Last week my therapist gave me an assignment; She wanted me to color. Seems simple enough right? It absolutely was not. I’ve been working to get past being fearful of what my future holds. I try to convince myself that I am good enough, and I can hear God’s instructions clearly. I’ve started to beef up my to do lists, I’m trying to create a schedule to make sure I do all the things I’m ‘supposed’ to do. I’m journaling more, reading more, trying to be present in my relationships, trying to be helpful and productive at work, trying, trying, trying, doing, doing, doing.
I’m constantly looking for order in my life and even in the lives of others. Order is how I’ve survived all these years. For me, the absence of order in my life has equaled complete and utter chaos both externally and internally. Since starting therapy almost 2 years ago I’ve been able to see and, in some areas, understand the weight of my traumatic experiences and how they shaped the person I was prior to therapy and the person I am now. I’ve found relief in journaling, sketching, painting, crafting, blogging, and so many other artistic activities. I love art and it relaxes me so when my therapist asked, “Do you like to color?” the answer was easy, “YES, I love to color!” The next statement threw me for a loop. She said, “Your homework assignment for this week is to color but, I want you to color outside the lines.” Not only was I confused, but I was also lowkey panicking so much so that I didn’t even bother to ask her why she wanted me to do this. After the initial shock hit and then settled, I told her that I didn’t like the assignment at all. I explained that I DO NOT color outside the lines, I trace the lines in the color that I’m using. I then color with my tool of choice in the same direction and make sure that the page color isn’t seeping through. She nodded and laughed and told me that she figured that I didn’t color outside the lines. She then added to the assignment; She told me to color things in colors that they shouldn’t be (i.e., color the grass red). Ugh, even now it makes me cringe.
The fact that I explained my coloring technique speaks volume now that I think back on it. I needed this assignment. It took me a couple of days, but I sat down to color (outside the lines). I had to be intentional about going over the lines, not coloring in the same direction, and picking up colors I wouldn’t normally use. Coloring became so hard in that moment on my couch with my Marvel Superheroes coloring book and colored pencils. I became anxious and nauseous. The more I tried to push past my heart beating faster, my face feeling flushed, and the knots in my stomach, the worse the nausea became. After a few minutes, I put the colored pencils down, closed the coloring book, and tried to calm down. I called my friend to update her on how the first attempt went and we agreed that there could be a plethora of reasons for this assignment being given to me, but it was crazy, nonetheless.
Coloring outside the lines was hard but understanding my reaction to it was harder. Why did the thought of coloring outside the lines make me anxious? Why did doing it send me spiraling emotionally and even make me feel sick? These questions plagued my mind for the entire day. I was mostly disturbed by the fact that coloring affected by feelings, emotions, and thoughts in this way. The next evening, I sat down to try again. This time, I finished the page and tried to focus on relaxing, breathing, and just coloring. I still struggled but I was able to grasp a little bit of clarity. I DO NOT COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES, not literally or figuratively, EVER. I look for order in people, places, and things and if I don’t see it, I must create it or get outta dodge. Things being out of place or off balance fluster me. People making the same choices that lead to pain or hurt repeatedly and not taking my advice to make better choices to yield more favorable results makes me cringe. Things being out of place in a store, restaurant, or anywhere else distract me to the point where I must fix it or leave. I’ll never forget the way my husband and kids made fun of me for fixing a faux Christmas Tree in KFC that had gaping holes from not being fluffed properly.
Prior to this assignment I would say that I couldn’t function well in chaos. Now that I’ve done the assignment, I realize that I don’t function well when I’m not in control. I’m a doer because it makes me feel like I’m in control and in turn comfortable. Even though this was only the beginning of what I believe is going to be pivotal in my healing journey, I get it. Giving up control allows people (including myself), places, and things to be who/what they are authentically. It’s OK to let things be out of place. It’s OK for people to choose the path that they want to walk. It’s OK for the Christmas Tree to have gaping holes in it. It’s Ok to post an imperfect blog. It’s OK to let God be in control and just go with the flow. The picture is still the picture no matter how it’s colored. For me, coloring outside the lines represents freedom and I plan to do more of it.
Writings on My Heart 