colour associations run deep for me
a story. a memory. a hope. an intention
all appear in the colours
i play with in my journal pages,
my collage work, my gardens, the blankets on my bed,
the occasional ring and earrings i might wear.
i of course,
gravitate to some colours more than others.
blues, greens, yellow and white.
the colours of beaches and deep forests.
i am sure my dream house will have a red front door.
but not pink.
nope. i don't do pink.
or at least i didn't
until last week and now she is springing up everywhere.
i dug deeper into healing my childhood trauma
a wound, a disturbance, an upset, confusion, upheaval.
i do not type the word lightly, nor do i need to elevate it to a higher place than it needs
trauma is a part of my story.
trauma is common.
is a stepping stone to my future
and so here i am.
when i have the energy
i am accepting, welcoming, naming,
and turning over my traumas
to reveal the fertile soil underneath.
and this brought me to my understanding of the colour
i am continuing to use my art as
therapy and i am exploring on a variety of levels.
i go to art therapy
and i am also participating in two on line courses.
it was while i was
creating a mandala
that the colour pink
came and busted me right open.
here's the thing.
i enter most of these experiences/exercises with a fairly skeptical eye.
how can this
actually accomplish the deep work of soul healing?
i ask myself this each time i begin
and each time i show up to the page
cracks open. heals.
allows me to become new.
my first mandala is dark and dense.
protected and closed in.
not. at. all.
kinda looks like a school planet project gone bad.
except for the pink dot in the center.
it started out as white. then became yellow
but as i was trusting the process
i made it pink.
newborn fresh pink
pink as in eternal love
i will love you forever and never forget you pink
if you choose to accept the definitions that have been assigned to colours.
they are bang on correct.
and if at first i am skeptical,
i dig deeper and they always fit.
(weird, right..i know)
suddenly this little pink dot in the center of my mandala
becomes a representation of what i needed from my birth mother
and i feel it so clearly and i can articulate it to Owen,
which I can almost never do...
these are deep stories that remain hidden
but not the day of the pink dot.
i found myself on the couch,
sobbing and gesturing wildly,
laughing at my intensity
but letting it all spill out.
i needed a teeny tiny pink baby hat.
i craved the connection that occurs between mother and babe the moments after birth.
that exhausted love exchange that occurs.
i wanted. the. pink. newborn. hat.
i wanted to lovingly be placed on my birth mama's chest and i needed to feel her heart.
but i didn't get to do that.
that is the true story and it is unchangeable
i am learning to be okay with that.
and the grieving and healing that came
as an extension of that pink dot
is helping get me there.
closer and closer to being at peace with my birth story.
i love you so.