She wasn’t the loud person in the room; many barely noticed she was there.She preferred the quiet corners, meaningful talks to Small talk, and those brief moments of alone time that gave his mind room to roam.
The problem: Her mind rarely did any roaming it often felt quite stuck.
Thoughts began to stack up on top of each other, a conversation continued to echo long after it ended, and small worries blossomed into major stories. Outwardly, she appeared calm; inwardly, however, there were hundreds of voices competing for space. One night, weary from the relentless weight of thoughts in her own head, she reached for a blue pen and a basic journal. No plan.
No vision.
She just began drawing. A line a dot then another curve then shapes formed, connection after connection bloomed where a muddled mess of thoughts had taken residency before… Unknowingly, she had done something quite extraordinary The thoughts that had been clinging so determinedly to her mind now had a new destination…
Her night journal began to overflow with swirling lines shapes dots and intricate patterns more and more this practice wasn’t about creating art and more about creating space. Space inside her own head… She didn’t magically banish anxieties, but it felt much lighter carrying their weight. Fragmented bits and pieces that constituted her mind started finding each other again and every stroke on that paper served as a quiet reminder that even the chaos could become quite meaningful if allowed permission to flourish.
She didn’t need to consider herself an artist …
You didn’t need pricey tools or a particular skill level to start. … Sometimes all that was needed were a pen and journal – a willingness to let the thoughts on your mind land on the paper so they could be seen rather than simply hauled around the rest of your day… Writing was one way to express emotions; drawing was another. When words felt heavy, lines, dots, and patterns could be a different form of conversation that emotions speak… your journals don’t have to hold perfectly formed sentences, but they could hold perfectly formed chaos.
After all, most of the time, this isn’t about getting the right answers but about giving your brain permission to take a huge, necessary breath, and perhaps your journal is the most glorious piece of artwork you will ever produce, because it will gradually be pieced together. . . . .