“I suspect that wobbles are in-fact the experience of being a little less tethered, the process of growth and shifting identity.”
I had originally planned to write my re-debut blog post and debut Substack on trauma but instead I was indecisive and have landed on that exact topic instead- indecisiveness. I am not sure if I ever think myself as an indecisive person, but I have found myself lately having a wobble. Wobbles as I so fondly call them, are that jelly feeling; an odd mix of materiality but a lacking of something solid. Perhaps this wobble is a natural consequence of so much change and the big transition from bricks and mortar business to a roving one. Looking back most of my wobbles in life have co-occurred with change. Some have been more painful than others, or like this current one hitchhiking on very welcomed life events. All wobbles are slightly different but my current wobble seems to have one dominant side effect: indecisiveness.
I suspect that wobbles are in-fact the experience of being a little less tethered, the process of growth and shifting identity. We like to anchor our sense of selves, our purposes and meanings to many aspects of our lifestyle. A big shift in lifestyle, however welcomed, negates less anchorage.It has occurred to me, rather unsurprisingly, that the Sunflower and Ivy studio space was a core anchor or tether for by business. One of those hefty iron deals masterfully melded into a curved bow. Having a cosy creative sanctuary from which to work was a privilege and also an enormous amount of work during the years of Covid. Flourish it did, with a lot of sweat and tears and love. It allowed me to breathe abundance in a time that was full of anxiety and scarcity. It also accommodated the unpredictable nature of therapy work. With various rooms to move between and shelves of art materials to encourage the restless or the nervous, the studio itself supported the work I did individually, weaving with my energy to create what Sunflower and Ivy offered.
And well, it’s strange to be floating out at sea, my anchor left at port. I have the skills to make a new one should I wish. But at the moment I am curiously exploring what I have to offer in a new city and attending to other areas of my heart (perhaps for another post). Starting fresh and slowly has meant I have had more time to write and draw and reflect. I’ve finally stocked up on a long list of podcasts, some with up to a hundred episodes to delve into. I have time to create Instagram content beyond posting workshop pictures, and I can finally restart the blog. But there has been an incredible indecisiveness to accompany these much awaited things. Do I create content about art therapy, perhaps I can return to eco-art material advice, maybe I should be more consistent with art activity ideas. There is undoubtedly options and decisions.
I think when you create or share there is a natural expectation and hope that what your throw into the public roam will ripple in response. Online it can often feel like your speaking to a void, or frequently; a noisy room where everyone is trying to speak at once. Often there is very little response and whilst this is denting to ones ego it also fails to convey the potential impact that may be had. I think of all the times I have found seeds of wisdom, comfort and change through others offerings and how I meet that with stone silence. At best there is a sharing with a friend or a small electronic heart. Things that are life changing for me don’t make their way back to the author as a reply.
I sometimes wonder if my perception is what adds to my trial. I have been creative as long as I can remember and I have been brushing the surface of therapeutic paradigms for just shy of 10 years. And whilst there is a vastly deep pool of both to keep me learning, I can’t really be classified as a novice of either. So how do you discern if what you have to say, in something of relative familiarity, is fresh fodder or same old recital? When I was contemplating the effect of titling both my newsletter and blog Wobble, I contemplated other names the feeling and the experience could go by. Vulnerability, grief and adjustment all popped up. All of these feelings can increase painful self awareness. Change is a fruitful time to be mentally sharp, it’s helpful to be reflective and employ anything that has beneficial carryover whilst maintaining a lens for current and future times. Wobbles, when you start to put them in context make a lot of sense. I can’t say that they feel very comfortable nor are they my favourite place to be but I do take the silver lining. The core one for me being that whilst I may be endlessly questioning I am also rigorous and my comforts feel tenfold. This time round that has meant my art-making, its important to note that creativity doesn’t always accompany wobbles. Other times I have barely picked up a pencil, but this time I crave creating. There is an insatiably and it grounds me in a way that is surprising. Surprising because on first glance art making seems to require decisiveness and I haven’t had it in truckloads. But what I have been finding is that an indecisive approach to art making is in actual fact freeing and expansive.
It’s easy to think that art making in an indecisive mood is like standing at an ice-cream parlour and being stuck on what flavour to choose. In this mood, one can feel that they may in fact make the wrong choice. But art-making is like having daily access to try a different flavour. You can choose the same or opt for something wildly different knowing you can revisit the next hour or the next day.
Having a clear vision of your style and your go to art materials can be rewarding but it can also be limiting. I think a mix of both is helpful and as someone who previously held quite a rigid view of themselves as an artist and took an extended hiatus from painting, indecisiveness has actually been very welcomed. It has allowed me to see all the things I could do. There’s not just vanilla and cookies and cream but a load of other flavours to try. And some are really fun.
And whilst I may ruminate in my wobble and the changing services of my business, I am humbled by the fact that we are all just offering each other tiny puzzle fragments on each other’s journey. You never really know if the puzzle piece is assisting someone to start, a bridging piece or fitting nicely into those last few spaces, or perhaps it belongs to another puzzle entirely. I can embrace my wobbliness, knowing that it has a lot to offer.
