image by mike tinnion
It’s been just over a year since my last post. I’ve been finding it hard to write an entry because what do I say? I mean, while my days are quite full, meaningful things (things I think others might be interested in hearing about) rarely happen to me in a single event. Usually, it’s the culmination of occurrences that happen over the course of months, in this case a year, before something leads me to the keyboard.
And what a year it’s been—one big learning curve. The only other point of reference that comes to mind is my early twenties, when I graduated from university and was ready to tackle The Big Apple. It was an exciting time. I was armed with energy and enthusiasm and a reckless confidence that I could do anything! By this point, I had learned that hard work and a ridiculous belief in yourself was enough to get your journey started.
And if I’m honest, hard work, a ridiculous amount of belief in myself, and an unfathomable amount of good fortune have served me well. But, somewhere along the way, I changed. Little-by-little, day-by-day, I suppose you could say I grew up, and life became a lot more complicated than just hard work, belief and a bit of fairy dust.
Lately, I’ve been feeling stuck. I admitted as much to a friend and said I was waiting for the clouds to dissipate and the canvas of my future to be revealed. Now, if I had been in my twenties and she would’ve told me anything other than, ah, girl, I know how you feel or it’s time for a new job or let’s meet up for drinks and talk about it—basically anything other than surface-level support—I think I would’ve dismissed her comments as inconsiderate and insensitive to what I was going through. But when she gave a brief chuckle and told me that she didn’t think the clouds were going to lift and reveal my future, that in fact, the canvas was blank and it was up to me to paint it, I felt a renewed vigor, a certain degree of flexibility, and an endlessness of possibilities that I hadn’t felt for a long time.
I realized that my future had been waiting for me this entire time. There is no picture-perfect vision of tomorrow. Life is too expansive for that. The key is to just keep painting.
If you’re feeling stuck or are simply interested in where I’ve been getting some of my inspiration from this past year, might I suggest Brené Brown’s interview on marieTV. and The Hidden Brain 2.0 Series (this link is to their final episode in the series about getting “unstuck”). Note, I’ve just purchased Brené Brown’s book, Braving the Wilderness, and I’ll let you know how I find it in a future post!
This is so nice post!
Thank you. I am glad you liked it.
In your twenties it is only your canvass in front of you. Young with only self to consider. Now there are four, and two of them have taken a lot of attention and will continue to do so. Enjoy those bright colours and sometimes dark spaces on those two canvasses and watch as they change over the months and years. Panic when sometimes a patch of obscure colour seems to have ruined the whole scene, than relax as you see further shades added and it become a unicorn or a rainbow. Take what you have learned from the development of those two wonderful canvasses, reflect, and transfer it to the discovery of the work of art that is you.
Ah, Rose. How are you? It has been far too long!
Thanks for your kind words. They resonate with me right now. You’re right, there will be times of blank spaces and obscure colors thrown in, but that’s life, isn’t it? (Please say yes, haha!) I’m learning that not every course can be charted and not every path will be followed.
I’m learning. Everyday. Haha…
New subject: Book recommendation for you! Title, “e” by Matt Beaumont (https://www.amazon.com/Novel-Matt-Beaumont/dp/0452281881). It’s a fun read and a quick one. Something to laugh at on a rainy day.
It has been far to long. I need to visit you sometime soon. Yes, that IS life, and we just need to immerse ourselves in it. I’m a planning addict, which is ok 80% of the time, but taking chances and a different line is ok too, as long as you commit to it. You know how you draw a line in pencil to cut a piece of wood, then deviate the saw a bit to the left, or right to get a better fit? It’s genius when you decide to do it, but can be catastrophe if it’s just a slip of the hand or a wobble of nerves. (Like I’ve ever sawn a piece of wood!). Anyway I think you’ll get what I mean. Love to everyone.
Love your friend’s wisdom: that the canvas is blank and it’s up to you to paint it. Yes!
Yes she is ☺️