All My Scars Are Golden

The many ways I've soothed my anxious mind

The line “All my scars are golden” is from the song Kintsugi - by Gabrielle Aplin.

My mom always said I had a wonderful imagination. That was useful when I was writing short stories as a kid or making up games to play outside with friends but as an adult, it just means I have very creative versions of anxiety-laden nightmares. It’s so easy for me to go down a rabbit hole of wondering what-if scenarios. My mental spirals can be intense, dramatic, and especially vivid.

Being the passenger in a car used to be an extremely stressful experience. I write in the past tense as I am gratefully much more relaxed now in the car than I used to be. I’ve learned that my anxiety skyrocketed because I wasn’t in control when sitting shotgun as I had no access to the pedals and felt unsafe without that power.

I would dream up all the ways the ride would go wrong since I wasn’t the one behind the wheel. Envisioning various versions of crashes in my mind would set off my sympathetic nervous system. The fight/fight/freeze response would activate as the vivid visuals led to actively feeling the pain associated with the imagined trauma.

Assists from Science

Attending cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) helped me understand these fears and learning about astrology has helped to soothe the shame away.

In CBT, I discovered triggers of anxiety and ways to reframe or redirect my energy. I learned how to identify the very beginnings of the spiral quicker than ever before through externally processing it with a therapist. She helped me use that imagination in new ways and I’d visualize my own hands on the wheel, seeing the blue hood of my car ahead of me. And I bought simple car chimes as a soothing sound to remind me of the present moment. Check out Jacob’s Car Charms here.

Through astrology, I learned that I have a stellium in my astrological chart which is rare with four planets in Capricorn. This means I’m not just your average control freak. According to Astrology.com, having this alignment in my birth chart can be productive, or self-destructive, as Capricorns always love control but a stellium might indicate having a fear of things they can’t control. Understanding the stars has helped me understand myself. My shame diminishes when I focus on the energetic body and see myself as both made of the stars and but a speck of stardust.

If you haven’t yet figured out your full birth chart, head here with the date, time, and location of your birth. https://www.costarastrology.com/natal-chart

The Triad of Transcendence

While CBT and astrology have, and continue to be, extremely valuable, the most powerful healing tools I’ve found that work to calm my mind have been yoga, writing, and vulnerable sharing in a safe community. These three healing techniques have brought me peace beyond my wildest dreams.

But before I discovered those tools, I was a wreck if I wasn’t the one driving, especially on the highways or if the speed was above 50. Terrifying visions would pop into my mind the moment I saw a single red brake light ahead of us. The first fear would be the deer that would jump out onto the road at the last moment, or the drunk driver erratic and speeding. If the roads had even a hint of being icy, rendering the brakes useless, the horror would multiply. Each scenario ended with my husband swerving and then hitting a tree, or rolling the car over multiple lanes of traffic, or driving over a cliff into the river. I could hear the screech and smell the burn of the tires but what comes after the crash is always worse than the accident itself.

The entire conversation I’d have with the 911 operator would play out in my mind, including the dramatic, “This is a recorded line, right? If I die, John, I want you to know, it’s not your fault. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I love you.” I find myself back in reality, doing the only thing I felt I could control about the situation, clutching my phone tightly in one hand, ready for the impending 911 call, with my other hand white-knuckling the Oh Shit bar. My husband would notice my nerves and try to break the tension. “Were you in the drama club in high school? You would have been so good at it!” he laughs.

I smile, unable to talk as I’m holding back tears, so deeply immersed in the drama unfolding in my mind’s eye. I see the hospital and the doctor’s face giving me the bad news as I crumble to the floor, then the funeral home director with his sympathetic eyes guiding me towards the most expensive options, then coming home alone and trying to fall asleep in our bed but his body heat isn’t there and I lie awake, cold and crying until dawn. The ache in my soul is so palpable, but in the present moment, we’re just riding down I-76 headed to a Phillies game.

Maybe the way my mind visualizes anxiety isn’t that creative. Do you see entire storylines play out in your mind, visualizing despair until it takes your breath away? Can you relate? Please share a comment as I’d love to know I’m not alone.

Through the techniques of yoga and mindfulness, I have learned how to shift my imagination when in the car. I have discovered how to recognize the funnel of fear as soon as it starts and consciously move my mind in another direction. My self-compassion has grown through practicing yoga and I trust myself more. I often utilize the ancient strategies of deep breathing and meditation on the road.

The action of writing has helped me process my anxiety and fears and take control of the narrative. Sometimes I write my experiences in third-person to find objectivity, sometimes I write out the situation changing how I reacted or changing the ending to discover alternative paths for the future. Through writing, I can figure out the correlations between emotions and experiences, which helps me understand it so I can let it go. It isn’t just cathartic to write about my emotions, it is self-discovery. It is a coming home to myself. It is a realization that I always had the power within me to write my own story.

Sharing in a supportive community - like Substack, but also Learning Circles and other safe spaces - has helped me see I am not alone which assists in simmering the shame and seeing myself as human. Fears of all shapes and sizes roam in my head and when I share them with others, it is confirmed that my monsters are not unique and they somehow shrink.

The combination of these powerful healing tools has helped me discover ways to cut through the tangled web of fear and find a way out of the labyrinth of anxiety.

Creative Expression

Sometimes I write poetry to express emotion but recently, I tried a new form of art therapy - Kintsugi. It is a Japanese art form of mending broken ceramics with gold to create a more striking masterpiece. It relates to us as humans as we are stronger once we’ve been broken and more beautiful because of our uniqueness. Our soul’s work is to find healing after challenging experiences - and we do that when we can connect pieces of our life to make sense of it all through celebrating and honoring all parts of ourselves.

I love Kintsugi’s analogy for life and I imagine using gold epoxy to trace my wounds and turn shame into sparkles. We used Kintsugi as inspiration for the cover art of my book, Fragile Thoughts: A Healing Memoir, (pictured above) which came out last May. After obsessing over this type of art for years, I finally tried making kintsugi for the first time this week.

In a workshop hosted by a local non-profit, Project Healing Hive, I learned the process and got my hands dirty with dusty gold. I purchased a little red bowl from Goodwill for just $3, wrapped it in a hand towel then tapped it gently with a hammer so it wouldn’t shatter completely. I paused while holding the broken pieces and recalled the times I had felt broken.

Honoring those experiences as character-building, I began re-forming the bowl. I envisioned my lack of control and the fear it produces being cinched together with the lessons I’ve learned then literally glued them together with gold. Using a popsicle stick, I massaged the gooey mixture of Gorilla Glue and gold epoxy to the rough edges of the bowl. Using gentle force, I applied pressure to the bowl and had to hold it in place for a few minutes for the glue to set. Patience was essential and all I could do was breathe as I waited. Another life lesson.

It required much more patience than I had so it looks a bit sloppy but I plan to remove the smudges with sandpaper soon. Like me, it’s a work in progress. Kintsugi is a powerful reminder that we all are works in progress. Now I have a bowl that doesn’t exist anywhere else in the universe. Like me, it is one of a kind.

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” - Leonard Cohen

Journal Prompts

1. Write about your thoughts on Kintsugi. If you could cover your cracks with gold, what would you be piecing together? What are the unique bits of brokenness you’ve experienced in this lifetime? What are the lessons you’ve learned from those experiences that make you one of a kind?

2. My biggest anxiety trigger is feeling out of control. What are your triggers? If you aren’t sure, try writing out some of the most recent experiences with anxiety from a third-person perspective. What do you see happening before, during, and after that might be a clue to the cause of your anxiety?

3. Do you ever feel that you are falling down a funnel of fears? What does that experience feel like for you in your mind and body? Describe it as vividly as you can. How can you utilize the signs and symptoms in your body and mind to catch them quickly so you can move in another direction?