Express Yourself!

The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but is, rather,

the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.

– Glenn Gould

In college, I had to be videotaped while conducting an interview, and I was overly petrified. I had been raised to be seen and not heard and was far too comfortable with that. Surprisingly, when we watched the videos back, the professor used mine as the best example of calm composure. While others sang my praises, I was consumed by just how big of a difference there was between looking cool and collected from the outside and the flood of turmoil swirling around on the inside of me. It is ironic that I now find myself encouraging people to express themselves when I have mastered the art of suppressing so much, so very well. However, I have seen and felt the crushing effects of what repeated repression can do to a soul, both personally and in my working life. 

My first job out of college was working from 11pm-9am in a treatment center for “wayward” girls. Although my job description was centered on getting the laundry done, I found out soon enough that I was really on nightmare watch for teens who could only face their realities when they were unconscious. Through them, I learned to pay attention to what was buried deep inside, longing for a way out. It was there I first discovered that creativity lives in our dreams as our minds use sleep to sort through the endless dilemmas we face and that even in our nightmares, there are glimmers of a universal propensity to heal. No wonder so many great works of art center on the dream world.

I went on to work with young kids who were considered emotionally disturbed. One was suspended over an overpass as punishment, another was so paralyzed with fear he couldn’t move or speak in public, one had been so neglected in her crib that her eyes and head were misshapen, one only knew violence and was homicidal, another suicidal, to name only a few of their challenges. I saw firsthand how deep disturbances can sometimes be normal reactions to crazy circumstances. Some were not even speaking yet, so their trauma had to be addressed on a nonverbal level. The arts became essential to open their hearts to the harsh realities they were forced to face at no fault of their own. It was too hard to bear the starkness of their problems without something to put their hands deep into to ease them toward healing. Art therapy became the means for finding them just the right medium. I spent more time up to my elbows in playdoh, paint, bubbles, and mud trying to see a spark go off in their eyes. Some needed healing words, some needed color, texture, music, movement, to be building things, speaking the truth, crafting…or some other creative endeavor or combination thereof. It was a momentous day when the boy who couldn’t move finally tilted his head enough to make the block I’d placed there fall off. Over time, he used blocks to build and build his way back into the world. Every time a creative spark is ignited and something “speaks” to us, there is a reason we might not even be able to articulate. It isn’t always just in the service of healing, but part of the natural wonder of creativity with its amazing healing effects, like spreading aloe vera all over what ails you. Let’s face it, even Hallmark movies have the repeated plot of repressed and unhappy people finally doing what they knew all along they wanted to but just couldn’t express.

It’s no surprise that poetry and lyrics were where I started taking baby steps toward expressing myself since they allowed a little distance between me and my own vulnerability. Creativity was a safe buffer for beginning to turn myself inside out. And for someone of few words, playing with words seemed like the best elixir for me.

...creativity is a gift to the creator, not just a gift to [an] audience…

–Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

Unfortunately, we can see all around us the havoc repression is wrecking on the world way beyond Hallmark. We are constantly looking for why mass shootings occur, why people are arming and/or harming themselves, and why mental illness and isolation are on the rise. Perhaps we are getting too good at denial. I am not saying we all should be enraged, but I am saying that we are all capable of heartbreak and despair in the right circumstances, and they can be instantly thrust upon us at no fault of our own. And it can become much worse by not finding an outlet for expressing our despair. Think of the Ukrainian people and how so many of their lives were shattered instantly. Many became refugees from one minute to the next. We are all vulnerable. We are all capable of repressing things, especially those we don’t dare utter or expose, atrocities we just as soon leave buried in the rubble.

Thanks for Bricks 

thanks for bricks that hold the sun’s rays to 

warm backs even while the concrete

sidewalk freezes beneath them

thanks for those who let their mouths bend 

into smiles though their 

bodies can’t comply

thanks for clouds that provide a place for mist

to huddle until drops form to fall 

and quench a dry earth

thanks for empty riverbanks and holes to 

cradle water that wants to seep 

into every crack

thanks for safe refuge from hate, weather,

gaslighting, cold, judgment, corruption,

hunger, superiority, and all the rest

thanks for the reminder that we are refugees,

all, each waiting our turn

at safety

dpd

I was afraid to open up because I didn’t know how to handle conflict. If I didn’t trust myself with my anger, I certainly couldn’t trust others. But I also saw that there was no healing or forgiveness without it. That little boy who’d been held over the overpass would often lose control and I’d find myself needing to restrain him so he wouldn’t hurt something. The restraint involved putting my legs out in a V and sitting behind him, holding his arms across his chest until he calmed down. Sometimes I’d have to even gently lay one on my legs over his. Over time I understood that this was his chance to work out his rage safely. I took to talking in his ear as he struggled, letting him know it was okay to be angry, that he had some good reasons to be, and that I wouldn’t let him hurt himself or anyone while he let it out. There even came a time when he’d seek out that spot when he was calm and we’d rock back and forth, both of us holding ourselves and each other at the same time. He taught me a lot about how to get to the other side of anger so that healing, if not forgiveness, might someday be possible.    

Forgiveness I

Don’t you ever let anyone tell you how to forgive.

Go right ahead and hold on to those hurts until

they have taught you every single thing you need

to know. They’re yours and nobody tells you when

or where to let them go. Don’t let anyone say you 

will love yourself more if you drop them and then 

to hurry up and get along with things.

No. No, no. Forgiveness is letting your fury rise;

letting it rise up inside so high you can finally see

that it wasn’t all your fault. Anger is the sword

to scrape away denial letting the cold acceptance of

what has happened settle in your heart like a sunken 

ship. That is the only thing that will protect you from

saying ridiculous things like No problem or It’s no 

big deal or That’s fine…

excerpt from In Your Bones

Is simply expressing yourself the answer to all our traumas? Of course not! And we often can’t do it thoroughly or very well, all alone. There is no shame in using help to get there. There is also no shame in trusting ourselves more. But, we can do a lot of damage by stuffing it down and hiding it away. We are the only ones who know what creative spark we need to grow, heal, and truly be at peace. Whatever way we find to be who we are all the way through to our bones, our own truest divine expression will ultimately be the end result. It’s a lot messier than a Hallmark movie, but it has the potential to have an even more satisfying ending. 

And so, may we all find ways to express what is most unspeakable in our lives. May we learn how to offer support to ourselves and reach for help when we need it. May we see more of the pain that we or those around us carry, sometimes without even being aware of it. May we hold our children through both their spoken and unspoken heartaches. May we know when to let go. May we listen better.

Here’s to finding more ways to love ourselves better, and all those around us, on this spinning planet we share.