Art and Darkness

I remember being in college and writing a short story for a fiction class in which a character in my story described her fear of being seen. She said that she was afraid that she was like an envelope that had traveled around, unopened, and that when someone finally opened it, it was empty. It was my own fear of nothingness that I was writing about. The nothingness inside, the feeling of not being enough. Those were dark times. Struggling with depression, afraid to go out in the world. I think most college students get drunk on a regular basis, but I got drunk to feel comfortable in my own skin, or rather, to escape my own skin and become someone else. As I sit writing this in the Big Boy, (yes, that's my best option) drinking my coffee, I am reminded of those days. I was so tortured and spent many a late night in a coffee house or donut shop, writing about my angst. Mostly cynical, angry, dramatic poems or monologues which eventually became part of a play. Though I was pretty miserable back then, I was inspired to write. It was my only outlet for all the anguish I felt...the only expression that felt safe. And what at the time were just bits and pieces, random thoughts from a dark place, eventually became something more meaningful...they became art. Here I am, almost twenty years later, and I sit in a very different place. I fell in love and have been loved, unconditionally, by the most amazing person. But in love and contentment, I lost the desire to create, to write, to dance. I have spent many years trying to avoid darkness, to avoid depression, agitation or anxiety. What I see now is that discontentment really is a gift. It's an opportunity to grow, to evolve, to discover, to express, to create. Some of the most beautiful things have come from the darkness of our souls. The trick is to not get stuck in it...to sit in it, go with it, but know that it's temporary. And to be able to see the light that is shining on the flip side of that darkness. What I also see is that the depression and anxiety came from an inability to connect with my true self. My authentic self. It seems my whole life I've been trying to discover myself. I've sought therapy, spiritual practices, yoga...I've gone inward, I've analyzed, reflected. But it is only been in the last 10 years that I have actually realized all that I am, that I am most definitely NOT an empty envelope. It has been a long process but it was and is worth it. It sounds so cliche' but it is true that the answers do not lie outside of us, they lie within us. There's no secret formula to find them because we're all so unique. But when you find them, the ordinary becomes extraordinary. It doesn't mean you'll be happy all of the time, but you'll love even the moments when you aren't.