As is my usual manner of art journaling, I had no idea what would become of this page. I often don't know what I need or how I'm feeling when I begin. I just know that I have to do it.
So I begin.
I've been reading four different books as of late. I'm not a huge reader and aside from the occasional novel, I rarely read a book cover to cover. I prefer books I can flip through at any given moment and discover what it is I may need in that moment.
The four books I am currently reading include: Writing as a Way of Healing by Louise DeSalvo, Mothers Who Can't Love by Susan Forward, PhD, Will I Ever Be Good Enough? by Karyl McBride, Ph.D., and most recently downloaded to my Kindle App, Letting Go by David Hawkins.
I learned about Writing as a Way of Healing from my friend Teresa, The Rightbrain Planner. I began to practice the journaling technique described by the author using my childhood abuse, but I became bored. I've spent a lot of time in therapy working on this issue. I realized that my emotional state shifted gears when I reached the point after the abuse.
This led me to my next two book purchases, Mothers Who Can't Love and Will I Ever Be Good Enough? These two books have been validating. I shared a photo of them on Instagram and received so many comments from other women who had either read the books, or expressed a desire to do so.
Then I read this blog post by Mandy Steward and decided to add Letting Go because the emotional work I am embarking on is going to be so much about letting go.
This journal page manifested from all of this. I didn't see it coming. The circles colliding and leading to a ladder of escape. I'm reading these books and having all the feels, or lack thereof, from the past and they're colliding with the present. There are moments when I feel as though pieces of me are breaking away, but they're just swirling around bumping into Planet Denial. I want to escape to Planet Future, but I can't get there until I let go of Planet Past and acknowledge how much it is destroying Planet Present.
I'm not very good at analogies, but it hit me that all the varying aspects of my life are colliding. My galaxy is out of alignment and my past is eclipsing my present.
On the opposite page I defaulted to flowers, which I often do when I'm trying to feel better. Flowers begin in darkness, buried, but always sprout up and open wide to all the possibilities.