Each week I write a weekly summit. I list my “Ta-Dahs” (accomplishments), my “things not done”, my AHAs, and things to do in the week ahead.
To further keep myself focused, I record my deeds each day — it’s too easy to forget that I’ve done much of anything unless I record it.
Still, something’s missing. I can tell by the empty feeling that remains.
Purpose! The “why I’m doing or not doing something” matters. I long for a sense of meaning and purpose in life.
Yes, this truly IS a “first world issue”. My basic needs are met. I have food, water, fresh air, and shelter. I reach for meaning.
I seek happy accidents too.
I chase the magic of wonder and discovery with each brush stroke.
Maybe that’s why I allow my paintings to linger rather than rushing to finish them.
Painting is a process of unfolding to all that the painting has to offer. I don’t want to rush it (and possibly miss it) by moving too quickly.
My brush strokes are applied quickly with a bold assurance that I may or may not feel.
Then I wait.
“Only paint what you know to paint” is one of my regular mantras to myself and to my students.
This means watching your painting and waiting.
Wait to paint until you’re moved to paint the way you’re moved to eat when hungry.
For some, the art of putting paint on paper or canvas is reason enough to paint.
I want more. I want to feel enriched, enlivened by what the painting reveals to me through the process.
I look to the world in a similar way.
When I go for a walk, I look for clues that I belong in this world and on this walk.
A heart-shaped rock, a piece of coral, or a swirl in a tree, sends me love from the universe.
The cracks in the sidewalk remind me of a circus act or a tightrope walker and I’m cheered on to entrust my soul to the divine for another day, another painting.
Am I blessed or cursed to have this outlook? That depends on how aware I am each day and how I interpret what I see and feel.
Keeping a sunny outlook depends on me doing my inner work daily.
And knowing that some of my days are diamonds and some are rust. Just like everyone else’s.