Wellness Wednesday: You are here, now...

You are here, now...

Colored pencil on paper

M. Rattigan, c. 2014

I have had two meditative, mindful, creative times with my colleagues Girija and Elizabeth since I have returned to work post concussion.  I have not recorded the image previous this one, but the process that first time back was supportive.  I was aware of feeling discomfort and frustration as the headaches had been (and still are) increasing.  I was hoping the time would allow me to decompress and be still.  The image created was a white "hot" circle surrounded by red and orange created with watercolor on canvas paper.

The image included with this writing reflects the second time we had a chance to meet, occurring just last Wednesday, November 5th.  We met in a different room on a different floor with windows letting natural light in.  We sat at a conference table and with some soft, meditative music in the background and simply seemed to fall into stating what we needed.  I shared my intention, which was to be present and aware and accepting of whatever I was feeling that day without judgment.

I played with the colored pencils, secretly wishing to switch to watercolor, but instead decided to stay with the pencils and be aware of what would happen if I stuck with what I had rather then trying to find something "better".  Light scribbles became a frame, a red "x" with directional arrows, and shadows on the left became three figures.  I decided to change the orientation of the page so that the three figures would be on the bottom of the paper.  I continued to add detail to the figures and the environment.  I heard in my mind, "You are here, you are now, you have what you need".  I wrote this around the frame.  While writing I was aware that I began taking deep breaths, so I added, "Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat."

It was not until we reviewed our art together that I realized that the three figures could very well represent the three of us: Three "wise" women gathered under a directional star.

Looking again I feel the figures hold a humble nature.  The environment and sky is vast, a bit ominous (overwhelming-- like life and work, at times), and yet-- as my dear friend Nancy pointed out later in conversation -- nautilus-like.  I was struck by these insights, observations and discoveries as I am truly what Buddhist's would label "beginner's mind".  I am so eager to know, to learn... maybe TOO eager to know, learn; as the process has to unfold at its OWN pace, not mine...

So without trying to "force" meaning and understanding, I am open to letting this unfold.  I desire to be open and eager, yet humble and patient.  It is Nancy who discovered the nautilus, and upon light research and minimal knowledge of its metaphor, I stumbled upon a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes.  It is called "The Chambered Nautilus".  In it, he refers to the growth of the shell as similar to our striving in spiritual growth only to find ourselves in a bigger space that we then grow out of.  It is also reminds me a bit of Maslow's hierarchy of needs and one's ongoing, unending strive for self-actualization.

This resonated with me.  In our discussions that day I had shared that I felt I was not living up to my full potential.  I have a feeling that there is something more I 'should' be doing.  Something spiritual and creative is calling.  I am having a hard time hearing it, or I think I hear it and when I get there, when I reach a goal... I realize that's not "it".  Is it that I am living too far in the future and not seeing the now?  Am I not giving full awareness to what I heard while creating? What is it that I am searching for, and perhaps I need to stop looking and let it find me?

Some people believe in signs.  I am a half-time believer in signs.  The day after our powerful gathering I was driving home on a long stretch of road behind one car.  As I got closer, I saw that the license plate read: "B STILL". Yup, I'll take that one.

Thanks for listening.


    

Painted meditation

"Journey through the unknown" (in progress)

Watercolor, chalk, ink, graphite, and collage

M. Rattigan c. 2014

Last night I had an awakening of my own painting process and its mindful qualities.  A lot of what I am already doing with clients in my art therapy practice is initially image-less and abstract, utilizing kinesthetic and sensory aspects of various paint and pastel mediums to guide them into reconnecting with a lost part of Self, becoming more aware, and to do so without judgment and with acceptance.

Last night I played and re-played the painting processes in my mind, and my more recent experiences and creations.  The words kept coming to me: Breath and Brush.  This morning, I was propelled into a creative process of envisioning and writing up a workshop: "Painted Meditation: A mindful balance of breath work and brush stroke".  I am so excited about it and hope it comes into fruition so I can share it with you at some point.

Thanks for listening.

Meditation Monday: Nothing

Nothing

Pencil on paper, 3 1/2 x 3 1/2 

c. M. Rattigan 2014

Bad night sleep.  A bad weekend of bad headaches, filtering into today.  The headaches have intensified again.  I took the time today to just sit.  It did help to meditate and just focus on my breath.  Sporadic images came into my mind: vivid day dreams of disjointed, chaotic surreal scenes.  Perhaps I was falling asleep at points.  When I came back to my breath I saw nothing, or maybe I am not ready to see what lies just behind it... yet.

Meditation Monday: September 22, 2014

Line of Growth
Watercolor, 3 1/2 x 3 1/2, M. Rattigan c. 2014

Return from Concussion

It's been a long journey, one still going on as I recover from a concussion from a minor accident which took a major toll on my daily living.  I had not been able to fully meditate as I was in much pain and experiencing dizziness.  Much of my earlier posts began eluding to horrible headaches and to feeling off, uneasy, and as if I was swaying... it only got worse as my condition was exacerbated by misdiagnosis and lack of proper treatment.  My body was telling me, but I was not listening fully, and waited too long for a second medical opinion.

Today was my first attempt to try meditating on my own again.  I am happy that while I do have a slight headache today, I was able to focus and breathe fully without rigidity and shallow breath.  I credit my short work in Restorative Yoga with Lisa at Pink Lotus in Woodstown and Swedesboro, NJ as helping me achieve this reconnection back into my body and breath. Namaste.  Please look them up at pinklotusnj.com.

Today brought me a line of growth.  After a bit of feeling movement: a back and forth/side to side sway, I saw the line extend from the lower left corner of my mind towards the upper right corner.  Midway, there was a slight bend.  Fibers wrapped around it: what were they?  Was is a leaf?  Was it a cocoon? Was it simply thickening?  I felt a small 'ping' of pain on my right shoulder and right side of my neck.  I noticed pain mirrored on my left and right sides of my head just above my ears.  The line that was slightly bent continued on its bent journey, and curled under itself to make a loop before connecting to the upper right corner.  This new shape held significance as it presented itself inside cross-sections of my body: in my head, in my lower neck, in my shoulders, around my heart, and at my hips.  Interestingly, even though pain led my imagery process, the image itself feels like a comfortable connection: a balance.  I see it, I acknowledge it, I feel it, I know it, I listen to it, I give it space, I learn from it...

Thanks for listening.

Wellness Wednesday no. 1

Heavy Head, 11"x14", colored pencil, M. Rattigan

Wellness Wednesday with Elizabeth and Girija

 July 16, 2014

This was my first wellness Wednesday at work.  It is an idea I have been passionate about for several months: implementing a time to sit and be, with intention.  It is hoped it will maximize work flow and allow conflicts and stress to become untangled and free.  Perhaps the “stuck” points can become areas of new growth, new ideas, a new perspective…  Maybe it’s about becoming aware of stuck points felt in the body and played like a broken record in the mind.  Acknowledgement of these does not automatically “dissolve and resolve” the issue at hand, but perhaps can be understood as a sounds, movement, or color to better be able to know how to respect it, hear it, and learn from it.

Today we all made individual intentions that were rather similar. Mine was “to be, to sit, and to remain open”.  After some initial planning we decided to be in the movement space with its windows and natural light.  The movement room also allowed for us to choose sitting, laying or moving.   Paper, markers, colored pencils, and oil pastels were available with large paper to be a mat or base to not ruin the room’s special floor.  I put on some music that I wanted to share and so we began…

I sat cross-legged and felt restless.  I gradually uncrossed and moved slowly back into a laying down position, knees bent, feet flat on the floor.  I was conscious of the hardness of the floor and the discomfort in my lower back and the back of my head.  I moved about to try and find comfort: tilting my hips, lifting my head gently and repositioning it: I still felt pain and pressure.  I imagined the back of my head like a weight.  Its heaviness created  imagined indents and cracks in the floor where fluid lines like vines pushed through the cracks.  I sat with this for a while until I could not sit with the pain in the back of my head.  I slowly sat up and decided to stand.  I moved to an area with my back facing a wall of windows.  I could have stayed where I was but it did not feel OK.  I would have had my back to Elizabeth.  Moving to this new area, I was open to the inside area of out triangle: Girija now diagonally to my left, Elizabeth diagonally to my right.  With my eyes closed, I placed my hands on my thighs and rolled down.  I noticed the weight of my aching head and felt a swaying and unsteadiness. I carefully tilted my head side to side, and repeated this rolling and tilting several times.  I imagined heaviness dripping off of my head.  Now it felt time to draw and record.

The paper horizontal, I selected colored pencils.  I followed the swaying and rocking rhythm of the music and created a sphere.  The bottom half incorporated mostly warm colors: orange and red.  I thought of the “heat” associated with “weight” and “burning pain” in my head.  I spent much time with this process trying not to disrupt or disturb my peers whom were also at this point on the floor drawing.  In a quick glance I noticed Elizabeth’s color scheme of green, yellow and blue.  I remember a friend recently wished me “healing ribbons of blue and green” when I was having a headache.  I decided to follow Elizabeth’s color scheme and add blue, green, and yellow.  In the wispy nature of the multi-lined sphere, I imagined hands softly handling the sphere, guiding it, and holding it without actually touching it. As I write this, I am reminded of the sensation of opposing magnets held gently in that space where they push away, but with a delicate external force can co-exist allowing the energy to remain active in between.  The image is called “Heavy Head”.

Meditation Monday no. 8: July 7, 2014

High Above, 7.7.2014, watercolor, M. Rattigan

I was moving and swaying back and forth. I felt uneasy at times.  The vibrations focused on my core down to my thighs.  There was a shaky feeling-- unsteady, as if I was on a tightrope.  Looking down, I saw I balanced high above water.  Nothing to catch my fall and I needed to try and stay steady with the breezes that blew...

Meditation Monday no. 7: June 30, 2014

Splitting Headache, 6.30.2014, Watercolor, M. Rattigan

Some wandering thoughts and images this meditation Monday:
The thought, "Do not disturb", a person in a sound-proof booth,
The thought, "Do not enter",
and finally, an image of a skull splitting slightly off-center.

I feel this last one-- up at the top and travelling behind my eyes and nose and again in between my eyes.  A wedge of pressure forcing itself into this fissure.  It sits and splits... plays with my eyes and makes the light hurt.  Calling it a headache minimizes it.  I keep going on.  Everyday.  What other choice do I have? Guess it's learning to live with the annoyance.

Then there's the guilt.  Yup.  Guilt.  "It's just a headache."  I didn't lose a limb, fight a war, survive a trauma; so I want to just move on.  But I can't.  I don't know why I have them... why I still have them... everyday.

Does "do not disturb" mean I shouldn't bother?  Does "do not enter" mean I shouldn't even 'go' there?  The sound proof box makes me think I am not really being heard.  Honestly I think I am just confused.  What I do know is that my head... well, it's still splitting...