Lessons in courage from the universe

That time the universe, or some such thing, sent me a lion-shaped sign...

Do you believe in the spiritual? A higher power? Or maybe just the mysterious depths of your unconscious?

How do we create art or write a poem that we don’t even know we need, but that provides such relief when it’s made?

Work that so acutely answers a question or a need that we have, it feels somehow ‘other’ to you, from outside of you rather than in you, even though you know you created it?

Can that make sense? Does that make sense?

I don’t have the answer, but this was my experience with this poem and the artwork that inspired it, and I’ve never looked back.

I wrote this poem during my second weekend at the St Ives School of Painting. I’d recently been accepted onto the Porthmeor Programme, the school’s 10-month programme to help emerging artists develop their voice. I was in the historic Porthmeor studio with 9 other women, all wonderful and incredibly talented alike, overlooking the sea, the waves roaring. Our tutor was the incredible Kate Southworth. We were learning the importance of ritual and alchemy within creative practice, the balance of the unconscious and conscious in art, the light and the dark, the feminine and masculine.

And while I was undergoing a creative experience that the me of 6 months ago would have jumped at, I was, well, small, I suppose. And sad, and frustrated. A bit lonely, although not at all alone. My best friend’s Dad had very recently passed away, I’d had an experience during a breath work workshop that my rational mind couldn’t make sense of (I was not in the habit of attending breath work workshops before…) and had, honestly, left me feeling quite shaken, and I felt unable to express myself, or, really, to be myself. I was afraid to share my work. Terrified of anyone seeing ‘me’, the actual me. Not because of the people around me, but because of the baggage I was carrying. I don’t think I really knew who I was at all. Or I did and I wasn’t allowing myself to be it. I was angry and lost.

I was in the bath when I wrote the poem. It poured out of me into my Notes app - poetic indeed, I know - with no resistance, coming seemingly from somewhere within that I didn’t have access to, or maybe it was beamed down from above. I wrote it in less than five minutes. I remember crying when I’d finished it.

The teaching weekend was on alchemy, the conscious and unconscious, and working with these processes and energies to create art. It was the most spiritual art lesson I'd ever had and I was both excited and apprehensive. I come from a scientific background. I say, ‘come from’, I pursued a scientific background as a teenager, opting for the ‘sensible’ route and shrinking, hiding the artistic, intuitive side of myself. The side I couldn’t control, that made everything so raw and loud and bright, the emotional side that others shrank away from. So to return back to it, to the artistic and spiritual, felt like coming home from living abroad, worrying that you’re no longer welcome but craving its warmth like your whole body depends on it, wondering if you’re still going to fit, guilty that you ever left at all.

But it welcomed me back, of course it did.

Kate started the day teaching us about the sequential phases of traditional alchemy, phases that we pass through as we evolve, turning raw, base matter into something beautiful, ever seeking balance on the journey. I’m sure this rings true for many, but it definitely rang true for me, an understanding of the dissolution of a previous life and the painstaking, non-linear rebuild. bringing a tear to my eye. I was in the whitening phase, looking to the yellowing, but mostly, definitely fermenting, putrefying, and lost with it (I, of course, mean spiritually and psychologically fermenting, pardon the imagery!).

A key tenant of Kate’s teaching is the balance of the conscious and unconscious in creating. One cannot outweigh the other. I didn’t understand this fully at the time, or at least how to disengage my conscious. I was ruled by it, overthinking everything, not allowing myself to give in to my unconscious and what it wanted to say. Maybe I didn’t trust it, maybe I didn’t want to hear it. I was dissolved and afraid of taking hold of and expressing my inner voice. I was frustrated and trapped.

So there I was, feeling small, angry at my inability to express myself, contained by my fear, when Kate informed us that we were going to try parsemage as a way of allowing the unconscious to come through, harnessing chance. Or as Jung would put it, allowing the unseen, spiritual and the human psyche to come through in the work in the way that it was needed.

(Parsemage is a Surrealist, automatic art technique invented by British artist, Ithell Colquhoun, involving scattering charcoal dust or coloured chalk onto the surface of water, then sliding paper under the water to lift and capture the floating, organic patterns. Think marbling on paper when you were at school.)

It required zero control and was, simply put, really good fun. It was play, sprinkling charcoal powder on the water and scooping it up with the paper. I turned my brain off and let the charcoal and the water do its thing, admired the patterns, delighted at other’s creations, and then I forgot about it. At least until the Sunday.

And this is where it got a bit odd. A bit unexplained. Where the magic happened, as it were. My message from the other, the spirit world, a higher power, angels, God, you name it, whatever you believe in. I still don’t know if I fully believe it, but it held up its sign loud and clear.

For within one of my creations was the clear outline of a woman and a lion lying down together. I caught my breath when I saw it, a wave of deep, unidentifiable emotion. It stirred something in me, like pulling on an invisible string or tapping an invisible wire. I don’t know how else to explain it than to say it went to the core of me, pure unconscious and, at the time, I had no idea what it meant.

You may be thinking, ‘So what?’, as well. What does a lion and a lady have anything to do with you feeling fearful, small and unable to express yourself?

The lion and the lady (the lady is on the right with her arm over the lions mane, embracing him )

Well, part of our practice for the weekend was to explore the symbolism of anything that came up, consciously or otherwise. And the lion, I came to learn, symbolises many things, all of which completely, eerily, and very unsubtly relevant to the message I needed to move forward…

In alchemy, the lion represents the active, the fiery, and the sun. The lion is masculine to the feminine, the matter to the spirit, the conscious to the unconscious. Alchemy seeks balance and so, to secure the energy of the lion, the sun, without letting it consume you entirely, symbolically it’s often paired with the feminine, the spirit, the moon. How interesting then that my lion was entwined with a woman, perfectly in balance, the feminine, a symbol of the moon, and the masculine, the sun? A message on harmony, perhaps? To not allow one half of me to consume the other and prevent it from being.

Spiritually, lions are associated with courage, strength and leading, a sign to be bold and take action. Biblically, they’re associated with the divine power and authority. (I don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this symbolism, the universe was rather heavy handed as I mentioned…)

And finally, astrologically, lions are associated with the star sign, Leo.

Perhaps this was the most relevant to me and why I’m choosing to share this poem as we enter Leo Season, but in the astrological calendar, Leo symbolises freedom of expression, creativity and visibility. The courage to take up space and express yourself fully, as your true self.

(If that isn’t a sign to be yourself when you’re feeling small and afraid, I don’t know what is.)

It was the exact energy and message that I needed. Whether you believe in it or not — and I know it’s potentially polarising — the symbolism, alchemically, spiritually and astrologically was ASTUTE.

As an aside, (if you’ll indulge a bit more astrology, just skip this paragraph if you won’t), what was even more pertinent to me, and of even greater significance in my lion messenger, perhaps spooky even, is that I, myself am a Leo moon. Now, this won’t mean much to anyone who doesn’t believe in astrology, but it means something to me and you’ll just have to be kind enough to allow it if you don’t believe, but the emotional, creative side of myself IS a Leo. My moon, the feminine, is a Leo. The lady and the lion. But get this as well, at the EXACT TIME that we started doing the parsemage exercise, the moon transitioned into the Leo constellation in the sky, so even the universe was all things lion at the very time that the lion and the lady appeared to me?! And the moon stayed in Leo for the rest of the weekend. A lion in the sky to guide my creativity?

What’s the tally with lion symbolism now? It doesn’t matter, all I can say is that it felt like there was a pretty big neon arrow being illuminated from the sky and beaming into my head.

Was I the woman and the lion some form of Leo energy there to guide me to be myself and express myself fully?

Or was I both, as is the case in the alchemical interpretation?

Or is the lion a form of spiritual or religious guide to give me the courage I needed to be myself?

I’ll never know which it was, and however you interpret it is fine by me, but what I do know was that it felt like a clear as day sign from the universe that I was on the right path. A spiritual, metaphorical whack round the head to get out of my own way, get my conscious back in balance, and to find the courage to express myself fully, my true, unfiltered creative self.

And then I got into the bath that night, and this poem poured out of me. No resistance, barely any active thinking, my brain switched off and it just came out. A message from my lion, gifting me all the courage I would ever need. A nod from some higher power that it had my back, that I could do this.

Now, whether you believe in it or not, whether you think it’s a bunch of woo woo, the fact remains that it was the exact message I needed, when I needed it, and I cannot explain it as something that came from my own head, not consciously anyway.

And it led to the development of a poem that, to this day, makes me cry when I read it, it touches me on that level.

It honestly changed my life.

The deep mysteries of the unconscious, or the unknown mysteries of the spiritual realm, whichever way you look at it, it’s pretty amazing and blows my mind… at least I think so.

So, if you’re reading this today, looking for a sign to do the thing, or express yourself, please take this as a sign from me, or a sign from whoever and whichever you believe in, that you can do it and you have the courage within you. The universe is on your side.

And if that’s not the sign you need today, instead take this as a sign that when you allow yourself to be completely who you are, open up to what is beneath your consciousness, surrender to it, to your intuition, the answer is going to be there. Whatever you might need to hear, exactly when you need to hear it. You just need to learn how to look for it and to listen.

I think that there is a little Leo in all of us, really.

The courage you’re seeking has always been there, you simply have to surrender to it.