates itself.

Becoming Antifragile

The term, “antifragile” was coined by the author, Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Taleb defines antifragility as the ability of systems and organisms to become stronger, more capable and adaptive when exposed to stress, volatility and failure.

My practice has shown me that when things are falling apart, the way to become antifragile is not to resist. I lose when I am unwilling to lose. Instead, I do my best to accept the defeat. This is not apathy, but rather an active surrender to Life. This requires far more strength than resisting.

I never imagined that I would be where I am today. I had a different life planned. Defeats have taught me to hold my dreams lightly. Before, I struggled to protect them at all costs. But Life pried them from my grip through an event or person that was the harbinger of growth through loss. Life always reminds me that my iron will is fragile crystal.

Acceptance is the key to antifragility. It frees me from my known prisons and exposes me to unknown freedoms. To be defeated is to be freed of the self that thinks it knows. Defeat reveals the illusion of control and the reality of this moment. Defeat creates a sense of aliveness an presence. When I'm knee deep in crisis and loss, I have no choice but to fully engage with all my senses. It's Life way of waking us up when we've gotten too comfortable and complacent.

Allow yourself to be dismantled, torn asunder, and reshaped. The pain of defeat is temporary. The gain in wisdom is lifelong. It is the sacrifice you make at the alter of your own growth. Rest in the wake of your defeats. Take inventory of all that was standing in the way of your becoming.

My defeats have been my greatest allies that appeared disguised as enemies. Defeat will always be my loyal companion. Yet, I'm still surpised when it appears. Before, I would ask, "Oh my God, how did this happen?" Now, I exclaim, "You're back! What do you have for me this time?"

Best,

Sameer