When I was growing up and had questions about math, I’d ask my dad for help. He’d say, “Have you drawn a picture? Go draw a picture, and then we’ll talk about it.” I’d draw a picture and show it to him. As we talked over my picture, I would sometimes discover that I didn’t understand the math problem at all–what I had drawn didn’t reflect the information or instructions in the problem. Or, I’d discover that the the problem and the pathway to a solution became clear. Making a problem visual on paper and talking it through helped me see what I understood and what I didn’t understand. It helped me look at information from different angles and be more curious.
So go ahead and give it a try. Pick up a pen or pencil and draw a picture when you are thinking about a difficulty in a relationship or a tension in yourself, struggling to identify a want or need, trying to better understand how your feel or think, or curious about where different options might lead.
Stick figures are fine. So are curlicues and blobs of color. Sometimes you might start with an idea of what to draw—maybe a scene from an event you experienced—and sometimes you might start just by letting your hand move across the paper as you connect your hand to your feelings.
When you are done, don’t judge your drawing. Be curious about what you see. Is that anchor a stuckness or a helpful grounding? Are those roots just exposed or is it being repotted so it can flourish?
Example
I start—just moving my pencil across the paper.
Yep. That’s kind of how I’m feeling. Up and down. A little bit pointy—sharp— at times.
I add more.
Hmm, I wonder . . . curious about what is coming out on paper . . . . Are these mountains? Ocean waves? A sunset?
I add a little more.
Oof. This bit that I have added looks to me like an eye—the dazed eye from old cartoons. It is not a comfortable looking thing.
And that thick line from the eye thing to the wave/mountain/sunset is so thick. Something about it feels off.
I stop here to let what I’ve drawn settle in.
Do I feel like adding more? (I wait.)
No. This is where I stop.
After walking away from the drawing for a while, I come back to write about what I see within the context of events and choices I’ve been making in my life.
Reflection:
Recently, I have been facing change: aging parents, shifting family roles, political and cultural climate—a lot of moving parts—swirls and ups and downs. That thick dark line from the eye thing to the mountain/waves seems/feels like what I have been doing: “push through” it all, thinking that if I work hard enough, I can “ride into the sunset” where everything will be OK.
But it doesn’t work. The parts don’t go together. The line of connection doesn’t provide connection. It just feels forced and uncomfortable.
What might make this scene calmer, more comfortable? Taking out that thick black line might. So perhaps I can back off from what I have been doing to “make it work” and to hold change more lightly, to turn my focus on how I want to be in the world rather than on how to make it all work.
Solace 