There’s this wall in my apartment that I stare at when I need something. That something can be inspiration, courage, hope. It’s my Image Map, a visual representation of who I want to be and who I feel I am.
I heard about an exercise years ago in which the placement of images on a poster board could help turn visualization of goals into manifested realities. I cut out photos of pencil-thin models, fast cars and other glamorous images dutifully. Mission Accomplished? Yeah, if the mission was to depress myself into an inadequate funk.
Now, sometimes it takes an exercise finding us on its own time before it clicks for us. Doing something because it sounds like it will work isn’t the answer. We have to feel it asking to be done. And so it happened.
I found myself tearing pages out of magazines, clipping photographs into appealing shapes, and glue-sticking them into a huge collage. It now fills an entire wall in my apartment, and it truly motivates me. There’s a cozy fireplace, an indoor swimming pool, a woman roller-blading, gorgeous meals on beautiful china, a female film-maker hard at work, a man lovingly holding his son, a couple embracing tenderly, friends sharing a coffee moment.
These images are emotional, not mental, not physical. I suppose the waifs in my first collage could be considered emotional, but they did not conjure positive feelings in me, only negative, self-defeating ones.
There is nothing wrong with having, and stating, our own goals for our “perfect selves.” But it is a complete self that feels rewarding to pursue; not an image that reflects none of our soul.