Intuition Manifest: Putting Form to Feeling

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My Worker Self: Committee Suite “I Am the One Who Works but Forgets to Live”

I don’t remember what I was searching for the day I channeled my inner Alice and tumbled down the internet rabbit hole. All I know is that I fell far and fast and since that day I’m compelled to squirrel away magazines from waiting rooms or to visit every Goodwill on the Peninsula to peruse stacks of musty National Geographics. More likely than not, when I’m home alone you’ll find me surrounded by images torn from those magazines and an array of glue sticks, rubber cement, 5×8 inch mat board, xacto knives and scissors. Because the day my inner Alice tumbled, she landed at a place called SoulCollage®.

Brought to life several decades ago by a woman from Northern California named Seena Frost, SoulCollage® is an art form and visual journaling practice that requires nothing more than the ability to trust. But I am slow to open. Trust is something that, at times, I lack. 

Skepticism is not a trust issue, however, and it’s a personal characteristic I hold dear. My inherent skepticism compels me to question everything and keeps me from sipping the Kool Aid too soon. But maybe my skepticism has its own shadow side. Maybe it keeps me stuck (I should probably do a card on that!). 

It was a surprise when, on the day that I said “I am the one who…” for the first time, my ‘stuckness’ softened.

SoulCollage® touches on my love for art. It taps into my understanding of transpersonal psychology.  SoulCollage® pulls me from the sidelines and makes me an active participant in my spirit dance with interoception, intuition and gut instinct. SoulCollage® is a way to give form to feelings we experience but can’t always name.

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Stand and Smile, My Observer Self: Committee Suit “I Am the One Who Finds Humor in the Absurd”

Meanwhile, there’s my aversion to circles. You know the kind I mean – the ones where we sit around and talk about our feelings.  I found myself on the doorstep of SoulCollage® facilitator Beth Breedlove’s welcoming home for her introductory workshop this past September.  As other participants arrived we were asked to select a variety of images from three large Tupperware bins resting on card tables in her kitchen. We pulled one image from our collected bundle and then gathered in her light-filled living room.

Circles make me queasy. I wanted to bolt.

But this circle was different. Maybe it was Beth’s calm manner, or the beautiful Native American rattle we held when it was our turn to speak, or the air of curiosity in the room. Beth leads SoulCollage® workshops from her home on a regular basis and one or two of the women with us had participated before. But for most of the women everything was a brand new adventure. I tapped into that energy and let myself explore the unknown. I swallowed my skepticism, settled my soul and opened my mind.

Beth led by example. She held her image and began to speak, “I am the one who…” By the end, after all six of us had spoken, I was beginning to understand the potential of the practice. 

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My Great Uncle as Witness, Preparing for War: Transpersonal Card

But it’s difficult to explain, isn’t it? The experiential nature of SoulCollage® makes it difficult to define with words.

I decided it was best to arrive at the four-day SoulCollage® Facilitator Training at Dolce Hayes Mansion in San Jose, California a blank slate. After Beth’s workshop I continued to make cards at home but questioned not only what to do with them but if I was even making them ‘right’. So in the days leading up to the training I dropped any attachment I had to the story I’d told myself about the doors my training in San Jose might open.  I was excited, but it was an excitement tethered to the unknown.

I was honest. I wondered to myself if SoulCollage® was another angle on West Coast weirdness. On the afternoon of the first day I confessed out loud to my fellow trainees, our teacher Mirabella and her assistants, that I was skeptical, cynical and judging. We laughed, I explained my proclivity toward being skeptical and promised to shake off the rest.

But it wasn’t until our first chance to read our cards that I fully grasped the power each collage contained.

SoulCollage® channels the subconscious. It gives voice to aching silence. SoulCollage® allows us to find dreams believed to be lost, to chart a course, and to find comfort in the knowledge of discovering our own path.

It took a few days to process the enormity of what I discovered about myself in San Jose. Since then I’ve continued to make cards, to pull a card and to journal every morning. Until my facilitator training I was a morning news and coffee junkie. This new pattern brings peace and quiet contemplation to mornings that just a few months ago were loud and anxious.

SoulCollage® puts feeling into form. It transforms intuition from something like air – invisible and impossible to hold – into something seen and solid.

When we can honor our intuition by giving it shape and color, we honor our own truth.

 

 

 

     

 


Words, Walking and Making Art

One of the best things about my Spiritual Perspectives class are the projects we’re asked to complete. For example, on Tuesday I enjoyedAsh of a Lost Heart a three-hour walk as a meditation on the idea of ‘journey’. Today I began work on my spiritual autobiography. This project can take any form: song, essay, collage. We were asked simply to be authentic and inspired. I’m using the idea of reliquaries. I’m selecting one or two events from each decade of my life and creating an assemblage from found materials, text and photographs. The project is immensely challenging but creatively refreshing. Thinking in terms of symbols and images instead of words is a tonic for my brain.

It’s easy to look back on life and list by rote, “This happened and then that happened.” The challenge is to look back on life, remember the difficult moments and remember the astounding moments, too. And then contemplate how those moments transformed the spirit. Contemplate how those moments made you a better person. I’ve had so many stops and starts on the path – from a “Jesus-freak” in the 1970’s to a wannabe-atheist in the 1990’s. But in the past few years I’ve learned the lesson that so many of us have: that religion and spirituality are two very different things. I’ve learned that our journeys are intensely personal. I’ve learned that there is no one true path and that it’s all right to wander off the trail a bit from time to time.

I thought I’d share a bit of my essay about the walk I took on Tuesday.

Take ShelterThe wonderful thing about walking is that the rhythm of the foot falls become like a meditation. The chatter in the mind stops and the head suddenly has room to consider new ways of seeing. That happened to me around the two-hour mark. I remembered that, unlike all my other walks, this walk was different. This walk was not about non-stop movement. It was about a journey. A journey’s pace ebbs and flows, just like the tide. It slows down and it speeds up. Sometimes it even stops. And that’s what I did.

I stopped. Pedometer be damned I stopped right where I was. I looked across the water. I examined the banked earth for signs of burrowing owls. My eyes followed the small hawk who took off from the grass in front of me clutching her rodent lunch. And I took photographs of the bloated grey clouds blustering over the East Bay hills.

And nothing bad happened.

On our journey it’s fine to stop from time to time. To take it in. To witness from a fresh perspective. Today I was a witness.