Want to know a secret about me?
I have energy coursing through my fingers — ALL THE TIME. It’s my secret superpower… though I don’t always view it in such a positive light.
Today’s photo introduces you to some new tools. Not my usual needles, horsehair, and thread, these tools help me to channel my finger-energy superpower in constructive directions.
See, I bite my nails. I pick at my cuticles. I pull at my eyebrows compulsively.
Over the years, I’ve sometimes thought myself weak in the face of these urges. Weak because I haven’t been able to stop the behaviors consistently for long periods of time.
But then, when I really look at it…
Sitting in meetings or lectures, I often glance around the room. Most people sit calmly (externally, of course; I have no idea what’s going on in their minds!). Their hands rest immobile in their laps or on the table. Perhaps a few hands are doodling.
I used to marvel at the stoic strength I imagined those still-handed people possessed. Why was I so weak that I couldn’t just keep my hands in my lap like everyone else?
It took me a while, but slowly it dawned on me that most other people weren’t exerting any will at all to keep their hands still.
Nor were they demonstrating any strength.
They simply didn’t have the same impulses coursing through their bodies as I did. As I do. The same energy coursing through their fingers.
Don’t get me wrong. They surely have other challenges of their own, but their hands… Their hands are still.
Mine are always in motion. I pick at every imperfection on my cuticles, and I pull on my eyebrows and eyelashes. Itches need scratching. Sleeves need straightening. The energy doesn’t rest.
For me, sacred needlework, stitching buddhas, is a way to channel that energy, to transform it into wisdom and beauty and inspiration.
The same fingers that pick at each other and pull out my eyebrows can wrap the most exquisite cords of silk. They find joy in making and are always willing to pull out stitches that aren’t quite right. And to stitch them again, and yet again if necessary.
I have hoped that this channeling of the finger energy into art would result in a cessation of my self-destructive picking and pulling.
Not only have I hoped, but I’ve engaged in every therapy and treatment form that’s ever shown any promise. And I’ve been successful, sometimes for months at a time. Once, even for a year.
But after a while, the energy returns without fail. It will not be quelled. The fingers start moving and picking and pulling again.
I’m still hoping.
But I’m not waiting around. In the meantime, I’m making beautiful things that bring me joy and that serve to inspire others. For that, I’m grateful.
I have come to understand that I may never subdue that pulsating finger-energy. And I may not control it very well either. But I can dance with it. I can honor it. I can see its gifts alongside its torment. It’s taken me a long time, a lifetime, to get here. And the acceptance is not constant. A lot of other people who suffer from these conditions are much more deeply tormented. Children who pick and pull are humiliated and ashamed.
This tormenting condition has a name. It’s called trichotillomania, which is actually no kind of mania at all.
It’s just the irresistible urge to pull out one’s own hair or, in my case, eyebrows and eyelashes. And, in my case, it’s connected with the compulsion to pick at any imperfection in my skin too, especially on my fingers.
The Trichotillomania Learning Center (TLC), founded by Christina Pearson in 1991, is the only organization dedicated to research and treatment of compulsive hair pulling and skin picking. There’s a wealth of information, resources, and concern there. And for the next two months, they’re sponsoring the Hands-Down-a-Thon, in which I’m participating and for which I’d like your support.
My personal commitment for the next two months is to wear gloves whenever I’m reading and writing at home (I’m wearing them now!) and to play with Crazy Aaron’s Thinking Putty (far superior to Silly Putty) when I’m reading and writing in public. While stopped in traffic, I’ll hold onto my stretchy, squishy, fiddly toy. These practices will impede me from using my precious finger energy to harm myself. You can see all my tools in the picture!
At the same time, I commit to publishing photos of my completed Samantabhadra thangka at the end of October. My finger energy will be channeled toward the creation of beauty and the inspiration of others. Including you!
To sponsor me in the Hands-Down-a-Thon and make a donation to the Trichotillomania Learning Center’s work, click the button below and go to my fundraising page. All funds go to the TLC, to support research and healing for hair pullers and skin pickers. Thank you so much!
By the way, do you have any energy demons in your life? Can you find a way in which those same energies are also your greatest strengths and allies?
I guess I know. The urge to be creative, and sometimes when I don’t have ideas to be just doodling around. I remember that there is a rule for monks not to pull out grass; I would be a bad nun if picking one’s own skin was forbidden. What to do? Practise awareness and Choed, in my case. Give the body away. That’s what I try.
Hi Eva. Thanks for responding! I see from your blog that you make things with thread too.
I don’t think forbidding is a very effective way to change behavior. I prefer awareness, as you suggest, and cultivating the willingness to be with discomfort, to rest right in the midst of it.
I sometimes experiment with this with itches. Rather than willing myself not to scratch, I explore the sensation and rest in it. As long as I remain aware, it’s not so hard to rest there. But when I go unconscious, my hands go on automatic and scratch. It’s the same with picking and pulling. If I rally all my awareness, I can remain with the impulses and experience the sensations. Problem is, I also want to write and read and drive and have conversations. I haven’t yet developed an awareness that remains stable while I’m doing all those other things, and I start to pick. Alas, a life’s work!
I agree that Chod can be a wonderful practice for this, at least for releasing the personal identification with it all. Wishing you the best in your practice and your creativity!
whew….thank you, Leslie! I never knew!!
Now it has a name! When I worked for the government, I pulled out odd hairs from the top of my head- any that felt irregular, or kinky, instead of smooth. I didn’t know that I was annoying others because it was so unconscious. I was so stressed. So, I put that picking energy to work pulling weeds from my own, and others’ flower gardens. I became the best weeder there ever was. Now I bead, and stitch and create my own sacred art: I just had my first art show. I have been in service to Tara’s sister, Mary, in her aspect as the Virgin of Guadalupe in Mexico. She chose me, gave me a child, and a new life once, so I stitch her radiant beauty. I wept with joy and deep recognition when I saw the film, Making Buddhas. What music do you listen to, for Tara’s creations ?????????? Thank you soooo much, Susanne
Dear Susanne,
I actually don