"Our fear does not arise when we think about the future, but because we want to control it." ~ Kahlil Gibran
Fear has followed me for years like a lost dog looking for a bone.
I feel it most acutely when I am worried about my health or the health of my daughter. I notice a strange rash or have an unusual feeling and suddenly: panic!
My worries are not limited to health concerns, however, and my reflections have turned towards fear of the future of the world, worries about my finances and fears that I am not good enough.
Is my fear justified? My mind tells me it is.
“Do you remember how badly you reacted to a drug? It could happen again! "
“Do you know how your daughter had this febrile attack two years ago? You never know what might happen next! "
“Think back to that time when you and your family had a slow winter and were very worried about money. That could be just around the corner! "
And on and on I go on. I know I shouldn't believe what it's telling me, but sometimes I get sucked in and can't do anything about it.
I don't think I was that concerned as a kid. I think this underpinning of nervousness started when I was older, probably in my late twenties. I suppose by then I'd lived enough to know that things can and can go wrong.
I don't like to feel scared. I don't like the way my body feels nervous and my mind races. I don't like it when I can't focus on what to do.
But this is not a sad story, but a story of tiny improvements and small steps forward. It's a journey to find peace in the middle of a storm.
For me, this peace began with painting.
Let me go back a few decades, back to when fear wasn't part of my life. When I was a kid I loved art. I drew, I colored, I took extra art classes on the weekends because I enjoyed it.
I went to college to be an art teacher and later switched to a graphic design track. When I finished school in May 2001, I was working part time as a designer and after the events of September 2001 I knew I had to travel to get out of the safe life that I was living in my hometown.
Then my creative practices fell by the wayside. I would never give up those years of traveling and camping and working in random jobs, but when I look back I see that this is where I stopped making art.
Fortunately, after the birth of my daughter in 2014, the desire for creation came back. First, I used a tiny corner of a bedroom in our little tenement on a mountain top to paint. Eventually we bought a house and I had the space to spread out, keep my supplies on my desk, and ready to paint whenever the urge came.
Then I noticed something important: painting calmed me down in a way that did nothing else. It has alleviated my fears and anxieties in ways that other practices (deep breathing, meditating) didn't, at least not as consistently.
Painting is my peaceful place. Painting brings me right into the moment quickly and easily. Do you know how to stay alert and present? That's what painting means to me, no tips or tricks or timers or mantras required.
Yes, I use other methods to suppress my fear, but painting is my absolute favorite. I can create something new. I can flow wherever the brush takes me. I'll still be inside while the rest of the world falls away while I create something beautiful.
When anxious thoughts start to swirl, I know what to do. I go to my studio, grab some materials and start creating. Soon enough the spiraling worries will be gone and instead my mind will be calm.
Even if you are not artistic, even if you do not have a creative bone in your body, I still think that you can achieve the stillness that I achieve in painting. However, you may not have a brush in hand!
First things first, if you are struggling with anxiety it is a good idea to contact a licensed professional. As helpful as painting is, I also see a counselor, and the tools she has given me are absolutely priceless.
With that out of the way, here are the other ways I think silence and peace can be found even if you don't meditate or take deep breaths as you count to ten.
Think back to what brought you joy and the feeling of flowing as a child. Maybe for you it was a sport or a musical instrument; Write your own sketches or train your dog to roll over. Whatever it was, start looking for ways you can bring more of it back into your life now.
Pay attention to your adult life and the activities that make you lose track of time. When are you fully immersed? When do you let go completely Maybe it is during a yoga or meditation class, but maybe it is when you are preparing a meal for your family or setting a budget for work.
Still in thought if you remember. I do this now, especially when I'm not painting. I know that a quiet mind lets go of my fear, and I also know that I cannot paint every hour of the day. Just noticing the feeling of my body in the chair below or listening to the noises in the room around me will calm my mind.
I think the reason that painting is so helpful for my fear is that I have to worry about the future and its future in order to be anxious. When I'm doing an activity that requires my full concentration, I have to be in the moment. there is no other choice.
All the practices that we can use to find calm, whether it is changing our thoughts, following our breath, repeating a prayer or a mantra, are all based on the same thing: our presence in the now bring to.
Which activity brings you into the now? How do you feel alive and connected to the moment? It doesn't matter if you are artistic. It doesn't matter if you enjoy doing things. The only thing that matters is finding a way to be here in the now rather than in the unknowable future.
** Graphic by the author Jen Picicci
About Jen Picicci
Jen Picicci is an artist and writer living in the mountains of western North Carolina. She creates joyful, soul-lifting works of art available on cards, magazines, and more. She also teaches how to create something from within. To see her work, follow her on social media, or download free murals, visit www.JenPicicci.com.
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