The other day my friend Colleen wrote, "Who else thinks self-help books should be comprised of blank paper and a pen...?" There was a deep, resounding recognition in me when I read that.
I tried therapy (talking to a therapist) a few years back when life was too big for me. It was okay. It was nice to have a relatively anonymous someone to say anything and everything to, but (at nearly $200 an hour) I just didn't feel it was really helping me. I wasn't getting the release I so needed and wanted. Simmer down, now... I'm not poo-poohing therapy. I know it works well for some. It just didn't work for me. I'm thinking there have to be others.
Finding what worked for me was partly due to good advice from friends, and partly due to my own determination to find my way to a better emotional state. All I know is that when I see a blank piece of paper, I see it as an invitation to loose (not lose) myself. Paper doesn't judge. I can write, scribble, use color or not, anything. The paper accepts me for who I am and, every now and then, reveals things to me that I might not have otherwise seen or understood.
I feel like a broken record lately, what with my edicts to create, create, create. But, my exuberance comes from experience. It feels good. Even if what you're creating is dark, it feels good. It gets the soul gunk out. To me, that's as important as physical exercise, good nutrition, and proper sleep. People tell me I'm amazing, or that my work is amazing, and I can't help but think, "Are you freekin' kidding me?! I'm just doing what I do to get by." However, this particular therapist is very cheap at far less than $5.00 a month.
I've been kind of mentoring a dear friend of mine, urging him to write. He has wonderful stories, a terrific gift of gab, and a beautiful sense of humor that, like all really good humor, comes from a hard resilience, a refusal to break when life gets tough. I'll admit, it's more than mentoring, I've been practically nagging him to write. At first he was astonished. Then, like a timid forest creature sniffing at treats left out on a log, started coming around to it. Now he's coming up with ideas and seems excited to begin. I love seeing that in a person. I love watching that leap. And then... yesterday... he said it. "I think this is going to be good for me." Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Looking for a good therapist? Let me help you help yourself. Email me. I'll help you set up a blog, send you a blank journal, needle and thread, recipes, etc. Your you is in there, just waiting for a chance... all you've got to do is allow yourself some freedom to roam.