Painting is My Greatest Teacher

*This is an eleven year old journal entry about painting and expectations. Unfortunately, those pesky expectations still follow me around on a daily basis. The good news is I don't hang on to them as long as I did back then. Painting really is teaching me how to live.

"Painting is teaching me how to live." I can still remember hearing those words from a fellow painter over a year ago and now I was writing them in my journal feeling, as she must have felt, grateful and in awe of the process. As I write I realize painting is the only work I can do that transitions naturally from the page out into my daily life.I've read tons of books. I've meditated and chanted and gone to a lecture here and there. But painting allows me to face myself and my choices each time I put paint to paper.

The other night as I began to work on a painting that had been unfolding for several months, a beautiful woman began to emerge effortlessly from a pink and powerful flower. She was silver and fuchsia with black outlines. I was there for her with every paint stroke, providing the muscle and love needed to create her.It was a smooth and pleasurable experience. The genuine joy I experienced that night was unmatched and I was genuinely sad to leave her.

I didn't paint for a few days and began to miss the warm connection the fuchsia woman and i had shared.I was excited to see her again! When I was able to paint again I got right to it knowing she must have been missing me as much as I missed her. As I began to paint I could tell immediately something wasn't right. Things felt awkward and forced. I was expecting a repeat performance of the other night and she wasn't cooperating. Where was my joyful bliss-filled connection? It would seem my joy had been replaced by an ugly cold shoulder, a blatant refusal to bend to my direction and do as I expected. All I wanted was to give her a beautiful face and it wasn't working. In fact, the harder I pushed the more contorted her features became. I simply could not accept the fact that her face wasn't going to look the way I wanted and it hurt me to look at her misshapen features.

Why was it so important to me that she appear beautiful? Was it easier for me to deal with a beautiful face? I had expected our time together to mirror our last meeting and when that didn't happen I clung to the idea that I could change her and the moment to give me what I wanted. I pushed and pulled against the current that night, trying to make the situation feel good.It never occurred to me that I could accept what was happening and just go with it... maybe even get a little curious about what the situation had to offer. That night, instead of being present for what wanted to show up, I made the choice to try to fix things and focus on all that I perceived to be "wrong" with my painting.

Later I realized this was how I was choosing to live my life. I was constantly attaching certain expectations to everything and everyone. It was starting to dawn on me that by creating these expectations I was setting myself up for all sorts of disappointments. Admittedly this was not a foreign concept to me. Reading all my books and going to my various lectures and workshops had allowed me to visit and revisit the idea of living without expectations. But that night, nose to nose with my painting, I felt it. For the first time I truly took it in and understood that I was the one who was making it so hard. I was choosing to struggle when I could just let go.

Gratitude for the whole shabang

So it's that season ... the time to reflect on those things we are grateful for. My list includes the big stuff--My family & friends, my partner, my health, my art and creativity, Creative Nectar Studio and all participants, our mother Earth, and all the love that surrounds me constantly. All the wonderful things that make life worth living.

At a meditation group I attended earlier this week, one participant commented on how quick we as humans are to label things. Good or bad. Beautiful or ugly. Pleasant or painful. Right or wrong. We live in a world of duality, where "this" appears separate from "that". She came to the conclusion that no matter how we label or judge an experience--even if we call it "icky"--that on a deep level, beyond the world comparison, it has intrinsic beauty simply because it exists. It is, and therefore it is perfect.

Have you ever ended a relationship and felt like you were returning to even more of yourself? Or have you ever had an illness and learned something from it, like how to tune in to your body and listen more? Have you ever lost money, only to find that you were more willing to receive from others and appreciate the things you do have?

Perhaps I can expand my gratitude list to include my divorce, my inner critic, my rejection letters, my physical pains, my fears, and all the years spent trying to please others. Each stepping stone along the way has brought me to this moment right where I am--Wiser and happier.

We make it a point not to comment on one another's paintings in workshops, even with positive feedback. The reason is to not inhibit the creative flow and pre-condition us for the next painting we do. But on another level, it is honoring what is ... what has been given life right in front of us. It trains us to appreciate and honor the full cornucopia of life experiences that come our way without being so quick to judge, label and file away.

So my challenge for you: Are you willing to find the blessing in every experience you've encountered on your life's journey? Can you feel gratitude for even the yucky stuff? The whole shabang?

Dip your toes in this Friday

We find ourselves with an extra Friday morning available in our painting schedule this coming Friday, Sept 16th. The studio will be open for anyone who would like to take a bit of time for themselves and paint from the inside out on Sept 16th from 10am-12:30. Because this morning was a last minute add, we are offering the session on a donation basis with no registration needed.

If you have been curious but haven't had the money, or weren't sure about your schedule ... come on by!

Live Juicy!!

Painting as a Mirror

The process of painting brings me face to face with the truth of the moment--to the ME that cannot be escaped. There can be no masks, no fabrications. This can be a scary place, truly, but a place as real and as honest as it can get. In this way, painting is like a mirror of my internal experience.

I'm not talking about the way the painting looks, which is a physical result, but painting rather as a verb. The process of showing up to the vastness of the unknown without instructions or a road map. Facing whatever is there: The internal voices in my head that question and moan and try to convince me to ditch the studio to go get something to snack on, or go have a beer...ANYTHING but face the apparent emptiness and uncertainty that is felt in my gut.

But staying with the truth of the moment can bring some interesting results: It's as if the doubts and fears are like the terrifying monsters that stand guard at the temple of the Divine. After seeing them for what they are and courageously stay with them, or even take a step forward, they will eventually be silenced and bow before us, opening the way to a new reality.

So this is our practice... The "Hero's Journey" as Joseph Campbell called it. Standing in our courage and journeying into the unknown, unmoved by fears and distractions and driven by a deep-seated desire to know ourselves and find our bliss. And it starts in the present moment, right where we are, without masks, standing before our painting. As sobering and humbling as it is, where else in our lives can we find such moments of pure honesty?