Thought Swirls

Re-examine all that you have been told.....dismiss that which insults your soul.

~Walt Whitman

I saw this (somewhat paraphrased) quote by Walt Whitman on one of local artist Panhandle Slim's fabulous paintings yesterday and I was stopped in my tracks. I feel as though that is what I've been doing for years. I have learned so much growing up - especially in school - that was not helpful, plain wrong and often even harmful and now I'm trying to unlearn it. Boy, is that ever hard!!

There are rare days when those old voices are quiet and I can go about being myself and then other days when all I hear are those old tapes playing in my head. I KNOW they are not true, but I still can't shut them up for good. Do you know what I'm talking about?

I was a "good girl," mostly obedient and trying to please those in charge. I've come to the conclusion that obedient children will have it so much harder later in life. I wish I had been rebellious. That I had questioned what I was being told as "the truth" and that I had spoken up for myself! Instead I was a silent receiver of anything and everything. That said, I always knew my own personal truth, but I learned to hide it and hide it well. It's still hard for me to let it out, to show my true colors, especially around those who have known me all my life.

Those old tapes - those familiar voices that only exist in my head anymore, those comments that were made on the fly by someone, long forgotten by them, but forever remembered and internalized by me - I know they lie to me, but a little part of me always wonders if they aren't true after all. They compare me to others (never favorably), they question my value as a human, they criticize my body (oh, do they ever criticize my body - that's going to be a whole other blog post), they make me think that no matter what, it's never enough and never ever good enough.

By now those voices of people from days past have become my own voice in the present and I find it hard to sort out what is really me and what was simply dumped on me. When I got older, I did realize that those adults around me were mostly clueless when it came to life, but those messages were already in my brain, eating away at my self-confidence, making me doubt myself every step of the way.

I watch people who are confident in who they are, who are freely themselves no matter how weird, who love themselves ... and I wonder what that would feel like.  I wonder if I'll ever get there.

I will have family visiting in a few weeks and I am so excited about that. But that nagging part of myself is wondering if I'll be "perfect" enough. Will I fall short of expectations? Stupid, right? I know, but still...

A dear friend of mine is writing a book on perfectionism and we've had some great conversations. I realize that much of my perfectionism was birthed in Kindergarten and elementary school. My teachers had such an impact on me - and not a good one. I learned to do everything just so, to follow the rules, not to question, to be quiet and to always color inside the lines. That's how I've lived most of my life!

I think my way of painting is helping me undo a lot of that early damage! Instead of coloring inside the lines I paint with brilliant colors mixing and flowing and overlapping. No lines. Much fluidity. Nothing predictable. A beautiful mess. And the animal spirits that appear on my canvases are helping me heal as I connect with them, helping me on my journey to uncover my true self.

Speaking of animal spirits, some of my greatest teachers are right here! Our pets are such wonderful examples for enjoying life, accepting what is right now, relaxing, loving and being playful. I think I'll cuddle Winslow for a while and then go play with color...

I wish for you a beautiful Wednesday and leave you with much love and appreciation!

❧ Silke
P.S. I should add (as pointed out by my sister, a most gifted elementary school teacher and beloved by her students) that I wasn't talking about teachers in general, just about the four I had in kindergarten and elementary school. They were of a different era and lessons were taught so differently than they are today...