Some parts of growing older are lovely. Such as learning to make peace with oneself. It’s only been in the last few years that I have started to come to grips with my humaness; the fact that I will not always say, do, or understand things rightly. That getting it wrong is synonymous with the human condition. This immense relief of applying grace to myself quite naturally becomes applicable to others as well. We are all constantly in a state of change; we are all constantly in a state of becoming. We are all on a journey both inside and out. It’s odd to be this far along in my personal journey. When did that happen? Apparently when I wasn’t looking! Twenty more good years perhaps? Sometimes I am sad about that – so much unlearned, unspoken, yet to be done. Other times I love the way that knowing time is short helps me to live each day more fully. And then there are times when my heart aches for joy at the thought of leaving this life behind for the next adventure. I expect there will still be lots to learn there, but no more growing older. (Featured painting: SOLD)
I don’t do it all the time, but I have actually come to understand that talking through something out loud – yes – to myself, can help to clarify things. Here’s an interesting article. It mentions this, and other times that talking to yourself can be useful. It can even indicate an intelligent person who is more independent! Sounds good to me – literally. Here’s the article: “People Who Talk to Themselves Aren’t Crazy, They Are Actually Geniuses” from Elite Daily.
This is a first for me on the blog – and I know it is way outside the box – but I want to recommend a book to you. It’s called “David and Goliath – Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants” by Malcolm Gladwell. I have read one of his earlier works, “Blink”. It was okay, but it did not have anywhere near the impact that this new book has. The insights that Gladwell gives about people, movements, and revolutions will definitely make you think. Touching on many renegades, from the Impressionists (yes, there is an art connection), to Martin Luther King, to what happened in Northern Ireland, I have rarely read a book that was so captivating. Warning: some of the stories are completely gut wrenching, and I did cry at more than one of the accounts, but think that I came away with a better understanding of this crazy world we live in.
Last night I was painting in my studio when it started to rain – big drops. I immediately wondered if I had left the windows in my car open a crack. No sense wondering that all night, so on went the raincoat and out I trudged. Once outside, the rain was gentle and warm. The smell of freshness in the air was exhilarating. The half light was magical and the trees swayed a rhythmic ‘thank you’ as the rain swished through them. I marvelled at the immense blessing of this ablution – and my heart said ‘thank you’ too. The windows? They were closed, but it didn’t really matter.