Mandala Mondays-- Grieving to Healing
Quote to jour
"What goes around comes around."
I've never been more conflicted about posting a blog entry than today. Normally, I tread the middle path of laughter, lightness and truth. I share without stripping myself naked. There is humor and wisdom to be gleaned from of all of life's lessons. But what about the elephant in the room? The big awful truths like the death of loved one? The emotions behind the pain can fuel many a poem or novel, but words can filter the truth. When my father died, I couldn't write or journal. In the paralyzing numbness, I found a healing voice in drawing little circular drawings. My ego,(I'm a trained artist!) balked at calling these awkward and primitive drawings mandalas, but that's exactly what they were. It took simple pencil crayons and a blank notebook to begin my healing from grieving. Just about every day over the course of a year, I drew the mandalas. At first by hand and later with the help of a compass and templates. I didn't question how the process worked and found it best to keep analysis at bay. I kept doing them and gradually they changed into more sophisticated forms. As my confidence grew so did the size of the mandalas. The shapes and colors reflected the ebbs and tides of the healing process.
It's easy now as I look at them to analyze their meaning, but even after all these years, they remain powerful reminders of loss. I share them (now I do feel naked!) with the hope of inspiring others to try their hand at making mandalas regardless of your artistic ability or current issues.
Here are the very first four mandalas and a more recent one. The first mandala was made three days before my father died. He'd suffered a stroke and fell into a coma. I added the notations on the first page at a later date. The only writing consisted of five simple words: My father died this morning.
"What goes around comes around."
I've never been more conflicted about posting a blog entry than today. Normally, I tread the middle path of laughter, lightness and truth. I share without stripping myself naked. There is humor and wisdom to be gleaned from of all of life's lessons. But what about the elephant in the room? The big awful truths like the death of loved one? The emotions behind the pain can fuel many a poem or novel, but words can filter the truth. When my father died, I couldn't write or journal. In the paralyzing numbness, I found a healing voice in drawing little circular drawings. My ego,(I'm a trained artist!) balked at calling these awkward and primitive drawings mandalas, but that's exactly what they were. It took simple pencil crayons and a blank notebook to begin my healing from grieving. Just about every day over the course of a year, I drew the mandalas. At first by hand and later with the help of a compass and templates. I didn't question how the process worked and found it best to keep analysis at bay. I kept doing them and gradually they changed into more sophisticated forms. As my confidence grew so did the size of the mandalas. The shapes and colors reflected the ebbs and tides of the healing process.
It's easy now as I look at them to analyze their meaning, but even after all these years, they remain powerful reminders of loss. I share them (now I do feel naked!) with the hope of inspiring others to try their hand at making mandalas regardless of your artistic ability or current issues.
Here are the very first four mandalas and a more recent one. The first mandala was made three days before my father died. He'd suffered a stroke and fell into a coma. I added the notations on the first page at a later date. The only writing consisted of five simple words: My father died this morning.
Posted by Layla Morgan Wilde at 5/4/2009 12:55 PM 
Categories: Art, Spirituality
Tags: grieving to healing
Categories: Art, Spirituality
Tags: grieving to healing
Wow, what an interesting entry!!! The first time that I spontaneously found myself drawing something that resembled a mandala I was recovering from a horrible cold that lasted a week. They just kept pouring out of me on to the paper. Now it seems they were actually part of my healing process!!!
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Thanks, Laura! Yes, it is a spontaneous impulse in the Jungian sense.
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ooh sweetie... these are very beautiful... i'm sorry for your loss... the pain is just like yesterday... Bless you my friend...
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In my humble opinion one need not analyze loss or how we deal with it. It is an individual experience and each works through it in their own way. How wonderful that you have introduced this method of expression as I think it is good to express in some way, shape or form how we are feeling and let the emotions come out however they choose.
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I feel it's useful to analyze loss or we wouldn't have such treasures as Joan Didion's seminal book on grieving: The year Of Magical Thinking.
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Art in all it's forms is a marvelous tool for healing and transformation. I've never tried my hand at mandalas, although I have been toying with the idea of a medicine shield, which I believe would be very similar. I used to find hours of enjoyment with paper, sharpie marker and crayons though. I'd draw a design with the marker and spend the rest of the time coloring it with bright colors, like stained glass. I have also found more tactile art forms extremely stress relieving, like clay. Yep, whatever form you choose Art is an amazingly effective form of therapy! I've always enjoyed your beautiful mandalas, and now they will be just a bit deeper in meaning, brighter in color for all that you have shared here.
wishing you laughter, dearheart
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