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My Art Therapy Journey

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Some Struggles:

Paranoia/Fear

Shame

Embarrassment

Anger

Memory Lapses/Forgetfulness

Auto-Immune Disease/Chronic Pain

Body Image/Eating Issues

Some Miracles:

Breath/Life/I’m still here

Love

Friendships

Marriage

Children

Intellectual Understanding

Empathy

Hope

Grace

What if Light itself is a miracle?  What if all of everything is really a miracle?

Sometimes I get to thinking I have so many struggles, but to write them down makes them graspable.  I can narrow them down better that way.  Maybe sometimes the struggles list changes.  It can shrink or grow.  But the Miracles list is at least, I think, consistent.  The felt presence of miracles might wax and wane, but once they’ve made the list I think they are always there.  Miracles never diminish or go away.  And maybe struggles will always exist to some degree just because I am human, but when I run those struggles through the lens of a miracle that is always there to save me, I can trust they will be manageable.  To list it out takes away the emotion that can sometimes run away with my heart-my grounding and stability in this world.

I get thrown into tailspins, but today I will keep coming back to how many incredible crashes I have made it through.  If I focus on how the story has always eventually resolved, maybe I can eventually carry on from the end and skip the panic part.

 

There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.

Albert Einstein

I don’t know what to say.  For over 3 months I have not known what to say.  Coming here to write, I couldn’t even remember when the last time was.  I was scared to see where I was last time I was here.  I’ve only skimmed through my last post.  I saw mention of drugs and dependency several times.

It’s like a whole other world…those 3 months ago.  It was before I’d even officially turned 33. It was in another lifetime.

These days I think more and say a lot less.  I’m not sure if my therapist would agree with me on that statement, but it’s how it feels to me most of the time.  I’m starting to open.  It’s vulnerable and things change frequently within the span of one complete thought.  So to share a single thought is even more vulnerable.  The moment a thought breathes it’s like it’s written for eternity.  It becomes like a statue.  Now that I’m breaking out of that frozen place it scares me to go back.

 

I’m still into my art.  I haven’t painted for many, many months, but I have been active with clay and ceramics.  I have tables and shelves full of half-finished work to show for it.  Some is still in the form of hardened, dry mud that might some day become cups, bowls, and plates.  Some have seen the fire once and are more solid, but still in question about what their last role will be.  They are raw.  No glaze, no color, skeletons still.  But most of what I have is probably still in my heart and mind.

 

Two of my ceramic sculpture projects are on display at school that I made for class last semester.  I don’t know what to say about those even.  I can never seem to talk about my art much, but if you get me going I could talk about the impact of art and what it means to me for hours.  But right now it’s all a little airy.

Not empty air though.  More airy…like God.  A definite, invisibly visible shape.

It’s the shape my life seems to taking.  I look more, or at least more closely.  I wait before making judgments and tend to keep my judgments (about people, places or things seen or unseen) open.  It’s because I realize I know so little with certainty.  And how can I possibly judge another person’s heart when so many people in this world seem to not even know their own heart they live so near everyday? It keeps me open to others and focused on getting familiar with myself.

I’ll tell you, this isn’t always a pleasant endeavor for me.  Did you know there are feelings in your heart?  Real, complex feelings.  I didn’t used to know this.  My conscious being existed separate from my breath.  I was living a divided existence and calling it “Me,” and I thought and believed this Me was all I had.

It was never everything.

A shock.

A revelation.

A death and a new life.

 

For myself, several new lives.  I’m beginning to see how I cut myself off, one at a time or perhaps many at a time throughout my years on this earth-all 33 of them.

 

I keep coming back to how I used to know so much.

It makes me laugh now.

 

Sometimes I’ll laugh at something like that and sit in curious wonderment for hours in my mind, even when life is busy taking care of business with motherhood and family.  My mind simmers on how I knew things and how unwell I know those same things now.

Funny, isn’t it?

God, so funny.