Drawing Through Chaos
Ever had one of those days that tests your patience in ways you didn’t think were possible? My Italian immigration appointment was one of those days. Let me walk you through it.
This month, my partner and I finally went to the Italian immigration office for my permit to stay (permesso di soggiorno). Navigating bureaucracy is never simple. To get this appointment, we went through the city council (il comune), the post office (Poste Italiane), the apostille process… you get the idea.
But nothing prepared me for this meeting. How can I put it politely? It was a character-building experience, especially in terms of resilience.
We arrived much earlier than our 9:08 AM appointment, but still, we stood outside in the freezing cold with no access to a toilet and zero information. By the time we were seen around 11:30 AM, I could barely feel my toes. When it was our turn, I can’t help but heard the staff yelling at another immigrant like me for placing his fingers too high on the scanner, while the staff member handling my case seemed more interested in Instagram than my legal status in the country.
Honestly, I get better service ordering a croissant in English in Paris. (Okay, not true—I did say “Un croissant s'il vous plaît”—but that might have offended them even more.)
Of course, my application was rejected for incorrect documentation. They wanted the information from the two official letters from the council in a single document. Why? We dare ask, no response but if we couldn’t get it before lunchtime, we’d have to come back in four months!! Italians and i loro pranzi! (their lunches) are no joke!
We ran quickly across town to the council office, and for once, they actually knew what the immigration office wanted!! We ran back to the immigration office and queued up again while witnessing more refugees and immigrants getting yelled at. It was heartbreaking.
The whole ordeal lasted 5-6 hours. I stayed calm the whole time. Well, until I got home and almost burst into tears. If resilience were a subject, I’d get an A++.
This ability to handle chaos took me years to build, and meditative drawing plays a huge role in it.
Pic: Random lines I drew in a cafe with a calligraphy pen.
Before the meeting, to calm my nerves, I started a meditative drawing using simple lines. If you Google it or ask ChatGPT, it’s called Neurographic Art.
It’s similar to spiritual drawing techniques like mandala art, which I also enjoy, but for me, this technique is the simplest of them all.
You can do this anytime, anywhere. All you need is a pen, paper, and focus. Drawing skills and creativity are entirely optional. There are only 3 steps—and no rules.
Draw random lines that criss-cross each other. As few or as many as you want.
Round the "corners"—this means when you see a sharp corner (e.g., where two lines cross), smooth it out. Do this until your breathing slows down and your hands become steadier.
Fill in the space however you want. If it’s your first time, I suggest drawing simple lines or little circles repetitively. Keep going and focus on every stroke.
After steps 1 to 3, go wild. Pay attention to your breathing and the steadiness of your hand. Gradually, calmness will set in, you’ll find yourself breathing deeper, and your hand will become steadier, drawing more slowly. You can stop whenever you want or keep going as long as you like.
Video: Step 1 and 2 - Draw random lines that criss-cross each other, then round the corners where the lines cross each other.
I carried on with the same meditative drawing after the event. It really helped me process my emotions and allowed me to calmly write this blog. The problems aren’t going away, but my ability to handle them has improved dramatically. This go-to habit helps me greatly, and I hope you’ll give it a try one day.
With Love, Vienna
P.S.: Here are some of my meditative drawings from when I dealt with minor depression years ago. Better than taking medication, if you ask me.
