THE
ART OF BEING - an experience that changed my life, by
Gizelle Rush
I
once read of a study of supposedly "life changing"
events - people who had either won the lottery or suffered
a severe, disabling injury were questioned, as were their
friends and families. What the study uncovered was that
within a year of the event, the winners, or victims, ended
up pretty much where they had been before - maybe the
practical or outward aspects were different, but their
feelings about themselves and about life were back to
where they had always been. Those with sunny, cheerful
dispositions were no happier for having won the lottery,
nor any less happy for being wheelchair-bound. And those
who had always been cynical, or pessimistic, remained
that way whether they had lost a leg or won a fortune.
The
study relieved me, in an odd way. At least now I could
give up waiting for that "one thing" - some
dramatic change in my circumstances that would enable
me to feel better about myself. During almost all my adult
life I had suffered from depression, often severe enough
that I required medication, but seldom so severe that
I was unable to hide it, or unable to cope with my life.
The study seemed to suggest that my level of inner contentment
was something set into my personality or my brain chemistry
- that there was nothing that could really alter it. I
might as well just accept that this was the way I was,
and learn to live with it. As I said - an odd kind of
relief: the pressure was off as I could give up trying
to "fix" myself, but at the same time there
was a sadness that I was just doomed to live my life in
this half-hearted way; surely there had to be more to
being alive and human?
Around
the same time, a friend of mine started doing a course.
At that time I had a client in the area, so once I week
I would visit her and we would sit and drink tea and she
would tell me about all the things she was learning -
about the four temperaments and the four elements, for
example; things I had heard of and found fascinating,
in the same way that I had a somewhat sceptical interest
in astrology. She would also show me some of the creative
work she produced - a life size full-body portrait in
pastels, a wonderful mobile of origami cranes… She
had always been artistic, a painter and a craft-oriented
person with a wonderful eye for colour and detail, something
I envied - I had often wished I could awaken my own creativity
and artistry. At some point during the year I vaguely
decided that I would try to do the course myself; it seemed
like a wonderful opportunity to learn some interesting
things and encourage my own artistic expression.
In
September my friend invited me to come to a play put on
by her group - during that term they had been working
with drama, which I took to be just another form of creativity.
But the experience was a bit of a shock for me - the "play"
was a shambles, unscripted, and no costumes! My friend,
who is gifted with a beautiful voice in addition to her
other talents, sang a song written by another member of
the group; some of the scenes appeared to be in the wrong
order, the story didn't make much sense, none of it met
my expectations of what a "play" should be.
Still, it shouldn't have been as unsettling an experience
as it was - I couldn't understand why I had reacted with
such discomfort, nor could I understand why it had turned
my vague decision into a commitment. Shortly afterwards,
I met with Karen (Rootenberg, the course facilitator)
to arrange to participate the following year.
One
of the very first modules covered in the course was about
the three-fold nature of the human being. There was the
realm of knowledge, of thinking and learning - a realm
I was comfortable in, as I had always found information
of pretty much any kind to be fascinating, and had accumulated
quite a store of it already. I had known the course would
include this, and that I would get to study some new fields
- some challenging, some esoteric. But there was the realm
of doing and of acting, of creating and manifesting –
and it was this aspect of the course which I knew would
be difficult for me. One of the things I struggled with
in my depression was "doing" as it often seemed
pointless to do anything. And I was scared to reveal and
express myself through words or colours or movement. But
I was looking forward to developing this aspect of myself.
And
then there was the realm of feeling. Here, at last, I
discovered the missing link, not just in my expectations
of what the course would be about, but in life. This was
a realm I had managed to completely cut myself off from
- which is not to say that I never had feelings or emotions,
just that I had no idea how to work with them. I consistently
avoided uncomfortable feelings, or at least, I tried my
best to do this - and undermined the pleasant ones, by
feeling guilty or undeserving or simply anxious in the
knowledge that they wouldn't last.
During
the course, each module incorporated working within all
three realms. There would be the theoretical information,
and the creative activity - but most of all, there would
be the process of uncovering my feelings. So I learned
about the four elements (earth, water, air and fire) and
their symbolic meanings - but the real learning was taking
the information and incorporating it in a way that helped
me understand my own nature. And I worked on my body-map,
a life-size self portrait - but the real work was facing
my own fears and feelings of inadequacy.
Each
term we explored different topics and themes - temperaments,
the twelve senses, our biographies; and we practiced different
types of creative expression - art, poetry, movement,
clay sculpture, drama. And each term I struggled with
my own emotional nature. Through my inability to complete
an artwork - always leaving empty spaces on my pictures
- I discovered something about the emptiness in my life.
Through my need to turn our own play into something clear
and concise, I experienced my "control freak"
aspect. Over the course of the year I encountered my inner
critic, my lonely inner child, and the barriers I had
developed to keep others at bay.
Of
course, I "knew" all this stuff already - there
was nothing I encountered during the course that wasn't
part of my life as a whole anyway. I had flashes of insight
(Ah! The reason I struggle with friendships is that we
moved around so much when I was a child, I never learned
how to sustain relationships outside my family!), but
outside of the theoretical information, which I could
have read up for myself, I can't say I "learned"
anything new. I already knew that I was lonely, that my
life felt empty, and that the constant little voice in
my head - criticising and complaining - paralysed me and
kept me from pursuing my dreams.
But
what I discovered was a way, not to "fix" myself,
but to allow myself to accept these aspects of myself,
to face them and acknowledge them, and through this to
become more whole and authentic. With Karen's loving guidance,
her amazing ability to create and hold a space where I
could go deeply into my previously rejected feelings,
and with the presence of the other members of the group,
who reflected myself to me so I could see myself more
honestly, and whose courage and expression of their own
feelings was a constant revelation, I was able to begin
to integrate so many parts of myself that I had - unconsciously
- rejected: both the negatives, like my need to control
things, and the positives, like my originality.
It
came as quite a shock to me when, towards the end of the
year, I realised I had not gone through a single episode
of depression. Yes, there were many nights when I went
home and cried, feeling lost and frustrated and hopeless;
there were many nights when I went home angry, furious
at some other member of the group who had pushed my buttons;
there were many times I considered just giving up - wasn't
this just going to be another pointless exercise in trying
to change myself that would leave me no better off than
I had been before?
The
thing is - it wasn't. I have had to face quite a few challenges
in my life since then - I've lost a job, I've had to move
house, I've had some health problems - but not once have
I sunk into that black pit, once so familiar, of self-loathing
and self-pity. Instead, I have discovered a new capacity
to meet these challenges of my life, not without fear
or tears or anger, from time to time, but with a sense
that my life has purpose and that I can therefore cope
with being challenged, and occasionally, even encounter
these challenges with a sense of joy for the continued
learning they bring me. It sounds so clichéd -
and I hate clichés! - but the so-called problems
really are just opportunities!
How
can a year-long course, four terms of exploring myself,
have had such a huge impact on me, when winning a million
rand or going blind would have changed me less? I think
it has to do, firstly, with the length of time: a change
in job might shift some outer aspects, a weekend long
course might provide some insights - but over the course
of year I had time to really transform aspects of myself
on a deep, subtle and pervasive level. I had time - and
a safe space - in which to experiment with other ways
of being, to see what would happen if I did allow myself
to express my anger, my fear, and my grief. Secondly,
by committing to the course - two evenings a week during
school terms, for an entire year - I had made a commitment
to myself, and honoured it by giving myself the gift of
time. Another reason the course affected me so profoundly
was the realisation that I could not fix myself, that
I wasn't trying to change myself and shouldn't be. Instead
of waiting for something to come to me from outside (some
lightning strike or lottery win), I have embraced the
idea that my entire life can be a process of self-discovery
and growth towards wholeness and authenticity. I don't
have to be perfect now - I can just experience the joy
of coming ever closer to my own truth and uniqueness,
the joy of seeing life as the continual task of learning
the art of being myself.
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