There was a quote I heard several years ago on a podcast. I no longer remember the podcast or the host name/interviewee name (nor can I find it online—sorry) but the quote was “Paint what makes your heart hurt.”
Immediately after hearing the phrase I went to Pinterest to make a board of things that make my heart hurt. Rainy days, clothes on a windy line, quiet candlelight, crunchy autumn leaves…
But I realize today that those moments of heart-hurting are fleeting. I’m like a helium balloon, floating from one moment to the next, never able to hold onto certain emotions for long. I need something to anchor me down to that feeling, keep me immersed in the water for a bit, so to speak.
I know that my relationship with emotions is not exactly normal. My therapist said something about my emotional development being stunted as a child/teen and I’m only just now doing the catch-up. When something horrible happens, for instance, my mind registers it as absolutely awful, and there is that little pang in my heart, but it’s nothing more than a wing flutter. Long ago I must have learned that it was not only bad for me to show negative emotions (sadness, anger, disappointment, etc.) but it was also bad for me to feel them in the first place. So now I have this weird safety mechanism that stops the emotion before it starts. Like a kill switch.
I’ve heard people call it Emotional Blunting or full-on “emotional shut-down” but I’m not a psychiatrist so I don’t know what the actual term is. It’s basically a defense mechanism that prevents me from feeling bad or vulnerable in any way.
And while it might seem like a dream to not really feel anything “negative”—I do think I owe my cheerful and optimistic personality to this oddity—there are times when we need to feel. Because we’re human beings. Because bad things happen and, according to Inside Out I need to work through them. Because when there is a kill switch for not only negative emotions but extreme emotions in general, certain good emotions tend to feel a bit number than the norm. I feel happiness. I feel love. But when I find a way to anchor myself to these emotions I feel like I’ve been cheated out of something that I could have been experiencing this whole time.
This little quirk of mine is probably why I chose intuitive art over anything else. I’m better at visuals than mere information. A lot of times I don’t even know what’s wrong, just that something is wrong, and scribbling gives me an outlet to process what’s going on in there and show me where the kinks are. After all, we can’t solve a problem until we know what the problem is.
But I can’t use emotion to fuel my scribbles if I can’t…erm…feel it. So I need that anchor. And for me that anchor is not a Pinterest image of a candle on a rainy windowsill.
My anchor is music.
When music plays it’s almost like I’m suddenly allowed to feel whatever I want. The Kill Switch no longer functions. This is especially true if the music comes from a movie or show. If something I’ve watched touches me or makes me feel something deeper than the generic emotions I’ve allotted myself, I will sometimes spend days feeling something so complex I can’t even describe it. During that time I have a tendency to find the music playing during particularly “human” scenes and let myself become fully immersed in that pool of feelings.
When I’m feeling feelings? That’s when I do my best work.
What makes my heart hurt? Everything on the planet, actually. But what keeps my heart hurting? Works by Thomas Newman, Blind Faith, Hans Zimmer, Howard Shore, Joe Hisaishi, Christopher Larkin, and Jay Gruska.
So what anchors you? If you’re like me and have difficulties with feeling your feelings, maybe search for that one thing that makes it all okay. Is it music? Sci-if movies? A really good book?
And if you’re a creator, and/or are running your own creative practice, don’t be afraid to let something unrelated to your practice move you. Visual artists don’t have to be solely inspired by visual art. Photographers don’t have to be solely motivated by photography. Musicians don’t have to only draw their awareness from other music. That’s the beauty of having five senses instead of just one.
Even if you’re not a creator, I still think it’s important you find your inspirations/comfort/healing in things that maybe have nothing to do with your passions or career.
I’m also a big advocate for self-awareness, recognizing mental health issues, therapy, and even medication. If you aren’t feeling up to par or know there’s just something not quite right, there is absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help. When you have an infection, you see a doctor, you get medicine, and you get better. Why should your mental health be any different?
Until next time, may your anchors be heavy and your hearts be hurting (in a good way).
Scribble Chai 