Hello again! I’m so grateful that you are back here with me.
When Slow Means Stop!
In my last post I wrote about Embracing the Slow. Little did I know that “slow” would soon mean “stop!”
If you have read my past posts, you know by now that I am a maker and I love to create. I can confidently say that I go through the same ups and downs of motivation, self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and identity-crises that almost all other artists go through. I’m also someone who lives with chronic pain. For me, this poses different challenges that intertwine with all the others. In this post I want to share how I cope when pain stops me from doing what I really want to do.
Looking back at my life, I realize that I have been coping with chronic pain for many years and I just didn’t have that name for it. I was finally diagnosed with Fibromyalgia (aka chronic pain, aka central sensitivity syndrome, aka a-big-hot-mess of symptoms) only a handful of months ago and my understanding of how to cope with chronic pain is still in its early stages. However, there is something I think everyone reading this post should know, whether or not you live with chronic pain yourself or know someone who does. It’s this: everyone’s experience of pain and chronic pain is unique to them. So whatever I describe about how I cope must be viewed in this light. I can’t tell you what will work for you. You will need to find that out for yourself. And my “advice” should not replace the care you can receive from both your medical doctor and your therapist.1 I do hope, however, that in reading about my personal experience with chronic pain, you will increase your empathy for people who live with chronic pain - especially if that person is you! If you live with chronic pain I want you to know that you are not alone.
Giving Myself the Gift of Time
A month ago I decided to give myself time and space to reflect on my creative life and set new creative goals for the year. I decided that a break from social media would help me accomplish this. My vision went something like this: I would relax into a wonderful routine of making art by day and doing visible mending by night - all while listening to awesome podcasts and historical romances on audiobook! Instead of suffering the FOMO (the fear of missing out) I would embrace the JOMO (the joy of missing out). I wish I could tell you that my month was fruitful. It wasn’t. At least, not in the way I originally imagined.
I value the community I’ve built on social media so before stepping away, I announced and explained my reasons. Then, I removed the app from my phone. I expected that as soon as I did this, I would feel a sense of spaciousness and ease. And I did feel this, but I also felt something else: a tension. And with this feeling I noticed a thought. As soon as I stepped away I thought, “And I better have something to show for all this time!”
Later, while in conversation with my therapist, I said, “I don’t even know what to name this thought.” They answered, “I know what to call it. I think it’s the Productivity Police.” As the daughter of immigrants, I can understand where this valuation of productivity, of not “wasting” time, came from. Thankfully, I know that I don’t need to listen to it. I could make my break as “productive” or not as I wanted to.
What Really Happened During My Break
Understanding that to “have something to show” for my time would be ideal and not essential, I dove right into realizing my vision. For the next three days I made art every morning and I joyfully made a mend or two on my found quilt every night (while listening to Rosamund Pike narrate Robert Jordan’s, The Eye of the World2).
Every night I noticed that my hand was tired but each morning for three days my hand was “fine” again. On the 4th morning, however, it was different. On the 4th morning, my hand ached more than the night before. The tingling in my fingers alerted me that I had inflamed my carpel tunnel. Again!
Experience has taught me that the remedy for this is rest. I could do no drawing, no painting, no mending. I wish I could say that, having experienced this sequence of events before, I faced it with equanimity. I didn’t. Not at first. In fact, that 4th morning, I hosted a one-woman pity party and had a good ol’ cry. After all, this was supposed to be my month to take a deep dive into my art practice and here I was, at the very start, already experiencing a set-back. When the tears and pity ran out I was ready to face reality in a more optimistic frame of mind. It was only the beginning of the month after all. And I wasn’t without options.
Here’s something else I’ve learned from past experience: I don’t need my dominant hand to make art! I may not be able to do things like sewing, or knitting, or crochet without my dominant hand, but I can still make art. It turns out that I can also write decently too - if I slooooooow down.
It took me nearly two weeks to recover, which is to say, two weeks for the pain to ebb to the point where I was brave enough to try again. When I did try again, the pain came back. So I had to rest some more. In the meantime I still made art. I did this by continuing to use my left hand, my non-dominant hand. The key to happiness, for me, was in my expectations.
As you can see from my photo above, drawing with my left hand still resulted in a recognizable drawing. I like it for its looseness. Every morning I practice my drawing skills. I practice representational drawing because I also draw in a nature journal3 and because drawing, for me, is really about learning to observe. Achieving an accurate drawing is only secondary to the practice of observing my world. This is why left-handed drawing still pleases me and serves its purpose.
I can also enjoy left-handed painting! Right now, in my art practice, I am fascinated with watercolors and how the colors mix and mingle - achieving pleasing effects - without much effort on my part. The spread of thumbnails above (I call them color play or color explorations or just “blobs”) is an example of what I like to do when I want to do something relaxing. I used to do this with my right hand all the time. Now, as it turns out, I can do it when I need to give my right hand a rest as well. Using my left hand, I work slower and spend more time watching the color and paint “play” on the paper. Which is a benefit in itself. It’s like a little mini meditation aid. As long as I adjust my expectations and keep my mind open to whatever arises, I can feel joy in making this art.
Last night I decided to try drawing lines with my left hand over thumbnails painted with my left-hand. I found that as long as I moved slowly, I could achieve enough control to make marks that were pleasing to me. The aim of the above practice was to explore the marks I could make with my Pentel brushpen. It was lots of fun.
Advice Time
There is a LOT about Fibromyalgia and chronic pain in the inter-webs but I only want to highlight one thing - the reality that emotions play a big part in how we experience pain4. Fibromyalgia symptoms include experiences of depression, anxiety, insomnia and fatigue. Art is something that lifts my mood, calms my mind before bedtime, and contributes to my overall mental and emotional well-being. I NEED my art to help treat my Fibromyalgia. If making art results in pain, how do I treat the pain? It’s a conundrum that needs a solution. Turns out, for me, it’s continuing to make art, just on different terms with my body. My mantra has been, “there is no art without my body.” So first, I am learning to pay better attention to my body.
I am STILL learning what will cause my pain to flair up. So giving myself empathy and grace to make mistakes is key. I’ve learned obvious ways to care for my body too - like making sure I walk every day, practice good sleep hygiene, avoid alcohol, and avoid toxic people and situations. I do a bunch of whole body stretches as well as special stretches for my hand and arm.
Circling back to my statement, “when pain stops me from doing what I really want to do.” It is true that I have ambitions for my art that require me to use my right hand and that it’s a compromise to use my left hand. I don’t want to give the impression that there isn’t a measure of grieving because of this. There certainly is. I just want to convey that adjusting my expectations is what keeps me from despair. Continuing to make art also helps me grieve5. I can’t get back my younger, stronger body, but I can still have an art practice.
After writing all about using my left hand to continue making art, I think that I might adopt left-handed painting and drawing as a regular practice, not just when my dominant hand is hurting. I still want to achieve the detail and control possible with my right hand, as with sewing and knitting, but it is a relief to learn that I can still have an art practice using my non-dominant hand. Who knows, with enough practice I might become ambidextrous? In 10 years maybe. Haha!
If you experience chronic pain or if you have an adaptation to your art practice that you do when you are tired, I’d love to hear about how you cope. It’s good to know that we are not alone. I am open to trying new things.
Thanks again for taking the time to read this newsletter. I hope you join me next time. If you know someone who might appreciate reading it I hope you will share it with that person.
For now, this is a monthly publication. I hope that, as I get the hang of things, I can publish twice a month. Or not. I’ll just have to let my body lead as usual. If you want to hear more about my making life I hope you will subscribe. It’s free!
For a great place to start in understanding chronic pain I recommend Ologies Podcast Episode 229
I thought there was too much non-action, too many mopey boy-men scenes and too many scenes where the strong women were at unnecessary odds with each other. I think the TV show, though not perfect by a long shot, is much better! Sorry WoT/Robert Jordan fans.
My nature journaling page on Instagram is @alma.walks.in.nature.
If you haven’t already, go listen to the Ologies Podcast Episode 229 now in which Dr. Rachel Zoffness spends a lot of time repeating that pain is bio-psycho-social.
The difference between grieving and depression is, I believe, that depression keeps me stuck while grieving helps me to move on.
Excellent post! Also I really love the pieces you made with your leftt hand. I'm learning to mouse with my non-dominant left hand as well because of some issues with my right hand and it only took me 3 days to feel pretty confident with it. I think it's not too wild of an idea to get both our hands doing some stuff and give our dominant hand a little break once in a while.
"mopey boy-men" haha That is SO true. I listened to the first couple of WoT books a very long time ago. I enjoyed them, but not enough to read or listen to the rest.
I am starting to get recurring pain in my hands from time to time. Sometimes it seems random, and other times I can pinpoint too much repetitive activity. Resting, and taking care of what I do with them helps after a while, but it does mean NOT doing some things. I love how you've embraced it and found a way to continue making art, even when the odds seem against you.