I adore my two writing classes this semester. One is online, my first time to try a class in this format, and the other is in person with a favourite professor who taught me counselling classes almost twenty years ago. He was a big reason for me choosing this particular university and this is my first class with him since I returned to school. It’s like three hours of the best therapy every Thursday afternoon.
Yesterday we spent 45 minutes silently colouring on large pieces of art paper. We used crayons, broken and bent from years of other people using them to access some long forgotten piece of their creative selves. The only rule was that we couldn’t write words. The goal was to draw aimlessly, without thinking about it too much, and try to enter into the flow of listening to what our subconscious was saying.
I highly recommend this practice. Even just drawing nonsense squiggles caused me to feel weepy, as I knew I was communicating from a deeper level than usual by allowing my right hand to move aimlessly across a sheet of paper without planning or designing what was going to happen.
We all have so much happening underneath of our usual words, smiles, tears, and silences. Some days we churn, others we are still like a standing puddle. The key to fully living out this human experience is to stay in touch with these deeper parts of our being. To know who we really are, without our bullshit disguises and imposed societal obligations.
Many of us drew some form of a circle. For me, my circles felt like a dream I’m inching toward; some form of wholeness and inevitability. I’m weary of straight lines and conformity. I long for the clarity and purpose of a circle, fully contained but also willing to expand and grow outward as necessary. My subconscious seemed to be expressing this wish in my class yesterday. Today, when I reflect on this drawing and sharing experience, I feel a sense of peace and wonder.
I’m also thinking about something my professor said when we were discussing the boundless possibilities humans experience. He said, “We have the capacity to create a fair and just world. And yet we don’t. Why is this?” As a question, it generated a lot of interesting ideas, but my heart feels heavy a day later mulling this over in my mind and soul. How can humans innovate so many marvellous inventions and yet we continually fail to create a fair and just world?
Peace and wonder have to be the markers of a creative life being lived. Otherwise, what is it all for? This pursuit of art is supposed to be leading us somewhere. Together. Towards fairness and justice. We are all on different paths but hopefully our guideposts involve peace and wonder, lighting our way towards a fair and just world. Or at least a better one than what we were born into.
I long for that, with every ounce of my being, and hope that somehow those circles last night are part of this unyielding dream toward a better existence for all of us. For today, I’ll follow my sense of peace and wonder. Whatever leads me closer to those things are to be prioritized over what leads away from them. Perhaps it really is as simple as that while we make our way towards creating a fair and just world.