TheBanyanTree: In Search of the Light

[pat.martin]

In Search of the Light
by Pat Martin

(960 words)

 

 

If a series of paintings represented my life, the dark colors of fear and pain would overshadow the first.  My childhood wasn't pretty and not many would stop to view it.  

A hodgepodge of colors and mediums would illustrate my teens and early twenties as I settled on a style.  Without continuity and a clear direction, it, too, would hardly garner a passing glance.  "No focus," the critics would say as they moved past it.

By twenty-five, though, I had found my niche, and my life would appear as a pleasant pen and ink drawing overlaid with watercolors in calming shades.  A traditional piece of art, it would appeal to many people.  Perceptive observers, however, would note the perfect lines and the painstaking effort taken to stay within them, the efforts of someone trying too hard.  A sensitive person would see it wasn't much fun to paint.  

My current portrait communicates a fresh perspective.  The boundaries that previously defined me have blurred and free-flowing brushstrokes of vibrant color dominate the scene.  Today, I am a fifty-year-old woman who listens to her inner voice rather than the society-imposed 'shoulds' and 'should nots' that guided me in the past. Sometimes I am in awe of this new person I am becoming.  Other times my feelings and actions confound me. 

For more than two decades, I was caught up in my role as wife and mother, setting aside my own needs in order to do what was best for the family.  Giving my only child, Michelle, the stability, love, and encouragement I needed but didn't receive as a child, became my top priority.

            In September 2002, a happy, self-confident young woman with a wealth of friends and an all-things-are-possible attitude moved out-of-town to attend university.  With my daughter's departure, my life changed irrevocably as my focus swiveled inwards.  There, I discovered unimaginable new facets to my personality: bright spots that overpowered the lack-luster hues of the past twenty years.  

I had always been a quiet, introspective person, unwilling to try anything risky.  While growing up, I had my fill of fear, and couldn't imagine voluntarily doing anything to provoke it.  No matter the cost, I avoided confrontation.  I lacked spontaneity, found safety in routine, and used logic to make decisions.

While vacationing in the Yucatan in February 2003, I rediscovered my sense of adventure when I participated in several activities that terrified me: paddling a kayak down a crocodile-inhabited river, swimming in an underground lake, zip-lining across a ravine, and rappelling down a 65-foot cliff.  Afterwards, I felt incredibly alive.  Confronting my fear allowed me to cast off my self-limiting beliefs.  Standing at the top of a Mayan pyramid with the breeze in my face and a panoramic view of the rainforest, I woke up to life's possibilities.  

When I returned to my high-stress, government job in Canada, my bolstered self-esteem made it easier for me to set boundaries. Less than a week later, when treated unfairly at work I exploded and walked out.  This, after six years of near-perfect performance appraisals, shocked me just as much as it did my employer.  Leaving my job was best, I had been unhappy for years, yet my mind reeled at what I had done.  It took me months to forgive myself for my unprecedented burst of temper, never mind I had let go of the best-paying job of my career.  

Spring 2004, nearly a year later, I am stronger.  I am 'me' but I am more than 'me' and the portrait of my life is infused with luminous shades that draw the eye: sapphire blue, emerald green, ruby red, and shimmering gold. I am free-form abstraction rather than conventional art.  I feel as if a divine force is guiding me.

Without the pressures of work, I have had time to look at my marriage.  When I said, "I do," twenty-three years ago, I had low self-esteem, a legacy of the severe child abuse I experienced.  In contrast, my husband Andrew was the privileged son of the Head State Attorney, the top lawyer for the South African government.  He grew up in a male-dominated society with servants, where a man's only responsibility was to bring in a pay cheque.  I grew up in Canada and believed in equality of the sexes. He expected subservience; I refused to give it.  Because of cultural differences alone, our marriage hasn't been easy.  

Our problems were further compounded because I was unwilling to stop growing and Andrew didn't want me to change. In spite of him, I gained confidence.  After much hard work, I am at ease with myself; I like 'me'.  

At this time, even my marriage is in transition.  I have no idea where I'll be a year from now and sort through future scenarios in the same way an artist might choose a color from his palette.  Will it enhance the picture?  Does it reflect my vision?  What emotions does it evoke? 

Until recently, I allowed society's expectations to guide me.  No more.  I climbed the corporate ladder and I chose to get off.  People say I am a success but I have discovered my own truth.  Material possessions mean little; happiness can't be bought.  Being able to love, and share that love with others brings me the most joy. 

In the fall, I will travel to Guatemala to do voluntary work.  There, I will be able to do what I do best: wrap my arms around anyone who needs a hug and say, "You are beautiful.  You are loved."  

I want to make a difference.

My latest picture is far different from the others, but it is more authentic.  To complete it, I will choose rich colors and radiance.  I will allow my heart to guide me.