A reflection on art, meaning, and what healing could look like when we meet people where they are

Being in charge of Ellenhorn’s brand and being heavily involved in how we tell our story, I spend a lot of time thinking about what people truly need in order to heal. When I hear about individuals struggling with their mental health or with so-called “addictive behavior.” My mind goes quickly to how a program like Ellenhorn could support them, not by pulling them away from their lives, but by meeting them in the middle of them, helping them heal while still working, creating, connecting, and living. Everyone deserves care that allows them to stay connected to their own lives, their passions, and their communities.

So when I found myself standing in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, reading Vincent’s letters on the walls and following the arc of his life, the thought I could not get out of my head was: “This guy really could have used a PACT team.”

So many of the quotes Vincent wrote in his letters, the longing, the sensitivity, the weariness and wonder, felt like they could have come directly from one of Ellenhorn’s clients today. The story of his life, too, mirrored so many of the challenges we see in our work: the isolation, the intense emotional experience of the world, the clash with expectations of family and society, and the desperate search for meaning and connection.

While it’s never productive to judge history through the lens of today, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if Van Gogh had access to a PACT team. Would he have lived longer and painted more of the works we now cherish? Could he have brought to life his dream of building an artists’ community in Arles? Might he have found more healing, more belonging, or even a greater sense of stability in his final years?

A Life Too Bright, Too Fast

Van Gogh described himself at times as a “broken pitcher that could never be mended.” His neighbors feared him and petitioned to have him institutionalized. He was hospitalized after what would now be understood as a series of extreme events of mind and mood. He lived through waves of deep sadness and disconnection, often feeling like an outsider in both his family and the world.

Still, he kept painting. He painted from his hospital room when he could not leave, looking out through barred windows at the wheatfields and morning sun. “Through the iron-barred window I can make out a square of wheat in an enclosure, above which in the morning I see the sun rise in its glory,” he wrote.

The structure of painting gave him purpose. Nature gave him peace. Creativity gave him a place to belong. “Painting is a faith,” he said, “and it imposes the duty to disregard public opinion.”

His work was a steady thread through the periods of intense inner turmoil. “Doing nothing was unbearable,” he said. Art was more than an outlet. It was a survival strategy. Even when the world misunderstood him, painting allowed him to remain tethered to something larger, something essential.

What is PACT?

At Ellenhorn, we operate a model of care known as PACT — Program of Assertive Community Treatment. It is a gold-standard, multidisciplinary approach that provides psychiatric care in the community rather than in a hospital. PACT teams are composed of clinicians, psychiatrists, nurses, expressive arts therapists, vocational specialists, peer mentors, and more, all working together to walk alongside the individual through their recovery.

Unlike traditional mental health care models that often isolate people from the lives they are trying to rebuild, PACT is embedded in the fabric of daily living. The team meets the person wherever they are, physically, emotionally, existentially, and builds care plans that reflect the full complexity of their goals, identity, and history.

Thinking about what I witness when I see Ellenhorn’s PACT teams in action, I’m consistently moved by the creativity and flexibility present in the work, even when it has nothing to do with the expressive arts. Clinicians collaborate in real time with clients as new challenges emerge, adjusting course in ways that are deeply attuned and hopeful. Treatment at Ellenhorn is not about checking boxes. It is about helping clients uncover their own strengths, build self-efficacy, reconnect to purpose, and remember that they are not alone.

Our teams wrap around each person in their existing environment, their home, their neighborhood, their communities, and offer not just a clinical perspective, but also a sense of belonging, continuity, and faith in their ability to heal.

Van Gogh’s Struggles, Still Familiar Today

So many of the obstacles Vincent faced are still mirrored in the experiences of young people we work with today. He struggled to feel “launched” into adult life. He lived with parents who didn’t understand or support his dream of being an artist. “Pa cannot empathize or sympathize with me,” he once wrote, “and I cannot settle into Pa and Ma’s routine. It’s too constricting for me, it would suffocate me.”

He felt torn between the pursuit of his passion and the pressures of a world obsessed with status and productivity. When his brother Theo considered leaving his job to start a new business, Vincent returned from a visit feeling heavy and anxious. He wrote, “I too still felt very saddened, and had continued to feel the storm that threatens you also weighing upon me… my life, too, is attacked at the very root, my step also is faltering.”

His longing for community was profound. He imagined a house in Arles where artists could live and work together. He befriended Dr. Paul Gachet, who encouraged him to paint without restraint. Vincent called him “something like another brother.” Still, the isolation, financial pressure, and fear of returning psychiatric events weighed heavily. He once confessed, “I didn’t know that one could break one’s brain and that afterwards that got better too.”

Despite that fear, Vincent continued to believe in the healing power of art. “There is peace even in the storm,” he wrote.

What If Van Gogh Had a Team?

It’s impossible to know what might have changed if Van Gogh had received the kind of support we now offer through PACT. But I like to imagine what it would have been like if he had a team that came to him, who respected his artistic identity, who saw painting not as a symptom but as a strength, and who helped him keep living even during the storm.

He might not have had to choose between being an artist and receiving care. He might not have had to endure long stretches of isolation in a hospital. He might have realized more of his dreams, not just for his art, but for community, companionship, and a life of connection.

That is what we offer at Ellenhorn: not just treatment, but the chance to build a life. A chance to feel human again.

The Real Goal of Healing

Van Gogh said, “The more I think about it, the more I realize there is nothing more artistic than to love people.” That love, that care, that deep seeing of another person — that is at the heart of what Ellenhorn does.

We believe that people don’t need to be removed from life in order to heal. They need to be supported in building a life worth living. Not a life without struggle, but one that holds meaning, connection, and the possibility of growth.

Van Gogh never got that chance. But our clients do.

And every time I see one of them begin to believe in themselves again, when I watch a team member meet someone in their pain with empathy and creativity, or witness someone take a step toward reclaiming their story, I’m reminded of how transformative this model truly is.

Because the goal isn’t to fix anyone. The goal is to help them build a life worth living.