I came across these words in an article this morning: “powerful, significant, and elevating.”
Those are mighty words. They have heft, substance, and to me – hopefulness.
In fact, those words feel just right when it comes to seeking meaning in life – beyond the material and the mechanical, or the daily routine that may be pleasant enough, yet we feel we’re missing something.
Couldn’t we say that everyone seeks meaning in their own way? Aren’t most of us brimming with ideas and idealism as children? Isn’t that the time when imagination floats freely – and with it – a naive sort of power?
But life tosses us obstacles. So we navigate, we mature, we compromise, and we learn. If we’re lucky, we retain imagination and enthusiasm though we carry our heavy load of adult responsibilities.
Making Meaning of Adversity
For some, events may stop us cold – even as children. Or, they stall us for a time, we work through them, and we keep going as best we can, guided by those who love and care for us.
Sometimes, we’re guided by something else – some other source. Perhaps it’s spiritual. Perhaps it’s creative. Whatever it is, we find it “powerful, significant, and elevating.”
Those words? I read them in a column on Huffington Post, by Michael B. Friedman, LMSW, writing on Art and Mental Health. Mr. Friedman speaks to our search for meaning, enjoyment, and connection. The arts are one way to find that connection, whether through participation or observation.
Explaining how visual art may serve those who are “healthy” as well as those who suffer mental disorders, he points out:
…everyone who appreciates some sort of art experiences through it something powerful, significant, and elevating.
And in my own experience, I wholeheartedly agree.
Passions
I’m not sure whether we choose our passions or they choose us. What I do know is that I’m grateful to know my passions, and they are two-fold: writing and visual art. I “make” the former, and experience the latter.
When I am sorrowful, uncertain, disoriented or out of sorts, I turn to words to write out the emotions and make sense of them. In doing so, I also make sense of me. When I am joyful, excited, content – I also write out the experience – as a way to snapshot the moments and to feel them more fully.
When I’m standing in front of a gorgeous work of art? I am transported. If I ache, I’m consoled. If I’m fatigued, the colors and surfaces energize me.
For some, this may seem odd. For me, it’s a natural form of healing, learning, and celebrating. The experience is undeniably “powerful, significant, and elevating.”
Making Art
In the first years after divorce, my younger son withdrew into himself. He wasn’t a talkative child to start with, but he was a happy one – always a crayon or pencil or brush in hand. And that changed. His quiet was heavier and unsettling. The self-portraits he drew took a darker turn; sketch after sketch revealed a child who was angry, bewildered, and bereft.
As a parent, I was desperate to reach him and console him – difficult to do when he wouldn’t articulate his feelings and frankly, I was barely hanging on myself.
As a mother, I could only observe, hold him in my arms at night, and reassure him by participating in the refrain that threaded through our days for years: “I love you Mom,” he would say, to which I would respond, “I love you, too, Sweetie.”
Through his art, I was able to gauge what he couldn’t put into words. I was able to see the progression through his grieving the loss of our “stable family,” and over time his art reflected healing. I was relieved when the self-portraits took a more playful turn, and his subject matter included comic characters, his larger world of school and friends, and his former sense of humor.
Art and Well-Being
Art may not be your thing. Writing may not be your thing. Perhaps you find music transcendent, or dance, or some other creative outlet.
For me – and clearly for my son – our soothing art is visual. It is a channel for sadness as well as exuberance. It is a way to be fully in a moment, and also to come to terms with it.
Mr. Friedman goes on to say:
The contributions that art can make to psychological well-being via enjoyment, immersion, development of skill, revelation and expression of emotion, shaping of self, connections with people and a culture, and the potential for transcendent experience apply both to people without mental disorders and those with mental disorders…
In my own life, I’ve certainly experienced what he’s describing. I recommend this beautiful column, not only as it explores the interaction of creativity and well-being, but it opens up the line of questioning as to what each of us finds “powerful, significant, and elevating.”
And once our basic needs are met, don’t we all seek that?
Madgew says
Loved this one. I am an artist and writer and it is wonderful for clearing the soul.
lunaboogie says
As I get older, I find myself pondering these questions more and more and trying to weed out of my life what is NOT powerful, significant and elevating.
Being in “flow” mode is heady. It comes to me when I am playing violin alone, when I am in the process of cooking a fabulous meal and anticipating the joy of the company yet to arrive and when I find ways to surprise and delight the people I love. It comes when I am doing creative or artistic things, usually the unplanned and extemporaneous. I lose my self in painting pages in my journals. It comes to me in moments in the garden finding a new flower unfolding or a new green shoot unfurling. Today it came with the Calla Lily “Green Goddess”, a flower that has not shown itself in my garden for at least 3 years. What a delight! Yesterday it came during a drive in the rain, between clients, when I kept smiling and thinking how much I love my new job and the positive differences I am making in the quality of people’s lives. That is a powerful feeling, indeed.
After I turned 50, I realized that quality is far more important than quantity. Now I get sleep so I can perform at my best, be wider awake to take in the magic as it comes and slow down to enjoy moments and be truly present with the people I interact with.
BigLittleWolf says
That quality emphasis makes a difference, doesn’t it, Lunaboogie. The “flow.” Great way to word it.
Wolf Pascoe says
This sent me far and wide. I loved the breakdown of psychological well-being from Friedman’s Huff Post article: “positive emotion,” “engagement,” “accomplishment,” “positive relationships,” and “meaning.” i.e., feeling good about life, having something to do that you care so much about that you immerse yourself in it, becoming good enough at something to take some pride in it, having people in your life whom you care about and who care about you, and feeling connected with something that takes you beyond yourself.
BigLittleWolf says
I agree 100 percent, Wolf. I thought it was a terrific article, follow of practical wisdom.
PollyAnna says
Powerful, significant, and elevating…. oh, that is a gorgeous refrain. Thank you.
Swimming in the ocean or mountain lakes.
Poetry, especially the likes of Rumi and Mary Oliver.
And all kinds of writing.
BigLittleWolf says
PollyAnna, you touch on something else that takes us to that “zone” – the exertion of exercise – swimming, running, cycling. (And poetry! Yes.)