In the last column, we looked at denial as a way of coping with conflict about being an artist, and today we are looking at distraction as a way of avoiding expressing ourselves creatively.
Damon Young, philosopher, states, “Distraction is chiefly an inability to identify, attend to or attain what is valuable.”
In previous columns, those who paint and are known as artists, describe having support in the formative years, even the modelling of being an artist by a parent. They were not separated from their creativity because their art was identified, attended to, and seen as valuable to them and to those who supported and encouraged them.
This was not the case for many of us. At an age when mirroring was so important – see me, see what I can do, watch me – and when fitting in and being approved of were all that mattered, the discovery that elements of our makeup were wholly unacceptable; was an extremely painful experience.
It forced us to give up what is valuable to us, and we learned to hide out in “thinking” in order to avoid “feeling,” overwhelmingly difficult feelings of disappointment, confusion, outrage, boredom, forced isolation, hopelessness and powerlessness.
Distraction was once a blessing, keeping us from the dreaded energies of curiosity and imagination that got us into trouble and helping us to avoid the pitfalls of “being” while seemingly safe in the illusion of “doing.”
Distraction allowed us to survive acute distress but in terms of chronic distress, distraction becomes a way of life.
It interferes entirely with ensuing developmental stages and obliges the brain to operate in a lopsided manner, out of alignment.
Art and any forms of creativity may seem to be dangerous, primarily because we forget about time and what is supposed to be valuable.
We are transported to another state of consciousness, where interruptions are hard to tolerate and it is unpleasant to come back to reality.
We are seemingly out of control, when in fact we are out of over control.
It is not art that is dangerous, it is remembering our own values and priorities that is the danger zone, so it seems best to avoid the whole thing.
And so we don’t paint, citing chores, time and the endless to-do lists as some of the many socially acceptable rationalizations.
Imagine, if you will, a picture showing an easel, a fresh canvas ready for use, paints to hand, in front of a window, which gives good light. What is your first thought that comes to mind? Can you hear distraction in your thinking?
Do you remember the joy of making manifest something that didn’t exist before you created it? If you are older or are around older people, you will have noticed that perplexed look that says, “What did I come in here for? I don’t remember.”
There is much more at stake than being an artist. We might not be motivated to give up distraction, not understanding what it is costing us.
But I think it is important to bring it to consciousness before there is no consciousness to bring it to.
Like a candle in the wind. But the candle is still there, just not lit.
The focus of the next, and penultimate, column, is looking at a change from surviving to thriving.
If you would like to talk about your art or comment on what you see here or would like to see here, we can be reached by email.
-submitted by Jena Davies
