creativity – Page 61 – One Woman's Quest

Mapping Life

If you could make a map of your life, what would it look like? Have you walked one path, or several? Has the terrain been flat or rocky? What would the road ahead look like?

Let’s see if I can describe the map of my life.

My beginnings were in the east, at the edge of residential land, bordering on industrial. The path I was born on was bordered by rosebushes, but despite the flowery hope, the thorns were painfully evident. Not yet able to carve my own path, I was often passed over fences and imposed upon others.

At four, we moved west as a family and the path seemed to open up, and brought the fertile promise of new topsoil. It was here that I began to picture a direction of my own, and dreamed of writing, teaching, and fighting for children’s rights. But the richness of the soil proved superficial, and the foundation started to crack, and suddenly, we veered off course.

The new road took us out of town, away from the familiar, and on the edge of an escarpment. The way was marked by rocky crevices, and treacherous footings. As strong and independent as I tried to be, there were too many dark places here, and my confidence was shaken.

By the time we ventured back to my hometown, I had already disengaged myself from my parents’ path, and began to carve my own. The beginnings were not auspicious. I was headed into a dark, overgrown forest, which would trip me up many times over the next couple of years, causing me to grasp at any beam of light, desperately looking for a way out.

I came to clearings from time to time, and if you look closely, you will see the areas that I clear cut myself, out of sheer determination to make that time of my life count.

Then there are the moments where the path lifted me out of the woods and onto the sunny, green hilltops, and life was good again. And I resumed my dreams, and pursued my studies, and became a mother.

Until the earth opened up and swallowed me momentarily, but I climbed out of that, and for awhile I walked along the beaten path, not really sure if I belonged, but not wanting to miss out either. See my footprints there, hesitant, beside the road?

And see where I started to carve out yet another new route? There, where the trees are not so dense, and the wood is new, and spring green. Notice how the path begins to develop, wobbly a bit, at first, then straightening out, making it’s way in a slow ascent along that mountainside. There are the plateaus I have talked about, and look there, where I took a steep climb. Those were good times. I had purpose then, and felt so alive.

The path goes underground for awhile. You can’t see it, but it winds its way through the caves. I can tell you, I tried a few different trails while I was under there, but eventually settled on the one I’m on now. You can see it emerging, there at the top of the map, where the mountain opens up to a green valley. I’ll be resting here awhile, but the journey is not over yet.

Just over that next hill there is a village, and beyond that village, on the horizon, an ocean. Looks like there will be a few more peaks to master, and that the road might double back once or twice, but I am hoping for a beautiful landscape ahead, and a lot more ease of travel.

Try it yourself. Draw a map of your own life.

(Image: yourlifemapping.com)

Creativity and Self Definition

I dream that I am walking across an open field. The landscape is barren, and dry, and a wind storm is whipping up, with low menacing clouds. I am headed to the farm, where I raised my children, and where my ex-husband still lives. I am living in the city, in the basement of a raised ranch with hand-me-down furniture. While the apartment is bright, because of the high windows, it is still a basement. I am walking against the weather, despite the weather, because I want to finally settle something with my ex; call a truce. He is processing wood – putting it through a machine and creating little piles of wood chips and lots of sawdust in his large open shop. He keeps working and ignores my presence. My mother arrives in a car and has a present for him. My older sisters show up also. They are in the main house primping, and trying to show me how to make myself more attractive. I just want to clear the air, but there are too many distractions.

I always say that creativity is the process by which we define and then express ourself. In the dream, I am influenced by the women in my family, the inclement weather, and an ex-spouse who is preoccupied. I chuckle at the dream’s image of my older sisters preening, as growing up it was impossible to find a mirror that was not taken over by one of my sisters. It was part of the reason I chose to be a tomboy; it was easier than trying to get bathroom time for grooming.

In my family, women were expected to be pretty, under educated, and submissive to men. My older sisters were both beautiful, and took secretarial skills at school, leaving after grade 11, so they could get a job and find a man. I did not fit this mold. Taking after my father in looks, I had a receding chin, and wore glasses. I was also ‘gifted’ and aspired towards a university degree. I was outspoken and pro women’s lib. My mother told me daily that no one would ever love me; she worried about my future. I felt my mother’s legacy fulfilling itself, when my second, and former husband told me he had never loved me after seventeen years together. I left that marriage believing that I was unlovable.

I thought I had worked through all that. I am in a relationship now with a husband who constantly demonstrates his love for me. So why, in my dreams am I going over old territory? And what does this have to do with creativity?

Maybe the dream is reminding me that if we define ourselves within the context of our environment, then we are limited. If we are to expand our sense of self, we must be able to see beyond the landscape of our past. In terms of health, my mother has had numerous issues, including three rounds of cancer; my oldest sister suffered illness all her life; and my next older sister is debilitated by schizophrenia. None of them escaped the limitations of victimhood to experience either successful careers or relationships.

I believe that the purpose of dreams is always to bring positive movement in our lives. This one left me feeling hopeless, unwanted, unseen or heard – much like my childhood. I need to envision a new reality for myself. I need to create new possibilities instead of searching and re-searching the experiences that will never serve to define me as anything less than inadequate.

(Image: wallpapers-kid.com)

One Woman’s Quest

My Christmas present to myself this year (2011) is this blog. Writing is so much more to me than just words on a page. I have kept a journal for as long as I can remember, however; these past six years, as I have sought to redefine myself, I have let it go. Consequently, I have experienced a sense of disconnect, like something has been missing from my life. Lately, the restlessness has escalated and I find myself waking in the middle of the night, wondering at the source of this angst. Last night I put pen to paper. It was like reuniting with an old friend. Today, armed with the gift certificate from Chapters that my son gave me for Christmas, I hit the book store. I had in mind a particular book I wanted to buy for him. I didn’t find it. What I did discover was a daily meditation book entitled, The Tao of Joy Every Day: 365 Days of Tao Living, by Derek Lin. I picked it up, along with a few other books I thought other family members might enjoy. In line, I opened The Tao of Joy and began to read. My son may like this book, I decided, but this one is for me. On the ride home the commitment formed itself: with each day’s focus I can reflect and write. The goal: to find myself back on a spiritual path that sustains me; to regain equilibrium in my life.