Part 2: Ex-pression

So supposedly, ex-pression is the opposite of de-pression. Let’s examine.
Technically speaking, I can see it right away. Depress means to press down, to put energy into containing. And that visual also makes me think of internal pressure building up. To express is to externalize, to release, to let free. So it makes sense that that would de-escalate the internal pressure.

What lies beneath?

Expression requires a solid foundation – trust, validating yourself, letting go, and solid ground on which we take the risks to be out about who we are. Expressing more often helps us firm up the architecture. And trains our expressive muscles to develop. They really do need practice, like everything else in life. We practice things all the time, often without intention, often without action. But to reach the deepest potential of expression, we have to express often.

Depth of expression matters. When you release what’s on top, it only lightens the burden so much. It’s a good warm up though. And then, when you release the next layer, your breath is coming from a slightly deeper place. And then deeper, and deeper, and now you’re pretty close to your soul.

Expressiveness matters. The more authentic the expression gets, the more powerful, the more transformative the release. Sometimes you need to get creative, sometimes you need to get loud. Sometimes you need both at the same time. If it needs a picture, draw it. If it needs your voice, sing… scream… laugh. If it needs your body , dance… move….. run. If it needs space for a breakdown, clear the floor. If it needs movies to make you cry, rent them. Whatever you need, give yourself enough respect to ask, and then give yourself enough space to act. Act sooner than later because your body is housing your soul, it is safeguarding it. But it is also a pressure cooker with limited capacity. The more that our expression leaks out unintentionally, the lesser we will be able to hold on to ourselves with intention. We want to express, not explode.

For me, it’s writing (and dance. But dancing is a whole other story – we’ll come back to that one another time.) I am the closest to myself when I’m writing. When I feel what I’m feeling, I can write, I have to write. When I write, I understand more about myself. My mind comes back inside my body, the lake of my heart clears, becomes still, and I can feel the presence of my spirit. Often when I write, I don’t know what I “think” or “feel” at the beginning. But putting pen to paper allows a deeper honesty to emerge that bypasses the mind. It is more pure, and less afraid. It is an essence that comes through, evading permission, evading filters, and breezing out in pure freedom. It shows me more of who I am, and gives me comfort because the soul knows so much better than the mind.

Expression is not a showcase of talents, or it doesn’t have to be unless performing is a part of your authentic expression. It is a commitment to keep yourself open as a channel, for things that move in to have a safe and timely way to move out, leaving no toxic residues. Then we can be loose, limber, relaxed in our bodies. This relaxed adaptability has resilience in its calmness, and brings us back to our present, our presence. Expressing helps us go beyond surviving, to being more alive.