A couple of weeks ago, I was hired for my henna services by a client from Dubai for the 2009 World Diabetes Congress which was being held in Montreal. But a few weeks before I actually got the henna gig confirmed, there had already been an unbelievable amount of emails going back and forth between myself, the event organizers and the client who was hoping to find — amongst other things — , someone who looked Arabic, someone who was willing to wear the traditional Arabic costume (including the veil!), someone who could speak Arabic, who would accept to NOT give her business cards during the event or mention her website or do any kind of PR. And of course, someone who was willing to work for peanuts!
I was prepared to wear the traditional costume and learn a few Arabic words, but I would not accept to work for peanuts! They had to pay my full fee or nothing at all. At some point, there was so much back and forth going on from the Dubai client that I decided to just let things play out. If I did get the gig, great. If I didn’t, then so be it. There really wasn’t anything more I could do.I finally got an email from the event organizer confirming I was hired. I was happy, but a few days before the event, I started to feel a slight wave of rebellion stirring as I thought about all the restrictions I had to conform to. I’m not much of a sucker for conformity or restrictions!! But now I had a job to do and I had to find a way to show up with rising enthusiasm instead of artistic disobedience. I needed an intention I could evoke so that I could carry myself and my art with openness and generosity. I decided it would be “to truly serve with my talent”.
Once my intention was clear, it wasn’t about making a good impression on the Dubai client or the event organizers, or even about the amount of money I was going to make. It was about serving each person who was going to sit in front of me and ask that I create something beautiful for them.
That intention made all the difference. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t give my business card directly to whoever asked, or that I was covered from head to toe with a black dress that was neither my size or my style! It also didn’t matter that I didn’t speak Arabic. People came from everywhere: Italy, Bolivia, Iran, Argentina, US, Turkey, India, etc! They sat in my booth, gave me their hand and let me do one of the things I do best: create beautiful henna. I became a front row receiver of all their — in various degrees of broken English —, “I’m so excited to get a henna!”, “Thank you so much!”, “It’s so beautiful!”, “You are a real artist!” I felt their joy and delight and was touched by their true appreciation and gratitude.
On the last day of that henna gig, I got back home tired, but happy. The event was over and I had given all I could give. And I suddenly realized just how much more I had gotten in return.
