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I hadn’t written or painted in ages. The thought of calling myself a writer or an artist was something I resisted. Was I allowed to? Who am I to call myself an artist or a writer?
This thinking led to me neither writing nor painting. Instead, I hid in a public administration job. This job – although secure – seemed more and more pointless to me every day. It cost me more and more energy. And finally – one day in February – it led to a nervous breakdown.
A New Beginning – Finding freedom again
The diagnosis: burnout! From a financial point of view, it was devastating for us as a family at first. We were dependent on the money. But at the same time, it was also a relief. My inner wounds were deep. The illness allowed me to finally recover.
A phase of absolute disconnection followed. I spent most of my time in bed. I was just exhausted, even though I didn’t do anything except for the bare necessities. The smallest tasks sapped all my energy and seemed like a giant menhir pressing me to the ground. The retreat to lick my wounds was and still is partly what I need, because I still haven’t fully recovered.
But I realise how important it is to just be with yourself and not succumb to external pressures. In retrospect, I see how important it was to just let myself go. Such a freeing experience.
To consciously let myself go! We are so conditioned in our society. We constantly perform at our best and completely lose sight of ourselves in the process.
Check out my other article. It’s called
Are We Slaves Of The Machine?
We forget ourselves. The machine, namely our societal system, wants to keep running. It wants to sustain itself and those who do not fuel its engine with their life energy are left behind. Left behind in fear, in disgrace and in the role of the outsider. This is an issue that touches me very much and often leaves me at a loss. But the machine is increasingly realising that people can’t do it anymore.
That they are exhausted and simply can no longer maintain the existing social system. Perhaps the time has simply come when they no longer want to. Perhaps a time has come to free ourselves from this machine.
Is it really the highest of feelings to sit in some office day after day, pumping yourself full of coffee and interacting with other people mainly through flickering screens? Chasing an all-inclusive holiday that is just as artificial as the environments we have created for ourselves.
I think of the old days, when we sat together with the family in the garden and there were campfires in the evening. The smell of the wood.
The singing of my grandparents, my uncles and aunts still echoes in my ears to this day. The balmy summer wind blew in the faces of us many children and we played hide and seek in the dark. Longing for simplicity, closeness to nature and connection with the family.
Is A Money-Driven World The Only Way?
In almost all parts of the world, this simple and yet happy life has given way to a chase for paper, i.e. money. The two – or for some ‘wealthy’ people perhaps four – weeks of holiday travel per year is a brief escape from this rat race, and then the holiday has to be spectacular, please.
So what’s next? Is the only way out to drop out? But what exactly would that look like? I don’t know, but I can’t bear the perversion of the world that has been imposed on us any longer. I want to paint, I want to write. I want to express myself and be creative. I want a life of cohesion. A life in which we are human and not mechanical.”Impossible!”, you may say. But is it really?
Is only this money-driven system a system that suits us human beings? With all their victims that it creates, that we just accept. At the same time hoping against hope, that it won’t eat us too. In the long run, I think that we will find a way
But these are the new paths that only a few have taken so far. They are laborious and not clearly visible.
But where do the predetermined motorways of the social system lead in the end? They are comfortable. They are fast, but they are lined with a smell of lifelessness. At least that’s how it feels. So, for those who recognise it, there are only the unknown trails that lead further and further away from the motorway. It is an uncertain path, but this path allows us to pause and listen to the birdsong. The noise of the motorway fades and life presents itself again in all its incredible abundance and power.
The Path Of The Creator
There is only one thing to do: don’t stop exploring this path, just keep going. On without a compass. On with the fear that wants to be caressed in the baby carrier in front of you. On despite the cuts. And so writing, painting and living out my creative impulses remains my daily meditative practice. It seems to be my path. Maybe it’s yours too?
We are all creators who shape this world with our lives. Who set the direction with the small decisions we make every day. The direction is clear! We are allowed to recognise ourselves. We are allowed to slip into the role of the creator and live it out. If we don’t… what will remain for us? We will be overrun by a machine, namely our artificial social system, our modern society,… until nothing of us remains.
A friend once said to me: A writer is only one when he writes; a painter is only one when he paints. It’s as simple as that. So you too should draw from the lifeblood that has been given to you. You are only a creator when you create.
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