Each week, I try to attend a 30-minute art-making session in community where we do bilateral drawing. I do my best not to miss it because this particular creative practice helps me come into my body, ground, process emotions, release, and just find my flow in a piece of art that has absolutely no rules. This simple practice involves drawing with both hands, stimulating both hemispheres of the brain and engaging my entire body. It calms and reassures my nervous system and helps me integrate difficult emotions and experiences, allowing me to connect my thoughts, feelings, and bodily sensations from a place of curiosity, playfulness, and so much ease.
Bilateral drawing is such a fantastic resource because it challenges traditional views of productivity and art-making, emphasizing personal and collective (when done in community) care. It starts with focusing on breath and movement, drawing us away from overthinking and into a hands-on experience with our materials of choice. Choosing my materials is often my favorite part!
This therapeutic art practice speaks to the non-verbal parts of our brains, soothing feelings of threat and defensiveness. It offers a physical and metaphorical space to express, feel, and let go. It invites us to engage our bodies in a different conversation, exploring rhythm and movement as forms of care. This practice is about the experience of making rather than the outcome. It’s about how we feel while creating—how materials sound and feel in our hands and bodies.
Another one of my favorite parts of the Bilateral Drawing community space I attend is the last 5 minutes, where we’re invited to feel into our bodies and really get curious about what we may want or need as the session comes to an end. It’s like planting one final seed before we wave goodbye to the beautiful hearts we come together to make art with. And it’s just a really cool opportunity to get even more present and make the most of those final moments of play.
Today, I felt the impulse to grab some sparkly pink Play-Doh. For a split second, I heard a whisper of judgment (we’re all familiar with the inner critic who tries to be helpful but can often sabotage our good intentions to give ourselves permission to let go): “How are you going to do bilateral drawing with Play-Doh?!” she demanded.
“You’ll see,” I replied with a cheeky grin. Yes, I often respond to that critical voice in my head, especially when she challenges me, saying I can’t do something. I leaned into my curiosity, honored the impulse, and absolutely LOVED the experience. I delighted in the feel of my fingers squishing and stretching the soft dough into the carefree lines that had already arrived. I loved seeing the sparkles spread like joy!
There was a moment when I tried carving lines into the squishiness with a toothpick, but it felt nowhere near as good as smooshing with my fingers, so I went back to that and felt all of myself melt into the magic of the moment.
We can learn so much from how we show up for ourselves in gentle moments like these. We can learn how we listen to our bodies, our hearts, and our innermost beings. We can learn to sit with discomfort and dialogue with the parts of us that are afraid. We can learn how we give permission and how we make space for the parts of us that might not feel so sure all the time. No reason. No rhyme. Just an open heart and mind and a willingness to take a leap of faith just to see what might arrive. 🙏🏻💞
