The Many Faces of Soul Portrait

Soul Portrait was born out of my experience as admissions coordinator in a 120-bed nursing home. During a short span of time, I learned one of the greatest lessons of my life: we all want to be known, appreciated, and loved for who we are.  It took this experience, along with 25 years of working in the community on behalf of elders, families, advocates, and caregivers, to help me understand how critical it is for each of us to open up and share more of ourselves.

Soul Portrait is about making aging personal and having a voice in our health care.  Unlike living wills or health care directives that specify what actions should be taken for our physical health (including life support measures), Soul Portrait is about going deeper and revealing some of the things that enrich our life or present us with challenges.  It's a communication tool that encourages us to share more of who we are with family, close friends, medical care providers, and potential caregivers.  As a result of knowing us better, every one of these people will be empowered to advocate for us and support our quality of life. 

Soul Portrait also helps us learn more about ourselves by answering relevant questions and reviewing the life we've lived.  For example, when was the last time you thought about the little things others do for you that make you know you are valued, respected, and loved?  For me, it's when someone listens to me with their full attention. Because of Soul Portrait, I was able to think about how and why that means so much to me, and whether or not I give others the same respect.  I got the answers I was looking for when I reviewed how the issue of listening has played a role in building up or tearing down past relationships.  

Aside from health care advocacy and learning more about yourself through reflection and life review, there are other great uses for Soul Portrait.  Whether you are in a new relationship or one that has lasted 40 years, there is usually something you'd like to share with the other person that doesn't roll right off your tongue; Soul Portrait helps you express it.  If you have an aging parent, Soul Portrait is a great way to start the dialogue about his or her future (which involves you).  Maybe you work with older adults and know you can deliver better care but aren't sure how to go about it; or perhaps you are approaching old age yourself and have wondered how you can breathe life into your name on the family tree.  Soul Portrait can help.

Soul Portrait is a simple approach to making soul connections and fostering compassion for yourself and others.  Along with my experiences, reflections, and tips, there are many topics to think about --potentially interesting and revealing topics that can generate meaningful discussions with those you love, or enlighten those who may someday play a role in your health care.  Inside Soul Portrait, you will learn about my father, a fiercely independent man who would have preferred death to being dependent on someone else.  You'll read about Maria, an elder whom no one knew, and with whom no one could communicate.  There is a letter to men, written by a male friend of mine who wants to assure men this is not just a book for women.  You'll learn ways to complete your own Soul Portrait or help someone else create theirs.

If you want to learn more about the people you love, Soul Portrait makes a thoughtful gift.  And finally, if you want to express more of who you are to those same people, Soul Portrait is a gift you can give to yourself.

(c) Sally Z McBain

The Art of Aging

I've been writing about anchors that keep me grounded in the face of changes attributed to aging, some of which have thrown me for a loop. It happened fast; by no small miracle, I jumped from 40 to 65 in the blink of an eye.  Each day is a reminder I have less time left than I have already lived -- a sobering thought.

After a few weeks of being sullen and withdrawn, I was getting bored with myself and decided I'd had enough of the self-centered negativity.  Determined to do something about my attitude, I searched my life for all the things that keep me grounded in reason and make me happy.  I re-discovered the importance of exercise and friends, two anchors that keep me from drifting into a droopy, depressive state of being.   In the last couple days, I've identified five more anchors, without which I'd be aimless and more self-absorbed than ever.  The first three fill my creative needs; the fourth takes me out of my head and into action on behalf of others; and the fifth ties them all together.

                                                       

Art, writing, and photography keep me focused and challenged.  When I write something that comes together well, paint a flower that closely resembles the real thing (or matches my imagination about it), sketch the image of an animal, or take a photograph that captures morning or evening light, I'm filled with joy.

My interest in writing and photography started in earnest back in 1986, when I first moved to the Columbia River Gorge.  I knew I had landed in heaven, and I was driven to express the feelings of wonder that overcame me every day.  That relocation also marked the beginning of a painful transition; I had become a long-distance mother.  I wrote in journals as if there were no tomorrow, and then I moved into the world of poetry.  Both methods of writing got to the heart of my awe, and at the same time, tended to my emotional wounds.  

It has only been in the last decade that I started getting serious about water colors.  With each effort, I get better.  With each painting, I tell the little girl in me who felt she had no talent, she doesn't have to envy LC from elementary school any more.  When I go into an art gallery, however, and see what other artists have accomplished, I shrink back in humility.  Still, I try not to compare; my art is just what it is....my art. 

What I know for sure is that my own personal best will come when I paint every day, rather than when the mood suits me.  Since I was born in autumn, I start re-evaluating my life in late September; it's my time of renewal and my favorite season of the year.  I delight in the array of gold, orange, and burgundy; brave flowers that hold on until they can bear the cold no longer; an angled sun that gently brightens and softens wet leaves and boulders; and a harvest moon that shines through our bedroom window and prompts my nightly prayer.  By the time January arrives and others are committing themselves to New Year's resolutions, I am well on my way.  By early November, my goals are set.  This year, one of them is to make more room in my life for painting.

I'm beginning to see aging as an art form of its own.  I'm the artist who takes advantage of natural light to bring out the contrasting shadows, who makes my composition dynamic and interesting, simply by choosing the right perspective, and who throws on as much color as I can.  Like art, life is all about practice and trying to get our work to look the way we want it to look.  We screw up and try over again, but we remember our mistakes and learn from them.  I rarely throw a painting away; the really poor ones are my teachers, just as my life-mistakes have been.   

My fourth anchor is volunteerism; and it has taken several years to value its role in my life -- enough to finally do something about it.  All communities thrive through the work of  volunteers, and this community is no exception.  We are blessed with people who give of their time and talents to our youth, disabled, elderly, homeless, veterans, and others. Volunteering gets me out and about, meeting incredible people and making new friends.  I never cease to be amazed at how connected we all are, no matter the role we play.

Exercise, friendships, writing, photography, art and volunteerism will steady my life as I age; and I am grateful for them.  Gratitude, my last anchor for now, balances the fear and dread that come with the unknown.  Expressing thanks is the most important anchor of all; and it strengthens my faith that all is as it should be.     

There is no way I can know what the next few years will bring and what challenges will be set before me.  But I have today, and I'm relieved I broke through that terrible feeling of loss and anxiety.  My anchors have always been here, and they will continue to keep me grounded if I'm receptive to them.  Therein lies the greatest challenge of all; but I am more determined than ever to make the best of this life I have.  

                            
                      Oh Sis.  Let's enjoy our old age as much as possible.    CZJ


Author's note:  I write this post as millions of people suffer the losses caused by severe, powerful, and devastating weather.  Homes are gone, people have died, and life will never be the same.  My prayers and thoughts go out to each and every one.  That I can sit in my comfortable studio and think about my own challenges is a blessing in itself.  Life is one hit after another; yet somehow, through our anchors and faith, the human spirit is able to rise above it all. 

(c) Sally Z McBain