Twelve years ago when I was having chronic issues with my knee and back, I visited an orthopaedic specialist. At the start of the the session, he bewildered me by asking which of the two areas I’d like to focus on. After months of waiting for the appointment, I was taken aback. Isn’t the knee bone connected to the hip bone…like that old song? I asked the doctor if he would consider this point.
Luckily for me, he agreed to tend to both body parts!
This memory comes to mind when I think about the question asked of me by one of my wonderful writing-workshop participants. She was concerned that in a workshop focused on the creative process, we may have spent too much time on her emotional issue.
I assured her that the two are intertwined and that we simply go where we need to go in a workshop.
In fact, an incredible amount of great writing emerged from that session, because we had invited all parts of ourselves to attend — even (and especially) the wounded!
*I’m not sure whose idea it was that art and emotion (and by extension, life and emotion) should sit in different rooms. That we can create — and continue to create — masterpieces, while avoiding the central facet of our spiritual architecture, the intelligence that guides our creative processes and, if we are being true to ourselves, our lives?
Growing up, the message I received about emotions was that they needed to be mastered. Now that I’m grown, I’ve come to understand that they are wild animals with a much keener sense than I about who the good people are and which is the quickest path home.
In my workshops and in this world, I support an integrative approach where our core essences are welcomed to the table. Our shadow-sides and hurts, our joys and triumphs all have a place amongst us when we sit to create or set our hearts to healing. With these wise ones in our midst, we are whole beings and our strongest selves.
* Actually, the genesis of this idea is well-known, but the subject of another article!