Quakerism in the Creative Process
by Diane-Ellen McCarron
Poughkeepsie Meeting
This watercolor painting is called “Rise Again,” although I also considered titling it, “Do Not Collapse.” At first gaze the content of the painting may seem far away from a more typical representation of the Quaker process. But, in my life experiences of over seventy years, I have learned, mostly from trial and error, that wholeness and truth cannot manifest fully without accepting my own darkness—my mistakes and failures that often flip over and attempt to teach me once I accept them. The infused and empowered Light bestowed with my “yes” can help guide and humbly integrate parts of myself into the whole of who I am. For me, this practice is my life's work. Both art and writing are processes that guide me into a deeper love. When I participate in a creative pursuit, it opens me and helps me let go of what takes me away from the Spirit and helps reveal what behavior choices bring me closer to our living God. Sometimes, a silence rises along with an unexpected Quaker listening that delivers me to sacred tears. I feel very grateful at these times of stillness. And so, the title, “Rise Again.”
George Fox spoke these words: “I saw that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love, which flowed over the darkness, in that I also saw the infinite love of God, and I had great openings.” The figure in this painting (which may represent everyone) responds and embraces this spiritual truth. I feel overwhelmed at times because of the level of chaos acted out in wars, poverty, climate change, etc., etc. Also, I sometimes realize how I can be at odds in relationships—on the verge of a collapse or depression due to the weight of many day-to-day burdens. Yet a “still small voice” reminds me that one can rise again out of the ocean of darkness as unifying and healing Light brings forth living peace—“great openings.” Collapsing is not a permanent state when my faith knows that God’s love is always infinitely available to me as it also is to all of us everywhere.
My spiritual life is an important priority. When I write and paint, it is as if a lens opens for me to see the world more sacredly. I think I am lighter and more able to “…walk cheerfully over the earth.”