Silencing the Critic

“The most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely.”  ― C.G. Jung

Being considerate to others is encouraged. But what about being kind to ourselves? Somewhere along the way most of us learned self-compassion is self-indulgence. If we don’t constantly reprimand ourselves, a monster will be unleashed. We will become slothful, greedy egomaniacs who run their lives into the ground. That’s where the inner critic comes in.  Always humming in the background, its voice judges our every move, keeping us in line.

In truth, self-abasement keeps us stuck. I’ve learned trying to corral yourself with constant criticism blocks the whisper of God. To quiet that internal voice for one day is frightening but ends up feeling like heaven. The more you try to control, the more you remain in your head and not your heart and soul. Being exceedingly gentle with yourself clears the channel and allows guidance to flow through. Somehow with self-acceptance the need to judge everyone else vanishes too. Giving to ourselves and giving to others are one and the same. Wrapping a blanket of kindness around yourself, ends up engulfing the whole world, muffling the drone of the fault-finder forever.

My nephew Matt lets his puppy Nate lick peanut butter off of a lint roller used to simulate an ice cream cone.

My nephew Matt lets his puppy Nate lick peanut butter off of a lint roller used to simulate an ice cream cone.

All text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

www.sueshanahan.com

Being Seen

Nasty old troll

“There’s something liberating about not pretending. Dare to embarrass yourself. Risk.”Drew Barrymore

There has been a lot of conversation about vulnerability thanks to a Ted Talk given by shame researcher, Brené Brown. Little did I know when I began writing my children’s picture book, Glory in the Morning, Brené’s work would help me unearth its deeper meaning. Buried in my story, is the universal longing to be seen and believed in. Meaningful connections like that can only be earned by sharing your truth with the world, a concept Brené calls living wholeheartedly.

Glory in the Morning is an accidental allegory of events in my life. I realize now that the fairy I wrote about is actually an aspect of me. When she gets in the way of an angry troll, he casts a spell to make her disappear. The only thing that can save my winged protagonist from fading away is if two believers see her at the same time. I’ve had some trolls in my life too. Being around rage is where I first learned to disappear. My way of going unnoticed was to be perfect. Never making mistakes meant I would be left alone. And alone I was. Even after my perfectionism had outlived its usefulness, I lived in fear of exposure. I kept much of the “real me” secret. Being introduced to Brené’s research was the beginning of an awakening in me. Learning we are beautiful in our humanity, that our flaws are endearing, gave way to sharing my authentic-self with the world. In return, I was given the validation of true connection. With fairies and people alike, the only way to wholeheartedness is through risk and vulnerability. Satisfying the heart’s yearning to be loved for itself has the power to break any spell, even one cast by a cranky old troll.

As I type this, Glory in the Morning is being produced into a picture book app. It should be available in the iTunes store in mid-September. It’s such a part of me, I feel like I’m  sending my child out into the world. My hope is that everyone who reads it, will connect to its underlying message. We all ache to be seen and heard. No longer hiding, we fly free.Flying through the garden detail

All text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

www.sueshanahan.com

Beauty Within

Divine Things

Maybe the tragedy of the human race was that we had forgotten we were each Divine. Shirley MacLaine

 The inspiration for Divine Things came to me one summer on Martha’s Vineyard. The island is wrapped in a wild, raw beauty. There are images of mermaids everywhere.  Lying on the beach, it’s not hard to imagine a secret world beneath the waves.

 The mermaid in the illustration is a metaphor for the exquisiteness that so often lives below the surface. It takes an open mind and heart to discern it. But then again, sometimes all it takes is just looking……

Bridget MV

I snapped this photo of my daughter Bridget on Martha’s Vineyard, around the time she posed for the above illustration. She is a mermaid of the landlocked variety. To learn more about mermaids check out my friend artist Margot Datz’s book  A Survival Guide for Landlocked Mermaids.

All text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.
www.sueshanahan.com

The Magic of Inspiration

The most common question I’m asked about my art is, “Where do you get your ideas?” I love the written word and quotations inspire me. When I read or hear something that strikes a chord, images begin to form in my brain. Seeing an adorable child has the same effect on me. In my mind’s eye, they can sprout fairy wings or morph into a mermaid. At other times, I’m compelled to search out a quotation to describe their essence.

However, my artistic process doesn’t always work that way. The above fairy painting is from a picture book I authored, Glory in the Morning. One day it struck me that the image not only illustrated a scene from the book but is also autobiographical. I had unwittingly brought a quote to life by Maya V. Patel that my sister Ann had given me, “She takes my hand and leads me along paths I would not dared have explored alone.” That describes our relationship perfectly. Ann and I felt we were traveling companions through our time on earth. Sometimes I would lead, and other times I raced to keep up with her. I now see my watercolor as a metaphor for our lives. In it, I’m the fairy soaring with my sister, the bluebird. Together we traverse the garden like the characters in my book. Because Ann died suddenly in 2009, the flight of the bluebird takes on an even deeper significance. Giving credence to the words of author J.M. Barrie, “Death is but the next great adventure,” I no longer grieve. Clinging to my sister would only serve to weigh her down.

Inspiration is a wondrous and mysterious thing.

Me with my sister Ann, hand in hand, at the beginning of our journey.

Me with my sister Ann, hand in hand, at the beginning of our journey.

Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

Watch for my new children’s book app, Glory in the Morning, coming to the iTunes store in September.

www.sueshanahan.com

Life is a Gift

Life is a Gift Life is a Gift

The gift is always wrapped in risk.  It takes courage to open it and dive in. From cradle to grave we’ve been indoctrinated to dedicate ourselves to safety. Which doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, until you consider all you’re likely to miss.  I’m convinced real safety lies in the willingness to be surprised by life. A mind that weaves safety nets ends up boxing itself in. Being open leaves room for the unimaginable to enter.

At the end of my days, I will be glad I followed my path as an artist. Sure, it’s risky. There isn’t a steady paycheck, and I walk hand in hand with rejection. If I had abandoned my gift for a more conventional career, no doubt I’d have more money in my pocket. But to experience the fullness of life is why we are here. I am in agreement with George Bernard Shaw when he said, “I want to be totally used up when I die.” Yep, life is for living.

My muses for this piece were my great-niece Aine  and her little brother Colin. Notice a younger version of Aine in the banner at the top of the page.

My muses for this piece were my great-niece Aine and her little brother Colin. Notice a younger version of Aine in the banner at the top of the page.

The dog in the picture is the beloved Quincy.

The beloved Quincy modeled for the dog in my art.

Text and images © Sue Shanahan. All rights reserved.

http://www.sueshanahan.com