Acknowledging mental pain and allowing yourself to feel it is a key to healing
Not everyone wants to know why something was created, I’m just pleased that you want to see my paintings. So if you prefer no spoiler alert, stop reading now and thank you, I appreciate you. But if you want to know more about the art I’ve created in recent years, there is a story behind it. The point of sharing the story is the hope to reassure that there is a way to overcome big things that life throws at us.
I’m an introvert, attuned to the energy of others, sensitive. I’m glad that’s me, but social events used to be a challenge I often dreaded. I’d be all in my head about what the right things to say and do were. I learned a lesson in the last few years that helped me feel comfortable in social settings. The secret was to turn the focus off of myself and onto other people. Maybe everyone already knows this but I didn’t! Instead of worrying about how I was coming across to them, I gave them the attention. I stopped trying to have a dual conversation with both them and myself. It took some practice, but after a while, it became natural, and it’s now a wonderful freedom to feel open and excited to meet someone new or look forward to being with people.
That lesson was a fabulous side benefit of therapy I was doing for trauma from a violent crime. It was a horrible, life-threatening crime, the kind we all fear in our worst nightmares. I’d had cognitive behavioural therapy at the time, but was still getting a rollercoaster-like adrenalin shot of fear on a daily basis. I learned later that my body was addicted to the ride of the rollercoaster and that my mind was giving me an internal dialogue that supported the addiction. The good news is that I found a therapist who took a different approach that really worked for me. It doesn’t hold any power over me anymore and has been transmuted into a force for good.
Let me assure you that I can say today that the crime was my biggest opportunity to learn and my greatest teacher. The story shocks people, I don’t want to scare, but what I want you to know, is that during the crime I thought I was likely going to die. I went into a space where I felt I wasn’t in my actual body but observing from above and that’s how I know that our true self is always somewhere safe. I was protected in that moment. Part of me was in the threat and part of me wasn’t. Even before, earlier in the event, time stood still and my separate self had time to think and say ‘oh this is what it’s like’ in a slowed down reality that coexisted with a much faster reality. My soul, my true self, was separated from my body in the event. We’re all going to be ok, is the point of me telling you this, our true self, is already ok - this is why I believe in energy so strongly.
Along the way, I learned I’m not my thoughts. My authentic self is not the same as the thoughts that say things, in everyday life, like ‘I’m never going to get over this’, ‘life is too hard', or ‘I’m not good at this’. That voice, the ego, is there to protect me by trying to get me to avoid things that make me feel pain. 'It might say something like ‘just don't think about it, don’t go there’. It’s both protective and a saboteur to my true self. It makes up all kinds of scenarios masquerading as my thoughts, and I then sometimes make the mistake of believing I am the thoughts. It’s a game of hide and seek, so it's relieving when the awareness comes back and I remember that the thoughts aren’t the real me.
I needed to understand the vulnerability that we all have as humans. It’s based on fear. Fear of losing those we love, of letting them down somehow. Not having thought of everything, making a mistake that has serious consequences. The vulnerability that some things are beyond our control. Fear of rejection being another way of losing them. Then, a feeling that there could be infinite ways they could be lost.
The pain we all want to avoid is human pain. I’ve come to an understanding that the pain doesn’t mean something is wrong. It’s not there as a warning to do anything. It’s the way it’s supposed to be. The human experience comes with pain. It’s a clue that can prove helpful as insight into something that might want a bit of attention. Rather than try to block it, what helps is to acknowledge it, literally with a compassionate ‘hello there you are again’. Accepting it instead of fighting it seems to soften the sharpness, and it helps to know that we all have it. If we acknowledge it, it’s possible to turn trauma into a positive power for wellbeing.
What I’ve learned from therapy is so special to me; it’s a rich mine to draw inspiration from. It applies to the collective. Every soul on the planet is part of the collective, and each is as valuable as the next. Everyone struggles with this human pain throughout their lives; everyone has trauma. Thank goodness that it’s balanced with fun and joy, great things about life; there’s always the other side of the coin. When we can be our true selves, we can see both sides. When we get depressed, at that time, we can only see one side of the coin. Our true selves operate not out of fear but from a place of love. It seems the game of hide and seek goes on though, we’re human and can’t help getting lost sometimes. But the true self can never be damaged or hurt and remains whole and safe always.
The examples above are two kinds of the energy I’m hoping to convey. I’ve explained it as best I can in words but it’s better explained in art. When we choose to look at art, we’re open and receptive, ready to be more imaginative than we tend to be in everyday life. In that way, the art can meld with our own unique thoughts and feelings in each persons own interpretation.
