My mom is an artist.
Before she was a wife, a mom, a social worker, or an executive, even before she was a college student, my mom was an artist. Right now in my parent’s home hangs a painting of a mother and infant which you’d swear was professionally done. I’ve always been in awe of the skill and talent in my mom’s hands. Even as the years have gone by and she’s stopped painting and drawing, the way she cooks, lays out a table for a gathering, even the little sketches she adds to greeting cards reveal the artist inside.
Mother and Child by Lesley Christian
Right now I’m away on a solo retreat, trying to get quiet and listen. I didn’t bring much with me other than a journal, my yoga mat, and a chair because I didn’t want to be distracted by things to do, even books I want to read. But I did bring a coloring book – I thought it might help me tune out the chatter in my mind. As I sat on the beach with the book in front of me, trying to select a mandala to color, I realized something: I am not an artist.
No, really. Looking at that blank white page, trying to decide which color to start with before I have an idea of what I want it to look like causes me to freeze. Now, I understand that this is just a simple coloring exercise and I’m not creating a masterpiece, but my perfectionistic tendencies and my desire to know the end result in advance prevent me from enjoying the process of creation as it unfolds. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life…
The dreaded white space…
I got started anyway. And coloring made me think of my mom, even though I don’t think I ever saw her color in a book. I know deep down, whether she ever draws or paints anything again, that she is an artist. That’s just who she is, the person she is inside. Each of us wear multiple labels: mom, wife, boss, coworker, friend, sister. Many times, those labels belong to lots of other people. But none of those people, even though they wear your same label, are you. A friend told me this week that I am a teacher and businesswoman – two titles I hadn’t identified in myself. But it’s not the first time someone has given me a label that felt unfamiliar and true at the same time. Sometimes, labels are reflected to us by others who see us. Sometimes we forget the labels we’ve always worn. I sat coloring and wondering – what labels do I wear? And what difference does it make?
Getting started…
It makes a big difference. The reason I’m here by myself for these few days is to keep moving toward what I’m here to do. There are lots of doctors, plenty of holistic healers, many moms, and other labels I wear. But none of them are me. I read this beautiful quote recently and it made me cry.
It’s what I hope my kids will figure out one day, what dream God has for their lives. It’s how I want to show up in the world, that I am here as the one and only unique me who has something special to offer. Here’s the hold up: God has the whole picture, and I don’t see it all. I get a glimpse of it here and there, and when I can’t see how it’s all coming together, I want to put away my markers and stop coloring. I freeze at the sight of the blank white page.
But there’s good news: it comes together if you keep showing up. When I start filling in the little spaces with color, it becomes clearer what comes next. The next color choice becomes more obvious. The further I go, the more full the picture gets, and the easier it is to keep going.
Coming together…
I’m pretty sure life is the same way. It’s not always clear to me why each facet of my life has been organized the way it has, but none of it is an accident. I’m who I am because I have something to give. And so do you. But each of us gets to do the work to find out what it is, and it becomes clearer and fuller with each step we take forward. Do you know why you’re here? Do you know what you’re here to give the world? If you don’t, it’s ok. But you’re going to have to go looking if you’re going to find out. And don’t be intimidated if you find a blank white page. Just start by asking how to fill it in, and step by step you will find your way.
Now, I am not saying that you have to do something famous or even noticed with your life to be worthy. You don’t have to write a best selling book, speak your message to millions, or serve in public office (you might, but that’s not for me to say!). Your open home might be what helps a lonely friend get thorough the holidays without despair. Your way of caring for those you work with might be what shows other leaders how to build a strong and happy workforce. Your way of engaging with your kids even when you’re exhausted may be what teaches them become giving adults. Your love of cooking and willingness to share it may inspire others to serve. And just as much as your mothering, your painting may inspire your daughter to envision a truer concept of womanhood.
One thing I’m learning: now is the time. It doesn’t really matter your age when you start, because you don’t get to know how much time you have. You may have 20 or 50 or 5 more years. I’m at the age where people I know are dying, people I went to college with, people who worked with me. Most of them would have thought they had many more years to live. So the invincible mindset that says, “I have all the time in the world” is fading away. We just don’t know. So if we have this day, we get to decide how we want to show up in the world. Today.
So who are you? You’re here for a reason. I’m here for a reason. Let’s go find it!
Do you know why you’re here? What are you doing to figure it out? Please comment below and let’s help each other move toward finding our way!