Colour therapy is a thing.
A few years ago, I met an incredible set of folk who encouraged taking breaks from work to colour and release tension and stress.
We were part of a functional work unit that actually liked each other. Lol.
It’s funny because when we checked it out, each of us has a hard time liking people we work with (in some instances).
But I digress.
We instituted (from the jump) that we would have mandatory colour therapy sessions in the middle of the work day when our boss drove us up the wall, when deadlines for major reports were fast approaching or when we were just having a hard time.
If we had to colour, we just had to colour, damnit!
The experience with that unit was a marvelous one.
Colour on colour on colour
The colour therapy sessions worked and we were able to optimally function. If you didn’t know, Psychologists and Psychiatrists prescribe this type of therapy to their patients going through hard times.
So a little self prescription doesn’t hurt….at least, I don’t think it does.
It dawned on me that I have not been colouring and I needed to rekindle this practise.
I am reminded by my recent journey of self love and plant watering that I am a colourful crayon and even though there are times when I feel broken, my colour remains.
You know what that means?
It means that I can still colour while on this journey. It may take me longer to brighten some spaces and I may colour differently. But, I can still add colour to my spaces and I can still colour my life.
Being boxed in
Why wasn’t I colouring? I was boxing myself in.
I had a chat with a friend recently and we spoke about labels. He hates them – as do I.
Labels tend to box us in and limit all that we are capable of doing.
My labels? “Sad” and “Broken”.
I initially gave them to myself and realised that others fed from that.
The more I said it, the more the box shrunk and the darker it became.
So guess what?
People called me “sad” and “broken”.
Even though I’ve feel this way, it doesn’t mean that that’s all I am.
With new found thinking, I am no longer just sad or just broken.
I am not my label, i’m so much more.
With new found thinking, it’s become easier to break the box. With each step, colour seeps in.
Words from the maternal unit
As I work to break my box, I’m feeding into positivity being shared by my mother.
My mom (bless her heart) does this thing where she tells me how not broken I am. She also does this thing where she tells me that sad is not a state I will stay in forever.
My self watering has shown me that my mom is right.
Mother knows best, after all.
More to come as I embark on this watering, sun filled and colourful journey.
Signed in living colour,
2 Comments Add yours
And even dark colours can be beautiful!
I can so relate to “colouring therapy”.
Let us always remember; broken crayons still colours.