Mixed Metaphors

This past summer, adult coloring books were 6 of the top 20 bestsellers on Amazon, which inarguably makes it an emerging trend. From Huffpost, clinical psychologist Ben Michaelis and Souris Hong, author of bestselling adult coloring book Outside the Lines, “There is a long history of people coloring for mental health reasons,” Michaelis says. “Carl Jung used to try to get his patients to color in mandalas at the turn of the last century, as a way of getting people to focus and to allow the subconscious to let go. Now we know it has a lot of other stress-busting qualities as well.” 

Coloring Flower Mandalas

An essay from Higher Perspective entitled, “Psychologists Say Coloring Is the Best Alternative to Meditation,” reports that,  “Psychologists found that coloring in or out of the lines helps unlock creative potential. It also helps relieve tension and anxiety, something we have amply in this society of ours.”

Artist Credit: Wendy Piersall

I credit the preceding statement with my recent fascination with toys, coloring books and other childhood pastimes. We are living in unsettling and dangerous times. From gun violence and mass murders, terrorism and genocide around the world, teen suicide and heroin overdoses, poverty, inequality and social unrest, and the passage of regressive legislation — and most concerning — the unraveling of our democratic and capitalistic system of government — we are a society in trouble.

I don’t intend to awfulize, yet it’s important to be aware and informed as I make choices in how I choose to cope and respond. As a person in recovery, gratefully, many substances and behaviors are no longer viable options for me. Instead, spiritual practice, meditation, self-examination, and contributing positively to community and social change are my guiding principles and personal responsibility.

A quote from the lyrics of a Bob Dylan song, “My Back Pages,” has been looping in my mind. “Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.”  There was time in my teens, twenties and early thirties, when everything seemed so easy to parse as black or white and good or bad. Today, I’m looking at life as if for the first time, seeing the shades of gray in between the poles of black and white and good and bad.

One of my self-examination practices is to pay attention to what I resist, which usually is an indicator of an issue I need to work on, an aspect of my shadow, or unrealized potential for which I have some fear or anxiety to address. The other thing I’ve been paying attention to is what piques my curiosity.  Lately it’s been the colors, playthings, and memories of childhood.

As I’ve written before, I consider myself lucky in that I grew up in what now may be considered in retrospect as simpler times, the early 1950s and 60s. I don’t gloss over the racial prejudice, and limiting inequality of gender roles, or the looming cloud of the Cold War and the threat of nuclear bombs, however as a baby boomer growing up in the post-war Midwest, my childhood was rich with friends, fantasy play, and outdoor activity. Read more in my story, Boomer’s Playground.

I was the eldest of six children and I’m grateful that I had lots of friends and siblings, though as the eldest I grew up fast and helped my parents, both who worked full-time jobs and supplemented the family income with part-time work on the weekends. With my sister Roz, I helped care for my younger siblings.

Like many children of my era there were coloring books, and paper dolls, Colorforms, and modeling clay, Etch-a-Sketch, Play-Doh, and Silly Putty — lots of ways to be creative. Fortunately my parents allowed us kids to play with whatever toys or crafts interested us, we were never limited by our gender. I was a tomboy, one of the first gender fluid identities. One of my pastimes growing up was sketching floor plans and elevations of home designs with my graph paper and number 2 pencils, Pink Pearl eraser, ruler, compass and protractor. At a young age I was exposed to Frank Lloyd Wright whose work was prominent in my hometown of Racine, Wisconsin. I didn’t play with dollhouses, I designed houses.

So, it was a surprise recently when I received my daily promotional email from MoMA (the Museum of Modern Art) online catalog and saw the Cubic Dollhouse, which I immediately wanted to possess. Now, to put this in proper perspective, one of the behaviors that I’ve let go of is consuming material things to make myself numb out or feel momentarily better when things are bad. I don’t shop compulsively as I have in the past. Gone are the days illustrated in a classic Chicago blues song by Paul Butterfield Blues Band, “I Got a Mind to Give Up Living,” “I got a mind to give up living, and go shopping instead.” In fact quite the contrary, I’m at that age when I’m letting go and simplifying my life rather than adding material things.

The dollhouse serves as a similar symbol and mechanism as did my youthful interest in architecture. It was my imagination at play. This is precisely what children’s playthings, coloring books and games achieve: reverie, fantasy, and role-playing.

What I like most about this dollhouse is the contemporary expression of design and furnishings, a combination of Ikea, Crate and Barrel, and retro 1950s lifestyle. When I imagine buying the dollhouse, I think of it as an art purchase, which I’ll display as an object d’art on its own museum-like pedestal, but secretly it will also function as a toy for this adult, senior, woman. Some might say I’m regressing. I think that’s okay. 

I haven’t purchased a coloring book yet, but I’m considering it. I have a plastic tote full of art supplies, calligraphy pens, and miscellaneous drafting tools. I know that I will do my best to color inside the lines, because that’s how I’m wired. I offer these opposing points of view (see links at the end of the essay) on the meaning of adult coloring books and meditation. I also want to acknowledge and give a shout out to a friend, Heather Maxwell and her spouse, Heather Kauffmann who have embarked on a creative journey combining their artistic talents in pen and ink drawings, painting, meditation, affirmations, and more.

So the lesson is this — when times get tough ­— adults start playing.

Visit Create Thrive Grow and take a peek at Heather Hawk Maxwell’s new book, Free Flow —Fresh Air for Tough Times.

Adult Coloring Pros and Cons

Pro: The Cognitive Benefits of Coloring

Con: Adult Colouring Books: Is This the Apocalypse?