Parallel parking and the Wai Kru Ram Muay

Through an unexpected turn of events, my daughter and I ended up at a Muay Thai Wai Kru seminar today. Muay Thai is a form of pugilistic fighting originating in Thailand wherein participants use punches, kicks, knees, elbows, and trips from the clinch position to defeat one another. Wai Kru, more officially Wai Kru Ram Muay or ‘war dance saluting the teacher,’ is a ritual performed by Muay Thai fighters before a fight. This ritual is a way for the fighter to pay respect to the art, their teacher, and their opponent, and is intended to prepare the fighter for the fight. 

My day started with me attending a jiu-jitsu class with my daughter who played with her cousins while I trained. After my class was over, we were supposed to go somewhere, but before we left, I found out that plans had changed and our presence was no longer required. My wife was sightseeing in Washington DC with her family who is visiting from Washington state, so my daughter and my schedule suddenly opened up. 

As we were leaving the academy, some Muay Thai folks came in and I remembered that there was a seminar today intended to raise money for the girl who was teaching it to fight overseas. My daughter’s cousins were all attending the seminar since they all do Muay Thai and my brother was hosting the event, so I asked my daugher if she wanted to participate also and she said yes. 

The seminar went well and the kids all learned how to do the Wai Kru. At the end, they asked for volunteers to demonstrate what they had all learned, which was a complex series of movements that takes several minutes to perform. My daughter immediately raised her hand. 

A space was made in the middle of the room and my daughter was called out. With a little bit of help, she demonstrated the Wai Kru as everyone watched. They gave her a round of applause and then every kid, one by one, demonstrated to the group what they had learned. After the seminar ended, everyone sparred for a while and then went to get ice cream. 

When we got home, my wife was excited to tell me how proud of herself she was for successfully parallel parking in DC and making it all the way to Eden Center, a giant Vietnamese shopping center in Northern Virginia, and back without getting lost. When my wife finished telling me about her day, my daughter said, “Mommy, I did something brave today too. When the coaches asked for volunteers to demonstrate the Wai Kru in front of the class, even though I was nervous, I raised my hand and I went first. When I was done, my cousin told me that I inspired her and that’s why she went second.” 

I simply smiled. It was a good day and a good reminder that courage manifests in many different forms. For one person, courage is parallel parking in the city or driving to a new place. For another person, courage is raising their hand and stepping up in front of a crowd. We are all scared of something. It is our ability to take action in spite of that fear that makes us brave. Also, bravery is contagious. 

I am terrified of my creative voice

I am terrified of my creative voice. It frightens me because it sounds a lot like my pain. 

I am hesitant to enter that place inside of me because I am afraid of what I will find, I am afraid of what will come out, and I am afraid that I will not be able to leave once I enter. 

I dance around this fear and I do good work, but it isn’t my work, not in the truest sense because it is impersonal. What is personal is the pain, the grief, the anger, and the shame, but I am afraid to go there. 

I want my art to be uplifting, I want to make a positive impact, and I want to make people happy, but I also need to dig deeper. I need to dive into the pain. I need to unearth the lessons it wants to give me. I need to not be afraid of what I will find because all I will find is the truth. 

I am still searching for my creative voice because it exists on the other side of fear and I have not yet gone there. I have not yet become truly vulnerable, and there is no art without vulnerability. 

Even this is merely writing around the truth, not diving into it headfirst without hesitation. Even this is a form of hiding. This is me avoiding the real work. 

This is not my creative voice. This is something else. 

Sound like yourself

My favorite bands don’t sound like anyone else. They sound like themselves. 

The music I like the most, the first time I heard it, I wasn’t so sure. Nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for it. It was unusual, somewhat foreign, and sometimes even quite jarring. 

Sometimes it took me a while to settle into it, to get comfortable with it, and to hear the beauty and the truth in it. 

That’s the thing about new ideas. In the beginning, they have no audience. They can’t have an audience because they are new. They haven’t been heard or experienced before. 

It’s difficult to relate to new ideas. Something about them feels off. They make us uncomfortable. But if they are true and we give them a chance, they will change us. 

Music changed me. A thousand times over, it turned my inner life upside down and transformed me into someone new, someone I would and could never be if I hadn’t experienced it. 

I can say the same about books, paintings, films, poems, and even certain meals. 

When someone creates something, and they do so with love, truth, and conviction, it is transformative. It has the power to change the lives of those who experience it.

This is why it is so important to share your art. Even if it is nothing special to you, if it comes from your heart, if you mean it, and it is uniquely your own, you never know who will be moved by it. 

Remember, the best music doesn’t sound like something else. It sounds like itself, like the person or people who created it. For this reason, the best art is a courageous act. 

So act bravely and make art that sounds like you. We may not understand it at first, but we may come to thank you for it later. 

Your creative voice

The only way to find your creative voice is to use it. If you want to be a better writer, write more. If you want to be a better painter, paint more. If you want to be a better chef, cook more. 

But you can’t stop there. You have to share your work. Put it in the world. Let people interact with it. There is only so much you can do to refine your creative skills in isolation. 

Art needs to be seen, heard, and felt. It needs to be experienced. 

In order for you to find your creative voice, your voice must be heard by others. 

Make your art. Share your art. Put it into the world and see what comes back. Do this over and over again and you will find that you are changed. 

You begin to be more like yourself. Your work starts to feel more like your own. You discover that what you have to say is worth saying and that you are the only one uniquely qualified to say what you have to say in the way that only you can say it. 

If you want to find your creative voice, you will have to be brave. You will have to risk being ignored, misheard, or misunderstood, and you will have to speak up anyway. Speak up through your art. Say what you have to say loudly and persistently enough that you cannot be ignored. 

Finding creative freedom

As creatives, we don’t get to decide what of our work will resonate with others and what will fall flat. There is no way of knowing which pieces will find an audience and which will die a quiet, lonely death. Create anyway. Share your work anyway. Create some more.

As people who are called to creative work, our joy and satisfaction must come from the creative process itself or we will find ourselves disappointed and frustrated when our work doesn’t get the response we desire. We have no control over the response to our work. All we can do is create and share. The rest is out of our hands.

The audience gets to determine whether or not they find value in our work, but their response can’t be our focus or we will create fearfully. When we create in anticipation of a response, it changes the way we create. It holds us back and stifles our true voice.

The only way to do work that matters is to create it without the audience in mind. What they do with our work is none of our business. Focus only on listening to your inner voice. Create that which your inner voice begs you to get out.

Listen for where the fear and discomfort is, and lean into that space. The work you are most afraid to do, that part of you that you are most afraid to share, that is where your best work will be found because that is the work that only you can do.

Create from where you are most vulnerable and tender. Share that part of yourself that you fear most being rejected for. This is you. This is your work.

As you create and share, your work will evolve and change, and you will evolve and change through the process. You may never become fearless, but through the process of creating and sharing bravely, you will begin to fear less. You will find a new kind of freedom.