roughing us out

Carving out three dimensional images from large slabs of stone is a process that appears to be older than civilzation itself.  There are examples of prehistoric statues such as the "Venus of Willendorf" which may date back as far as 24,000-22,000 BCE. 

Today, there are of course some new tools and technology that are available to sculptors, however, the process is basically the same: Roughing, Refining, Smoothing and Finishing. 


A lamassu from the Palace of Sargon II
 Oriental Institute University of Chicago
Photograph by AnnMarie Gitchell



Roughing out the very most basic shape is step one and typically involves a mallet and a pointed chisel to make gross cuts.  In this phase, large sections of unwanted stone are literally knocked off the slab, while the sculptor holds his tool at about a 90 degree angle.

Refining starts by using toothed shaped chisels held at about a 45 degree angle, allowing the artist to add more subtle details. 

Finally, smoothing and finishing are completed using smooth chisels, files and rasps- giving us the final masterpiece.

But what does this have to do with peace or wishes or human growth or anything else I have mentioned in this blog?  Well, recently I had a thought.  Like most of my ideas, this one is not particularly earth-shattering or revolutionary.  Just like the title of my blog- "a spoken wish" all I am intending to do is to take these perhaps common thoughts that most of us are or will be thinking at some time- and outwardly state them, commit to them.  So, I was thinking about how much time I personally spend mulling over positive and negative experiences.  Now, I am not saying that I am a doomsdayer or completely pessimistic glass half empty kind of person- but I have noticed that the more negative feeling experiences are the ones that tend to pop into my head when I'm driving to work or putting laundry away or accomplishing some other completely mindless feat.  It's not the successes of myself and my family that jump out to the forefront, it's the times that make me feel the most guilt, the most sadness, the most loss, the most regret, the most anger, the most resentment and despair. 

So, of course this made me think of sculpting?  Yeah, I know a little out there- but stay with me because there is a connection.  Maybe, just maybe these "negative" moments stick with us more because they are the experiences that really give us our shape.  Maybe every time something happens to us and we experience a strong negative emotional response, maybe that's the sculptor carving away at us, making us truly who we are by knocking off the chunks of stone we just don't need.  Perhaps these broad strokes are what help us to evolve into the people we are today.  Maybe this is why I think about these times more, maybe I need to in order to stay along my path- in order to continue to become.

Now, don't get me wrong, positive/happy moments and experiences are incredibly important too!  These are the smoothing chisels and the rasps.  These take the person that we are and "finish" us, polish us, smooth all our rough edges into one form.  I guess what I am getting at is that we are each an amazing masterpiece, created by every experience that comes our way.  We can't underestimate the power of positivity and the fine tuning it does on our souls, but we also can't ignore those times that have troubled us the most- for these give us our basic shape, these help define our character.  That's not to say that we are only the sum of our unhappiness, but that these moments are not for nothing.  I think this is what Walt Whitman was paraphrasing so eloquently when he said, "Every moment of light and dark is a miracle." 

I spend a lot of time, telling myself to "get over" things and wondering when I will be "past" a certain event or unpleasant moment.  I wish to break this habit and just let myself be, let myself become the masterpiece that no one else can be!

It's beginning to look a lot like...



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011



to be alive...

For most of my childhood I was painfully shy.  Sometimes I wouldn't speak at all to grown ups or even my peers.  I'm sure many people saw this as a weakness, a vulnerability of mine.  I've got many more where that came from!

Now that I have my own children I can see that this "vulnerability" is not necessarily a weakness.  In fact, I've come to figure out that many of the things that others, or even ourselves, may perceive as weakness are really the things that make us the most who we are- our essence.



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 

I've also come to realize that there is tremendous strength in vulnerable moments.  These are the moments that unite us as human beings, these are the moments that create family, community, these are the moments that effect growth and that heal. 

For most of my adulthood I have tried to keep my most vulnerable emotions to myself.  I rarely cry at funerals, I typically berate myself for displaying sadness or fear and I rarely acknowledge the breadth of a moment while experiencing it- perhaps because I worry that the chinks in my armor will show, leaving me defenseless.  Unfortunately, this ends up making me look like a stoic, rather unfeeling individual.  Ironically, some may mistake this for strength when really, this is my kryptonite- my ultimate weakness.

My job as a health care provider allows me a small window into the realm of strength vs weakness, along with the distinct privilege to be witness to patients and family members at their most vulnerable times.  I have the honor everyday of being but one stone on their path to recovery.  So you would think that what happened to me yesterday would not have made such an impression- but it did!

The details are not as important as the fact that someone took the time to be more open and perhaps feel a bit more "out on a limb" than usual.  He seized the opportunity to say something to me that meant more than he could know.  Just that act of being "vulnerable" for only a moment, did something magical.  It made me feel.  He didn't need to take the time to say this to me.  He could have easily let the moment pass.  But he didn't.  This is how we effect change in our neighborhood or our state or our country....by connecting with individuals.  If we all remain "strong" all the time, we never reach out to others, we never really experience our full potential as sentient beings.

It's funny that for so long now, I've been searching for "my thing," but really all of us have the same "thing."  We have each other.  And, how we share with each other or acknowledge each other's existence is ONLY through these vulnerable moments. 

"...to grow up is to accept vulnerability...to be alive is to be vulnerable."     - Madeleine L'Engle

An obtainable wish...



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 

"All progress occurs because people

dare to be different."

- Harry Millner

sunsets, salient moments, important chapters...



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 



After realizing what I had done, I heard myself start to cry.  Not a silent shedding of tears, not a quiet whimper or a middle of the road snivel, but a full on sob.  I had inadvertantly deleted images from my computer documenting special moments with my children and family.

Now, did I lose my home to tropical storm Irene- NO; did I have to decide which of my children to attempt to save as I struggle to survive in famine riddled Somalia- Not even close.  I have this in perspective now, but yesterday morning I couldn't see straight!

My boys are only getting older and bigger and I feel time slipping through my fingers- losing those images of them at the zoo and the civil war encampment and with my parents on the 4th of July felt like I was losing bits of our family.

But what I actually lost sight of was the fact that erasing the documentation did not negate the existence of these moments.  Life doesn't fly past us, it flows through us.  These special memories, experiences leave a trace in our soul.  Losing the images means we can't SEE the event anymore- but it does not negate the fun  and excitement and love that was felt and made. 

This made me think of some of my patients that I work with and their families.  Often, I work with individuals who have lost memories due to head injury or dementia.  This is devestating for the person and usually more so for their loved ones.  Maybe that's why I got so upset yesterday when I realized my mistake.  Maybe I felt like without the proof of these events, we would eventually lose track of how those events made us feel.

But playing with my children today I realized that whether my boys remember signing the giant baseball at Brookfield zoo or not is not going to make or break their childhood.  What will make or break their young lives is the quality of the traces that I have helped to leave in their little hearts and souls.  These go on.  These will flow through them into adulthood and right on into their own families. 

And, don't worry- I now am the proud owner of an external back-up hard drive : )

Ralph knows best ...



image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 



simply moments




image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2011 

 

eyes wide open

When I swing a baseball bat, I swing with as much umph and strength that I can.  I regularly make contact and the hits are decent, but not fabulous. 

My husband tells me that I have a great swing- fast, hard, and consistent.  He also said something that was oddly, and unintentionally, insightful- he said that if I keep my eyes open for the entire swing including the follow through- I will be "unstoppable."

Epiphanies, by definition are "a sudden realization of great truth" and they seem to crop up in random places at unsuspecting times- and boy this was one for me.  Standing at home plate at a local baseball diamond with my husband, 2 boys and my nephew on a gorgeous summer night- I realized that if I keep my eyes open during important parts of my life and continue to face whatever is coming at me with my full attention- than I can't miss!

Fear stands in the way of me making my dreams become reality, or rather turning my reality into my dreams.  I am not afraid of that baseball, I know what's going to happen if it hits me, I know how I'll most likely react.  I close my eyes during the follow through because I'm giving it all I have, trying to smack the tar out of the ball.

I close my eyes during the follow through of my life, because I'm holding back- afraid to fail, afraid to make a mis-step somehow.  My wish today is to keep my eyes open all the way through each pursuit and one of these days I know I'll hit it out of the park!!