Art and Freedom

I'm writing this post to let you in on a little secret: No one, not even therapists, have it all together. And guess what: that is how it's supposed to be because we are human. I think it's important to be honest about this. Society has a large expectation of us all to show how great things are and to appear that we are pretty much only happy all the time. I think this is the root of why we suffer so much. When we don't feel completely happy, we shame and blame ourselves for feeling or try not to feel whatever less pleasant emotion we are feeling. I think it's healthy to acknowledge all of our varying emotions and to remember that we are never alone in it. We are part of a whole human race that all feel these kinds of things too, often in silence. In lieu of recent suicides shared in the media, I want to make space for people to express themselves and to realize these feelings will pass and shift. Feelings aren't final, and they need to be normalized.

Here's a little blurb about my own discomforts and realizations along the way. When I am lost and struggling to find meaning in this twisting, sometimes chaotic life experience, I have to remind myself to return to art making. It's not always easy to express when doubt is creeping in and I feel like I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. The truth is, I do not know what I'm doing and no one does. I think we can feel like we have some control of some things in life, we can create stability but in reality there is something bigger happening and we are not in charge. Any time, I try to go against the current and fight what is, I get pushed back down and then, eventually I remember that all I have to do is to be, to simply go with the flow, the movement around me. I am a part of it. I am not different than all that is around me. I am connected to it and it is connected to me.

So last night, I began to make art after a decent period of not giving myself the space and time to make and be creative. I finally sat with myself and I felt something shifting, something alive waking up. I didn't really like what I made. It didn't feel like "good art" but it was raw and it was me. I went to the bathroom and noticed a little bug, actually a scarab beetle. This symbol of the Egyptian scarab beetle has held important meaning for me as a symbol of transformation and the creative intelligence and eternal force that lives within all of us. Seeing this little guy resting on a washcloth last night, felt like a message, a reminder that I'm not alone and I can trust who I am and what is happening. I still have nothing figured out and feel a bit twisty but I am reminded to remain present and continue to follow my intuition and trust where I am at without judgement and harshness. Basically, I am allowing myself to surrender, forgive myself for getting hooked, and to just let go. In that space, there is a freedom.