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| Lost |
I feel like the only thing holding me together this morning is routine. I’m not in touch with unexpressed emotion, anxiety, crippling fear or unstoppable passion. I’m really not in touch with much at all. I feel a bit numb. I’m walking through my morning doing the things I normally do on any other day. I tidy up the kitchen from last night, make a pot of tea, frisbee the dog, do a quick survey of the house to locate and move any misplaced things like remotes, pillows, throws, dog toys, mail, etc., to their proper place. I like to start the day in an uncluttered environment.
Now that I have my ‘clean canvas,’ what’s next? This is where the routine that held me together so far begins to break down. I don’t have a routine after I clear my space . . . This is where I usually exercise my creativity, and today I don’t seem to have much. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe I’m a little sad that all the excitement and energy I had around my son’s visit is over. Before he came I had a lot to do to prepare for his visit including creating a bedroom for him in my studio. While he was here I cooked as many of his favorite dishes as I could think of. We had a mini Thanksgiving, a mini Christmas morning, and a family birthday party. I spent as much time as I could with him, and it was a fabulous week. Now it’s ordinary life, rainy, chilly, and I feel flat.
What would happen if I didn’t have resistance to the way things are right now? What if I could be OK with being flat, feeling lifeless and a little sad? While that particular thought bubble is still hanging in the air above my head internal soldiers are taking up arms. They are poised to defend against the thought that I could be flat, sad, lifeless and perhaps a bit depressed. My guards are suddenly alert, “Can’t be!” I’m the always, ever, upbeat positive one. That’s my place. This is rich . . .
Two things are at work here;
1. I have a “cherished belief”* that I am someone who is always positive, optimistic, on the side of what’s possible, and never gives in to despair.
2. I have a position in the family dynamic that reflects my cherished belief . . . that people I love can depend on me to always be the stable, positive, energetic, caring one.
If I admit to how I really feel right now I change the dance. Everyone, including me, is going to have to deal with the loss of their dependable ‘sunshine.’ I have linked, no, fused, flat affect with defeat, failure. It doesn’t matter that I know this is irrational. I know it is not possible to maintain a positive, upbeat, creative, caring energy 24x7, 365 days a year. In saner moments I don’t even think that’s a healthy goal. The natural world thrives in large part because of the seasons. A global, eternal summer just couldn’t work, and it appears that’s what I strive for at all costs.
I’m clear on the origins of how this all got started in me. What I’m not so clear on is how to shift myself into a more realistic, wholesome internal platform that allows for physical and emotional down times. There’s very little room for that in me, and in the structure of my family. The depressed, low energy, non-functioning, negative attitude roles are fully occupied. I, without consideration, have volunteered to balance that out. Without request I have signed up to be the sunshine, the positive, high functioning one. By occupying this strongly held position in my family dynamic, I could very well be contributing to the cementing of everyone’s role.
If I accept my dispirited self in this moment we might all be depressed together, or someone else might choose to own a little territory in the sunshine spot. How would I feel if I were the one being carried energetically? Perhaps I feed on my capacity to be the one depended upon . . . get my self-esteem and pride, (ouch) from always, ever, being the source of light, joy, and hope for others. Do I feel better than them because of it? Ouch even more . . .
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| Drained |
I don’t like thinking of myself as someone in competition with others for being a more developed, conscious, ‘together’ human being. What if that’s a genuine piece of this drive? It would change the entire way I view who I am. And here, I didn’t think I had much to say this morning . . .
The truth is, I was born on the summer solstice, and I DO carry the sun in my soul. In the main I have a positive, optimistic outlook on life. That’s all very healthy, genuine me. However, the solstice isn’t a time of balance, it’s a time of extreme. The solstices are turning points at the fullness of the daylight, and the fullness of the night. I came into this world at the edge of the maximum capacity for light in our earthly position in our solar system. I am kin to sun, and light runs in my veins. I’ve always known this, and I now suspect I have taken a fair amount of pride in this fortuitous birth. Have I taken a good thing too far?
Maybe it isn’t all that easy for one born in an extreme to maintain balance. I can certainly point to a lot of evidence that would validate this hypothesis. I was determined to have 6 kids. Don’t question why at this moment, just accept it. I pursued pregnancy with vigor, birthed 4 children, endured 3 miscarriages, barely surviving the last. I had to be air-lifted to the hospital to avoid hemorrhaging to death. The doc was clear, "No more. You won’t survive.” That’s only one example . . .
My ‘energizer bunny’ behavior, (a title given me by one of my kids) has only been halted by broken bones, horrendous flu, or natural catastrophe like floods or earthquakes. Without an extreme external intervention I have habitually just keep going . . . and, going . . . and, going. I contend that while nature may abhor a vacuum, nature abhors imbalance as well. Balancing agents have been there to keep me in check. Wouldn’t it be lovely if I didn’t have to depend on an external force bringing me to my knees for equilibrium?
What are the chances for reversing a lifetime of behavior? Good, I hope, if awareness combines with determination and a dose of compassion. I’m pretty sure I can muster the awareness, and if my history shows anything, determination isn’t too much of a problem. Compassion? That’s another story.
Compassion for my journey to a balanced life would presume humility. I would have to have a working acceptance of my limitations, and a reasonable appreciation for being born on the Solstice. I have memory of being told I was nothing special when I was young, and I believed it . . . yet, something deeper told me differently. I think I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that I am something special. Early on I kicked into my tenacity, and like a runaway train it has taken solid rock to stop me.
Maybe I can begin to let that go of the pursuit to prove myself, and be OK, just being me . . . the special, the ordinary, creative, mundane, and sometimes depressed me. I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle . . . somewhere in the territory of balance. Do people born on the Equinox struggle with this?
That’s what this artist is thinking about today . . .
About the paintings . . . "Lost" & "Drained" are two self portraits painted at a time when I had completely used up and exhausted my physical and emotional reserves leaving me in a state of clinical depression . . . A haunting reminder to me of the necessity to find balance in my thinking, and actions.
*The phrase “cherished belief” comes from a worthy self exploration and bettering program I attended years ago through Context International.