Uncovering Darker Riches

I am sitting here at my table in my small living room, in my single wide modular home, and in front of me is a painting that Steve made when our relationship was very young, and we lived in our first house. At the time, I was trying to reconnect to art, and he borrowed some of my art supplies and painted a partial view of a tree trunk with a large gnarled burl, and a blue and white muddled sky in the background. I have some art from this time, but most of it is tucked away in my old art bag out in the garage. Somehow, this winter tree surfaced, and I tacked it to the wall. It is one of just a few things that Steve has painted over the last 22 years, and it is very precious. At the time, I thought it slightly crude, muddled red and brown with black lines for detail, and yet, as I have matured, I have learned to see much beauty in this painting. 

This is what I am trying to teach myself lately. Perfect is not always beautiful. High expectations  happen to be at the root of many of the character flaws that I am preparing to ask God to remove from my life. In the dark texture of the detail of this painting, rests emotion and a deep understanding for the rich soil, the decomposition and excrement of life, that contain the richest lessons and the purest wisdom. Two days ago I took a walk at low tide between Flat Point and Odlin county park and beach. As I descended through the forest to approach the beach, I felt emotions beginning to surface. Instead of a slow meander, where I would become distracted taking photos of gnarled tree roots, and examining rocks and shells, I gained momentum and let my feet quicken to a pace where I lost myself in the music. Eventually, I came to a large sand bar, where I could quicken my pace even more, and as a sad but favorite Ani Difranco song played, I let my heart ache as tears bubbled up and took the driving seat for a moment. As my legs pumped, I sobbed. I felt. Something about the artistry and seclusion of my environment, and the raw beauty of the masses of seaweed, the grey-ness of the sand, and the solitude of the moment, moved me deeply. What lie just under the surface revealed itself. What was in me was not sparkling yellow and white, it was mushy green and brown. The beauty did not resemble perfection, rather it resembled the lack there of. 

I know that the goal is to stay on the sunny side of life, and that we are all well aware of the sadness and grief that life holds. But how often do we look the grief and the mud in the face and call it beautiful? How often do we meld with, and feel, the sadness, and let it flow. How and where can we find the opportunity to witness and express these emotions? When we feel numb, frozen, and riddled with the pattern of our coping mechanisms, how do we begin to approach the path of finding our real selves? On the AA coin is the Shakespeare quote, “To thine own self be true.” How do I awaken and nurture this “self”. Lately, I have been meditating on the word loyalty. Getting in touch with the meaning of this word, I have found that it is not so much about loyalty to others, but to ourselves. How can we be true to ourselves? What if we have bottled up so much pain, while living by coping, and have lost touch with our true self so much, that we cannot comprehend the idea of “loyalty to self”. We have no self that we can easily relate to, and be loyal to. This is the journey. If we expect great things from ourselves always, if we constantly achieve what we believe to be perfection, we miss finding the muddy, yet beautiful reality of our true selves. We cannot be loyal to others, faithful, honest, selfless and kind, if we cannot first be loyal to ourselves. We must embark on the journey to find and access our truer self. To do this, we must accept the not so perfect colors of life.

Darkness and horror is food for the masses. American culture loves the horror movie, or the cult classics that portray the fantasies of vampires, witches, and dark magic. Somehow, we do not necessarily crave the sunshine. How do these darker realities feed our selves? Perhaps innately and intuitively, we know that what lies underneath our narcissistic culture that strives for perfection, are many hidden daemons. Not all of these daemons are bad. Some of them hold truths that can guide us to the unconventionality of the nature of our deeper emotions and our truer selves. Somehow, we must bring our deeper feelings and our animalistic characteristics to the surface. Life loves the murky, the dark green smelly seaweed that covers the beaches here in the Pacific Northwest. Breathe in the low tide. Let nature’s true essence awaken your deeper emotions. The journey is about finding those rich, and sometimes darker and uglier colors that live underneath the surface. Perhaps this is true beauty.