ART THERAPY
I have to do art therapy while I’m incarcerated as an inpatient. I can’t begin to put into words how much I dreaded this concept. I even told the very lovely therapist how I feel about art therapy. She was very understanding – and surprised. Because no matter how I feel about the activity, I am here to immerse myself in all the therapies, regardless of my preconceived ideas.
Today we chose two random phrases and then journaled on those phrases: “The girl in the in the night garden” and “Brave”. Here is my story.
In the night garden, the girl sits alone.
Amid the stars that glitter with light and hope.
Beneath the trees that shelter with warmth and shade.
Beside the flowers that bloom with life and colour.
In the night garden, the girl sits alone.
Trapped in a body that grips her with fear.
Draped in a mood that subsumes her spirit.
Caught in thoughts that seek nought but destruction
In the night garden, the girls sits alone.
She hears the thumping of her beating heart.
She smells the fear of her very essence.
She feels the stone cold of the bench.
Shes sees the darkness that fills her spirit.
She tastes regret and disappointment.
In the night garden, the girl sits alone.
She searches inside for a glimmer of hope.
She reaches deep for a touch of purpose.
She explores her heart for human connections.
In the night garden, the girl stands.
She is tired. She has had enough.
She chooses courage.
In the night garden, the girls becomes brave.
In the night garden, the darkness fades.
The night girls stands, closes her eyes,
Breathes in the dawn of a new day.
With that breath the girl inhales hope.
She finds courage in the blooming light.
In the garden, the girls opens her eyes.
The night is gone.
The warmth of the blooming day offers a sense of peace that momentarily touches her heart.
The shade of the trees offers protection from the ebbs and flows of the vagaries of life.
The vibrancy of the flowers suggest beauty and a hope for the future.
In the morning garden, the girl allows courage to fill her spirit.
To surrender to the powers that empower her.
The courage buoying the fear and accepting failures.
In the morning garden, the brave girl is finally born.
Her truths embraced. Her dreams emboldened.
Her future envisioned.
In the night garden the girl grew brave.
Comments
I’d have preconceived ideas about this sort of thing too so I think I’d find myself pretty reluctant to do it. However, I think you have captured the thoughts & feelings painfully well here. I especially like the lines “Trapped in a body that grips her with fear. Draped in a mood that subsumes her spirit.”
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