By Jennifer Grant
One
of my closest friends is a college theater professor. A few weeks ago,
he told me about an acting exercise he uses with his students. It is a
"clowning exercise," my friend Mark said. The lesson starts with
students identifying a character trait - something specific that they
either like or dislike about themselves - and thinking about how they
could exaggerate it. That trait would become the focus of the exercise.
A
student, for instance, who is overweight or brainy or known to be
chatty could choose to embellish one of those traits. My friend tasks
his students with writing a short narrative that shows their characters
struggling with a now-outsized flaw and then, somehow, addressing it.
Last, they present short, three-minute performances during which they
must wear a red clown nose.
The
talkative student might, for example, come onstage in that red nose
prattling away. He then might eat a drippy triple-decker ice cream cone
or catch marshmallows in his mouth to quiet himself.
The
exercise isn't meant to humiliate or shame the students, but to free
them from the firm grasp of their inhibitions and the way they
ruthlessly judge themselves. Not only exposing, but also truly
exaggerating and poking fun at their imperfections, frees students from
the power that those flaws hold over them. They no longer fear others'
judgment or being found out. They find strength in exposing their
weaknesses.
When
I look at my own life and what flaws have shamed me or held me back, my
fears and failings as a mother flood my mind. I remember the countless
times as a young mom when I had wildly unrealistic expectations for
myself and for my children. The way I desperately hoped I'd somehow be
able to raise my kids without ever letting them down. The fact that I
believed that if I just focused on the fruits of the spirit hard
enough, or if I were just spiritually-grounded enough, I'd never lose my
temper or misunderstand my kids.
I
used to conceal these secret longings to be a perfect mom as well as my
shortcomings, but now they comprise the very stories that fill the
pages of my books. I write about my parenting journey with its moments
of doubt, insecurity, and imperfections. And, yes, sometimes I feel like
one of those students on stage, battling embarrassment and inhibition
as I clown my most dreaded or secret faults, exaggerating them, opening
myself up to criticism or ridicule. At some moments, I am left feeling
vulnerable and exposed.
But I'm the better for it.
Because
I keep donning that proverbial red foam nose, I take myself less
seriously. Increasingly, I look to God, and not to my readers or to
other people, for acknowledgment and relationship.
Author Shane Claiborne says one of his favorite prayers is: "God,
forgive me for thinking too highly of myself. God, forgive me for
thinking too lowly of myself. God, forgive me for thinking of myself so
stinkin' much." By exposing what is most flawed about myself, I think
about myself less and take myself less seriously. And in exposing my
weaknesses, I find strength from a God who loves me as I am.
Jennifer
Grant is the author of two books: Love
You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter
(2011) and the recently
released MOMumental:
Adventures in the Messy Art of Raising a Family. Find her online at jennifergrant.com.
I realy liked this article. This is a great idea for any Celebrate Recovery group. I am a professional clown and that truely is my way of acting out my fustration and stress from my job.
ReplyDeleteI am praying God will reveal more ways of facing up to my hurt habits and hang ups thru my clowning, so it will help others do the same.
Thank You!