Bloom Foundation — A Nonprofit Dedicated To Girls Experiencing Bullying

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Healing Through Art

Written By: Priya Thomas

For so many of us, creativity is a lifeline when things get hard. Making beautiful things,

for no reason - scrapbooks, sculptures, stories, songs - reminds us of what is light and joyful,

even when our circumstances feel dark. For me, creative projects were safe havens when life felt

heavy and uncertain. I was always alert to the details of life that were lovely or strange or

mysterious, and I spent my free time gathering them up, collaging them into artwork. Whether it

was a story or a play or a mural, the act of creating filled me with a unique kind of energy.

Writing in particular became very important to me - it was escape, identity, freedom, comfort,

purpose.

Now, writing feels more complicated. Over the years it changed from something

whimsical and low-stakes into something pressured, self-conscious and competitive. If I was

going to be a writer, then my writing had to impress people! It had to be good enough for

magazines, agents, publishers. It had to stand out. Every time I would sit down to write a story -

or even just one sentence - my head would fill with all the boxes it needed to check: incisive,

lyrical, elegant, provocative, genuine, wise. Creativity became more about reading other people’s

minds (what do they want from me?) rather than exploring my own.

Fear of not being “good” enough is such a pervasive feeling - it applies to much more

than creativity. It bleeds into our social, academic, and professional lives. But it can be especially

frustrating in creative spaces because that’s where we’re supposed to be our most free,

unguarded selves. There’s a reason why so many therapists incorporate art into their practice - art

rejuvenates and heals us. It gives us permission to play, no matter how old we are.

So what do we do when we become our own worst critics? How can we find healing in

creative activities when we can’t stop doubting and comparing ourselves? How can we feel safe

enough to experiment, when the cost of failure feels so high?

One of my favorite sources of creative inspiration is journalist and author Elizabeth

Gilbert. In her book Big Magic, she describes the act of creating as “intracranial

jewelry-making.” She writes that no matter how marketable or “original” our art is, no matter

what it looks or sounds or feels like, “it’s still just decoration.” It’s decoration for the inside of

our minds. We’re already spending our whole lives in our minds - why not make them more

beautiful? Even if no one else ever sees, or offers their stamp of approval?

Here are some exercises to try, when you want to get creative but feel stuck:

1) Imagine you have a community of friends, family, and/or other artists who have already

wholeheartedly accepted you. You know they will celebrate whatever you create. They

value your unique style and sensibilities. What would you make, if they were your only

audience? What words, colors, music, etc. would you experiment with if the only goal

was to share a piece of yourself with them?

2) If imagining a whole community is too difficult, then just imagine one person. It could be

someone you already know - a friend, a mentor, or maybe even an artist in the public eye

that you admire. How would you want them to respond to your work? What are you

needing to hear, before you can feel confident enough to just let go and have fun? Now

get out a piece of paper and write those words to yourself.

3) Imagine yourself twenty years from now, thriving. That version of you is curious, playful,

self-forgiving - all the qualities you wish you had now. What would that older self say to

you? What has changed about her perspective - assuming she doesn’t have any more

material success than you? Write it down.

4) If you’ve been discouraged by rejection, write yourself an acceptance letter. It doesn’t

have to be from a particular person or place. It could just be from the universe, or from a

platform that you would create for yourself. For example, if you’re a writer, imagine you

could create your publishing house. What voices and messages would you want to

amplify? What would you look for that your current self is already creating?

No one can tell your story like you can. It’s okay if your creativity is quieter than others’. You

don’t have to have awards, titles, or huge social media followings to prove your ideas are

valuable - they already are. As wonderful as it feels to be recognized, remember that in the end,

your “intracranial jewelry-making” is for you. What colors, textures, and patterns do you want to

see? What would make the inside of your mind a more beautiful place to live?