Healing Through Art

“The power of resisting limiting stories and embracing our ability to narrate our stories in ways that make us stronger.”

Healing through art demonstrates the power of being.  Art is the voice of your heart.  The artistic process creates a space where one can express…it helps us to see things in a different way, and allow us to be brave,  as it takes courage to do something in a way that hasn’t been done before. When my soul feels restless, art soothes the places inside that needs stillness, those areas that needs expression in ways that connects my brokenness to my soul where all is well. 

Some stories can box us in. When we cling to stories of betrayal, rejection, loss – single stories that define our lives – we become prisoners. We cannot choose what happens to us, neither the family, society or culture that we are born from…BUT Freedom is found in the way we tell our stories. We can always choose our perspective. We can always choose our how…We can ALWAYS resist the status quo. In this pencil drawing of a woman – the feeling of restriction, conforming, limiting, bowing down to a force of oppression is evident (Religion often evoke stories of conforming). The woman however, looks beyond these limiting stories (a NON-CONFORMIST).

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:2)

“Becoming Hope”

“Healing Spaces”

I started a sculpting class recently. I showed up with excitement, an expectation for whatever this might add to life, and a bit of anxiety – always anxiety…

I was reflecting on my mental process whilst going through the first process – simply using wire to create an inner framework that will hold it all together.

What I remember most is the safe space that allowed me to continue despite my frail ego that wanted to be good enough! This was created by a soft-hearted, amazing teacher. Sharing his art, but most of all, his heart. A humble “how can I serve you” spirit.

Secondly, the students I had the honor to share this class with. We do not know each other, but sculpting has a way of immediately telling your story. In a very short time, the pain of loss, honoring those we love, and the theme of relationships came to visit the room.

And with the raw emotion evident in all the sculptures, the safe space that allowed such wounding to be seen, honoured, and “normalised,” I could deconstruct my “anxiety” and the feeling of “not good enough”.

I have always called this feeling “anxiety,” and I have always linked it to a lack of confidence. But somehow, I have opened myself up to a different possibility.

The constructs of “anxiety” and “not good enough” do not tell the whole story. It is a very thin description of a brave story that somehow got lost in the narratives we so easily grab onto.

How brave to show up. How brave to jump in and create a very flimsy imperfect frame. How brave to say please help out. How brave to try, and how brave to take this creation home.

The sculpture you make is a living creation – one that you honour and never throw away or re-do. You work with what you have!

So, with a grateful heart, I took my wobbly wired structure home. Far from perfect, but I knew I could love this. I knew that it was created in such a loving, raw atmosphere by a brave woman who would not disregard the work of her hands. I will lovingly sit down with my creation and create the atmosphere that made it possible to start the process.

I now call my “anxiety”, how it feels to be brave, and “not good enough” bears a new name – showing up exactly as you are, raw, honest, open and loving it regardless.

Therapy creates spaces where truth is safe. The moment honesty surfaces, healing can begin. Brenè Brown’s research on shame and vulnerability sheds some light on the power of sharing our stories, not sugar coated, but radically honest and brave:

Shame dies when stories are shared in safe spaces

Woman at the well – the promise of water: The well built by online dating

The water I carry…

…from an empty water jar…
…then filled to the brim…
…only to find myself doing it all over again…
…day by day.

Tiring.

I walk without noticing my surroundings, too tired to care, too hurt to give a damn.

The clock is ticking, whilst I still have this face, this body, the ability to attract – I need to hustle girl… I have my list and standards, but find none of what I look for counts in this world.

it seems that photos and a fit body attract attention, but my heart is not valued.

I become bitter, thirsty and unhappy. I haven’t been unhappy for years…but hustling this way makes you feel you need to find that partner, and life as it is… has become not good enough.

I see Your watchful eyes on every move I make. Pleasing You God is yet another load to carry.

“I see you woman at the well, I feel you, I am you.”

I pray that You align my deepest needs with Your perfect plan again. My prayers are desperate, because this well is empty. Please Jesus let You be the only desire of my heart. And then a presence quenches my first instantly.

You see my heart. You see me. “El Roi,” I shout. “The God who sees me.”

Genesis 16:13, after she encounters God in the wilderness and expresses that she has “seen the one who sees me”.