I’ve been so bogged down in work and running around lately. Lately meaning, as far back as I can think right now. All the while, I’ve been trying in earnest to be more present and mindful in each day and moment. I always seem to fall right back into worries and stress, no matter how hard I try not to. I know life comes with stress, and that a lot of it simply can’t be avoided…but sometimes I feel like I am wearing concrete boots in the middle of a sea of quick sand. Have you ever felt like that?
Thankfully, my husband is the best possible supporter I could have been blessed with. Rob never stops picking me up, dusting me off, and placing me back on which ever shelf from which I fell. He is my everything. And, he is the one that encouraged me to start painting again. I never stopped on purpose you see. It’s one of those things that happen when you grow up. I just sort of never got around to it anymore. Sure, scrapbooking or baking occupy me and make me smile. Photography is fun, and I have a penchant for covering anything I can get my hands on with paper, but there’s something about painting. Creating something from a blank slate.
Maybe it’s the fear I have of not liking anything I do, but I think its a combination of all of my emotional issues. I tend to implode and become still when I am stressed or scared…which is most of the time. So painting something seemed like a lost cause. Why, you know? Why start something I might hate, waste all that time or money on materials? That’s just how my brain works.
Well, Rob doesn’t see life that way. He keeps nudging and encouraging me, and so a few weeks ago he made me do something for me. That’s the problem. I have an extraordinarily hard time doing something simply for me…past taking a walk or making a cup of coffee, that is. So when I had a single small pay check from my job at the restaurant, he drove me to the art store and told me to buy myself some paint. The universe had the same idea since the forty-eight tube set of acrylics was on sale for 50% off. After a mini-breakdown in the paint aisle over saving the $24 for something we needed more, Rob marched up front and paid for the paint before I could change my mind.
Thank God for my husband. Paint might not cure anxiety or depression, but there is definitely something to this art therapy stuff. Sure, I still have the ups and downs that come with working on the painting…pressing forward to find the piece in that blank space, but I feel so much better after I spend time doing nothing but moving colors around on that canvas. Life goes away for a while and I get to be happy in my own little world. I like that.
So, my point is that I have been diving into my painting again! Living here in northwest Pennsylvania and so far from my beloved ocean, I naturally gravitated toward the nautical. I like to think I have an inner mermaid, so I decided to try my hand at letting her come out. I’m pretty happy with the outcome…
I hope you have something in your life that brings you joy, like painting. It can be anything…gardening, reading, travel. What ever it is, do it. Taking time for yourself is not a luxury, it is a requirement. One I’m learning about daily. Go find your inner mermaid…I sure am.