The past few months have brought unexpected bad news and troubles in my everyday life. One morning in May I woke up at six am to the sound of banging right above me. There was demolition going on but my landlord didn't bother to alert me about his plans to redo the entire second floor. I was already on edge and my nerves were wearing thin as my nephew had been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. My brother called me one morning in March to say he just got the news. My nephew, Teddy was a vibrant man of forty two who had just gotten married last July. It was all so sudden and all so frightfully dismal the news. I went to visit Teddy in April and also got to see my family. At the time I firmly believed that Teddy would come through his illness. Soon after I returned to Mexico, his condition deteriorated and he passed away in early July. To top it all, my sister in law, Eileen had a stroke. There again my brother called to let me know. She was in upstate New York at the time having spent weeks by the side of Teddy. Had it not been for the unbearable noise above me I would have not planned to go somewhere. May was especially hot in Oaxaca and with banging and debris raining down into my patio and to my shower area and my bathroom, I was just bearing down day by day. Then I booked a flight to Mexico City initially anticipating to go for an artist residency but when I didn't get admitted I decided to go anyway and get away from the daily aggravation.
When I arrived in Mexico City it was already late at night. I checked in the hotel and went to bed. The next morning I could not get up. My body was aching from head to toe and I felt fatigue and depression weighing me down. I had no energy and no desire to move. For three days all I did was eat and sleep. Eventually, I began to take walks and explore the city. I also got back to work. Still, after two weeks in Mexico City I had not recovered. The fatigue lingered and the muscle pain in my neck and shoulders, the swelling in my legas and the back pain persisted. Eventually, I realized all these physical manifestations were the result of my distress and my grieving. I was holding everything inside and moving along from one day to the next, but my body was trying to slow me down, calling my attention to process my feelings.
I enrolled in art studio studying under two master artists, a lovely couple. It was the best thing that happened not only because it gives me a time and space for art three mornings a week, but also a means to decompress and find an uplifting focus that actually helps me to get my equilibrium.
Whether we soldier on or tough it out during times of adversity, the body does speak loud and clear. Even though I did not enroll in art studio to address my emotional distress it turned out to be therapeutic and healing. As I sit through my practice at realistic drawing and painting landscape there was much for both sides of my brain to engage in. Gradually the clouds drifted away and the din in my head was gone. I could hear my own thoughts and my posture even changed.
While I would not say that I have overcome distress, I definitely did triumph with resilience and optimism. I found myself back on track with stronger faith that all is well despite the loss, the sorrow and the pain.
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