Fly

I have a thing for butterflies. I mean, how cool is it that they begin as creepy-crawly, leaf chewing creatures who morph into beautiful, delicate, fluttering nectar-drinkers. And I'm not alone in this. They have inspired books. Consider the book Hope for the Flowers by Trina Paulus. The life cycle of a butterfly is an apt metaphor for life and death... and life again.

Butterflies often appear in my journals, paintings, photographs and mixed-media pieces. As I played in my journal today, I was reminded that I, too, was made to soar. I was not made to creep along the ground forever. My wings are growing daily. I am like the butterfly who must tear herself out of her cocoon to gain the strength to fly. Facing and overcoming obstacles is an integral part of my future strength.

So, my lovelies, remember that we all were made to soar. God has placed that in us. Our part is to become strong in truth. To know who we truly are and how God sees us. To use our time, strength and gifting to find our wings. To become fully alive.

You are an incredible and unique being. No one on the planet has your exact ability. No one can take your place. So go for it! Don't waste another minute on the lies of self-doubt. You were truly made to soar. I believe it with everything inside me and I'm excited for  your journey ahead.

Oh, and I love you. Bunches.

Wounded Healer

Did you ever notice that some people seem to have more patience to listen to your woes than others? And I mean simply listen, not offer any unsolicited explanations or  solutions. I have a handful of friends who are willing to provide this act of kindness for me. (You know who you are and I treasure you!) Other than paid professionals, this seems to be a dying skill. Or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

That said, Henri Nouwen (pronounced Henry Now-wen), a well-loved priest, professor, and writer  is attributed with coining the label "wounded healer." Truly, the last thing I want to hear when I am in the middle of one of those dark stretches of experience life brings is, "this will make you stronger, more compassionate, more [insert positive quality]." Those wise, and possibly true, insights only serve to make me want to pinch/punch the speaker.  Or bury myself in some sugary, carb-y food solace. Neither will help us through these kinds of times. Trust me. Been there. Done that.

Having experienced a number of dark times, it does encourage me to know that they were not without benefit. Looking back, I would not be the woman I am today. Those times were like the chisel that freed this new creation that is me. They shaped me: hammering me into shape, digging out unwanted parts, sanding away at  sharp edges... You know the drill. And people who have suffered these heart-rending processes are more apt to recognize others in the same process. And offer the kindness of simply walking along the painful road with them.

So, dear ones, hang in there. I pray you find a tribe, okay a friend, who will be there with you. Who will listen with love when you share. And know that you will come through this. You are stronger than you think. You are a truly, truly beautiful creature.

And I love you. Bunches.

Trust Your Talent

I was well into my forties before I  began making marks on paper with crayons and colored markers and pens.  I was definitely a late bloomer. But I had two wonderful things going for me then. First, I was willing to be a beginner.  And second, I had a cheering section of one. Both things helped propel me down this colorful path I have come to love.

I began drawing my feelings first, ignorant that I was joining the modernist movement of Expressionism.  I wasn't trying to make "art" but was simply trying to make sense of my inner world. Someone once said you have to make a lot of bad art before you can make the good stuff.  I did that and found I feel more alive during the process of art-making. Still do.

My cheering section, The Professor,  loved the final outcomes of my mark-making long before I could see any worth in them. He built me a round "Happy Fun Table" which took over our tiny dining area and let me "make messes" to my heart's content. Every night I would get out a few supplies and play.  Much of what I did then stayed safely hidden in my journals, however a best-loved piece, Wood Between the Worlds, came from those early days.

I know some of you have started playing in your journals, some with words and others with colors. Enjoy the process. Take a little time to play some each day. You don't have to show the outcome to anyone. Do it for you. I think you'll grow to like it. All you need to do is to be willing to be a beginner every day. And you have me in your cheering section. Because I love you. Bunches.

The Scent of Change

I have a board on Pinterest I've labeled TRUTH where I save inspiring quotes and positive messages I want to remember. I know that kind of thing doesn't float everyone's boat, but it works for me. I can so easily forget that I have the ability choose how I feel. Checking my TRUTH board can refocus an unraveling day.

Anyway yesterday as I was trolling Pinterest, I found this John Steinbeck quote about change coming like the scent of hidden flowers. Anytime I catch the sweet scent of unseen flowers, no matter where I am, I stop dead in my tracks and hunt for the fragrance's source. I want to identify and commit it to memory. To savor it fully.  I want more of it. As much as I can get.

So what if we applied the same diligence to embracing, say, new health habits? What would that look like? Looking with anticipation at the desired changes rather than aversion? Learning to savor rather than cringe over the challenges that accompany change? Or does it hint that like it or not, change happens before you see it? Or does it simply mean that we sense the need for change before we can fully experience it? I don't know, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

The flowers in the picture were printed using my StayzOn Black Ink Pad from a stamp I made  drawing on a styrofoam cheese tray I'd saved for that purpose. Then I used my trusty Inktense Pencils by Derwent and Twinkling H2O's by LuminArte paints for color.

Remember to take some time to enjoy the flowers today... because I love you. Bunches.