I took a leap. I jumped out of the comfort of a city I had immersed myself in for over a decade. I chose to remove myself from all of this, away from all the familiarity and away from all my friends who I had spent years propagating. It was enlightening to realize several parts of myself were expressed and dispersed into various sub-communities there. I truly felt I had significance in so many areas. Yet, I still chose to leave it all. I chose to explore a lifestyle totally new. I agreed to completely isolate from all that I was used to.
It was just before the second rise of the pandemic that my entire body was screaming for this need to remove myself from the city and into the woods. My body cringed and my heart was pinned by the city buzz and consistency of sirens. Even the ringing of silence struck my nervous system because of its rarity. I became claustrophobic by the collective isolation and found myself crawling out of my skin. With my head filled with headaches, and my breath cutting short, my entire being knew it was time to make a move. I grew an insatiable desire for change, while the certainty was uncanny. Empowered by the thought of returning to my roots, I was ready to sew the seeds of potentiality.
The Landing
Tucked away up the Sechelt inlet and surrounded by trees, I began to sink into my new environment. My breath slowly returned. Among this phase of finding my footing, I had fallen with focus and aimed for all my dreams to come true. “Trust the universe,” & "all will fall into place as it should,” were the perfect phrases that held me as I took this leap. However, as I had landed and attempted to find my new rhythm, I learned quickly that I needed to shift the phrase into an essential reminder to “trust the process”.
All my fears and worries came in as a delayed reaction. My insecurities and senses of doubt flooded me like never before. Moments of feeling lost, moments of losing belief in myself, and moments of great overwhelm wiped me out like a tidal wave.
Perhaps what this really means is that this drastic decision I just made in my life actually carries depth, meaning and intention. Perhaps this resistance is showing up because what is about to happen is far greater than me.
I need to trust that whatever shows up in my journey is all part of the process. I need to embrace the openness I currently have and the lack of structure. Though this can be quite uncomfortable for me, I’m also needing to find the comfort within the discomfort. Scrounging for the sweet breaths of peace, I need to embrace the uncertainty by accepting all the different waves of emotions along the way. I need to honour this space as an incubator, filling it with nutrients of hope and love.
As I melt into this sense of honouring my process into private practice, I remember what my thesis advisor from school would tell me, “write about the process,” “expose your process”. I remember the cleansing nourishment I gained from exposing parts of my thesis writing and researching process in the form of self reflection. I remember how deeply therapeutic that was for me. Again, I am reminded of the power of artful expression.
As I sift through the grains of darkness I soften into the significance of my humane experiences. Yes I am a professional. I am skilled. I am a counsellor and an expressive arts therapist. AND, I am also human navigating all my very own ups and downs.
So why not let more people into my world?
The Art of Exposure is an interactive blog to not only give voice to my subconscious, but to also create more bridges of relatedness with all who stumble on these jumbles of words.
As you expose your truth and what your process looks like along this path of life, you practice deepening your honesty to your authentic self. It is courageous to be honest, and it can be scary, but, without fail, the arts help us expose what is often hidden and allows us to creatively engage with our truths and our challenges. The more you practice this artful exposure, the clearer your skies. The more you release, the more you’re able to detach and rebuild. Less of your past stands in your way, and more of your present self takes up space.
Photography by: The Portrait Sessions
