Anxiety is often spoken about as a problem to be fixed, medicated, or mindset-hacked away. Yet in the therapy room and in my own life, anxiety has shown up as something more complex: a protective part, a messenger from deeper hurt, and sometimes a sign that something stranger is moving through the nervous system. In this article, I share my journey with gremlins, inner critics, parts-work and “critters”, and how creativity and compassion help us move from fighting ourselves to befriending what lives inside.
This is written for anyone who feels hijacked by anxiety or critical voices and is curious about a gentler, more creative way of relating to them.
La Luna (2011), paper, white emulsion, tippex, acrylic, plastic stars and wool
Last week I saw the crescent moon and it looked like art made by human hand, which made me recall my attempt at making a crescent moon many moons ago. On finding the blog post from 2011, I felt glee to see it! It was a playful experience and I want to share it with you!
I’m developing a special relationship with the moon and I really enjoy connecting with her. I say ‘her’ because I feel the presence to be feminine. Maybe that’s because I project my femininity onto her. Who knows? Who cares?
I’m looking forward to celebrating the next full moon, maybe with a fire ceremony, or maybe quietly, writing a piece of poetry. As we wax towards that, I hope you enjoy my crescent moon. Here’s the original text I wrote to accompany it in 2011:
The Three Muses set their weekly artistic challenge: “the moon”. It ties in with one of my current projects: telling the story of the different identities my imagination created during my childhood to protect me.
One is a she-wolf; she lives inside me on a beautiful snow covered mountainside. I discovered her existence during my first counselling session with Emma Welsh.
The moon has an important role in helping the wolf to release the pain she has held for me and the other identities; when the moon is full it stirs something in her to howl out. It’s not full yet…
I made the light side of the moon using a page from a magazine and several coats of white natural emulsion paint.
The dark side of the moon is black card flicked with tippex and painted over with black acrylic paint.
The fabric of the universe, or dark matter, is a large knitted square over which I sprinkled stars that were given to me by a wise woman at Survivors Network.
If there is a god or creator, I wonder if it created the universe as an art project?
In a dark place once, I felt utterly depressed; could not think of one thing I was grateful for. Not one. I hated where I was living in my sixth floor council flat, where I’d taken up the tiles leaving a bare, concrete floor in the lounge. It felt cold, looked freezing, like the night sky. I had no spiritual practice. I had isolated myself. I wasn’t working. I was on government ‘benefits’. I felt unable to work and bad for not working. Wretched is the word for it.
