We haven’t yet outgrown coloring books around here. Recently I realized the torch has been passed when my eldest daughter came home with several new books to add to our household collection. Up until now, it has always been me keeping the crayons, colored pencils and gel pens in order and providing a periodic fresh supply of inexpensive coloring books.
Coloring books have never really been about arts and crafts in our family, but more of a stress-reducer, relaxation or settling tool. Something to do when a person has worries or troubles or feels a little “off” or out of sorts. They’ve been a fine group activity to do while having a conversation or watching a movie on a sopping, rainy day. Not to mention that coloring books and convalescence fit together like peas and carrots!
I cannot claim the therapeutic coloring book technique as my own invention. When I go to visit my paternal grandparents (who are in their eighties and still living independently), my grandmother still has a deep drawer in her sturdy coffee table where the coloring books are kept. She hasn’t thrown away a single one in decades. She always kept the coloring books and crayons there for anyone–child or adult–to pull out during a visit. At her house, we were encouraged to sign and date our pages so what exists in that musty drawer full of snippets of torn crayon paper and waxy shavings is a family history. My own kids can see pages colored by me when I was 4 or 5, or when their Aunt was 7. And they’ve added their own pages to the priceless collection.
So, I believe in coloring books and we’ve certainly found them to be a fine therapeutic activity around here, no matter what the person’s age–it’s not about artistic development or what colors get used, or even whether you use crayon or colored pencil–it’s about settling in and giving the brain a chance to work things out.