Finding Meaning Through Art: A Personal Exploration of Emotional Intelligence and Creativity

 

 

Happy New Year!

I recently finished exploring Emotional Intelligence and started reading Man’s Search for Meaning.
Both texts hold great importance to me.
They contain ideas that help me recognize, reflect on, and better communicate what is happening in my interpersonal world—my inner world. These texts, along with my prior knowledge and faith orientation, have allowed me to make deeper sense of myself and my psyche.

One piece of insight I found valuable during my time at Wake Forest was a comment about developing my theoretical orientation. A peer, after meeting with a professor we both admired, shared what she had learned from him. I didn’t make it to his room; I got caught up laughing with another professor about a skit she had just performed with her colleague. (I’d love to tell that story someday, but not now.) My peer told me something to the effect of:

“Do you want to know what he said about your theoretical orientation? He said, ‘You are the theory.’” You. Are. The. Theory.

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"Sometimes it seems life is trying to drown us. 

Really, if we look again, it is giving us a chance to show

the resilience of our soul." 

That statement resonated deeply with me. In the world of counseling and psychology, there’s an ongoing conversation about how little attention is given to the Black male psyche and experience in the United States. I appreciated that lens and felt empowered by it.

I want to build on the ideas of those who came before me, but I also want to use my own eyes and mind to speak clearly about the issues I see. Viktor Frankl’s observations, particularly through the lens of his experiences surviving a concentration camp, hold a special significance for me. If he could find meaning in such a hellish environment, surely I can do the same for the challenges I face in the United States.

Recently, I’ve come to realize what I’ve truly been devoting my life to. I thought it was basketball, art, or even a certain flavor of Christianity. But honestly, it has been a dedication to studying my inner life—my thoughts, feelings, experiences, and imagination.

My mom used to say, “Be mindful” before I left the house. I think she meant, “Pay attention to yourself and your surroundings.” I coupled that wisdom with prayer and creative catharsis, and over time, I found myself feeling grounded.

However, it wasn’t until I began exploring my feelings of anger and sadness that I lost my way. I still created, but I didn’t have a sound inner experience. I was suffering from life transitions and pain I didn’t know how to handle effectively. Sometimes it seems life is trying to drown us. Really, if we look again, it is giving us a chance to show the resilience of our soul.

I used to hide my feelings in art. Then, my college girlfriend helped me strengthen my writing, and I started using it to not only be creative but to clear my mind. There’s research supporting the effectiveness of journaling for mental health. However, using language isn’t the best way for me to deal with my feelings.

I must use the language of my feelings—experience, art, imagination—to process them. Art is my way. Freestyle poetry. Freestyle rapping. Dancing. Comedic scenarios. Impersonations. These have been my outlets, more so than sitting down to talk or think through emotions, though those approaches have value.

So here’s what I’m getting at:
If I am the theory, one thing I’ve noticed is that there’s a creative element at my core. My emotional experience benefits most when it’s expressed through art, creative writing, and speech.

I always think about a final paper I wrote during my senior year of college. It was my best attempt at being explorative and “free” in my storytelling in front of people who mattered to me. The paper was a collection of Facebook statuses, freestyle thoughts, overheard conversations, and language I thought would resonate with my audience. I wrote about polyamory, sexuality, and folk myths.

At the time, I was just writing to get the assignment done. I didn’t know who I was talking to, what I was saying, or even what my creativity evoked in others. Over the years, I’ve outgrown the need for “shock creation”—creating in a desperate attempt for connection. Now, I create to share my perspective on life as art, or art as an imitator of life.

These days, it feels more important to unpack my experience of using art and creativity to reach beneficial emotional states—or at least states where I can think clearly and treat others kindly, without projecting my unresolved feelings onto them.