Gratitude for Time

 

I am filled with gratitude for all the blessings I have received this year. It has been quiet, unhurried, and tranquil for most parts, yet one of the richest I have experienced for a long time. 

As I stood before an audience of leaders last week and listened in to touching stories of their personal challenges and conviction, while clutching on to the paintings they created, I was overwhelmed. Or the clients who shared with me their fledging ability to cope better. Art, just like it has stirred me, has opened the hearts and souls of many, allowing them to find clarity and hope for their lives. Within the bellies of their imagination, people have created meaningful pictures and found new perspectives with art therapy.

When I made the decision five years ago to leave behind what I was doing and followed the desire for artistic expression and work with communities, I had no idea where the journey would lead. It felt like an irrepressible seed sown was pushing up from the ground. Rather fervently, it cracked the floor I was standing on. I had to give it a chance to grow.

And grown it has. Though still in infancy, I have settled into a new rhythm and some sturdy leaves have sprouted. Many days it’s simply watering. Rain or shine, I sit and nurture. Even on days when leaves are down to one, due to darn worms, snails, or harsh weather, I stubbornly soldier on. It has been said that the success of any artist is the faithfulness to create work whether there is any inspiration, whether the work is satisfactory or not. And the mantra of a therapist is to walk alongside the client, no matter if the client's situation ever improves.

These strategies, I have found to be transformative. For it is in the forming of an enduring relationship with my work, process, and people that brings forth magic, not quite the outcome in itself. The more painful and laborious the process, the more nebulous and distant the end result, the epiphany that greets me when things resolve is ever that sweet. And always a pleasant surprise. Holistic solutions are often not manipulated, manufactured or forced. They are perfected with mindful incubation and the passage of time.

And so, I have attained the rhythm of conscientious worms, who unfailingly come back for more, to dig deeper. Some patience of snails who carry their homes on their backs for, like me, they have yet no permanent abode. Waking each day, going through the same routine. Occasionally, unexpected packages arrive and make everything shiny and dandy. Otherwise, the process is simply enjoyable even when it gets really dawdling mundane. I have found that in slowness, I meet my creative inner being. In stillness, I hear my voice much better – directing me where I ought to go. Hullabaloo can be distracting, simplicity is elucidating.

The good news is, I think I can now toggle between being sloth-like and lightning-fast as the situation demands. This year has been a solid year of good training in emotional labor and precious time mining the depths of relationships. I am so very grateful for the chance to become ambidextrous. And really, just for the gift of time.

 

“All things pass…Perhaps the passage of time is a kind of healing, or a kind of salvation granted equally to all people” - Mizuki Nomura

 

Han Li June