Forward

I’ve been thinking about opportunities lately. Over the last year I’ve been presented with many opportunities. Some disguised as changes or challenges or even as catastrophes. As we turn the calendar on March, I’m reminded that Spring is the season of opportunity where buds long dormant begin their trek toward blossoming. Sometimes it happens overnight. Just last week I noticed that from Tuesday to Thursday, the Bradford Pear tree outside my window transformed from a woven pattern of bare gray branches to a fluttering display of white-petaled blossoms.

As I’m considering the opportunities before me, more and more I’m feeling the weight of a choice — the choice between what is familiar and comfortable and what is new but uncertain. It’s the choice that must be mastered with virtually every opportunity. I’m recognizing about myself that often that place of familiar wins out simply because it has the assumption of security and stability. To reach toward something that is unknown is scary, even when the possibilities of that something are abundantly apparent.

This life doesn’t come with annotated step-by-step instructions. Each twist and turn in the road requires some sort of risk and unknown. The only alternative is to stay still and close off that every-widening journey of opportunity.  When I take time to think about how I really want my life to be — my work life, my home life, my digital life, my inner life — I find that I don’t want to let simple familiarity govern my attempts to attain it. I want to embrace the opportunities that take me where I want to be. I don’t want to settle for simple security. I want to dare to imagine that day-to-day existence that inspires me. And I want to orchestrate whatever comes my way to help me achieve it. Thoreau expressed it well in his Walden treatise…

“if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavours to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

Success unexpected in common hours. In finding the courage to choose to move in the direction of that life we imagine, we are most assured of success. Each step toward what we dream brings with it the freedom and joy of moving. Moving forward. Moving toward something, even if that movement contains a little retracing.

That’s the inspiration for this month’s desktop wallpaper design. I want to reach forward. Spring forward. Even March forward. And, as I begin acting with confidence, reclaiming areas where I’ve surrendered my dreams to the commonplace for the sake of what’s simply become habit, I find myself gaining that familiarity that was so comfortable. I find myself gaining a familiarity with my own dreams, with my own abilities, with my own voice, with my own direction, with my own confidence and courage. So, I weigh those opportunities, and I know. I know from that most familiar place–the heart of me–what will get me closer to that dream. I know what it feels like to reject standing still. To move forward.

[Click the desktop wallpaper version above to download and enjoy with your technology and grab these iphone and ipad wallpaper version as well.]

Discrepancies

It’s February, and the month invariably seems to bring our attention to love. It’s inescapable. And while I don’t always buy into the hearts and flowers mentality this time of year, I want my heart to be committed to pursuing and grasping a life characterized by love. A life centered in real and genuine love. A life that rejects the imitations. A life that acts out all the discrepancies love reveals. A life that loves in little things and big things, regardless of distractions.

One of the realities about love I’m continuing to learn as I travel this road toward paying attention is that to love is always to risk. It’s true. Having my children has taught me that lesson more than any other experience, for sometimes even the simple act of letting them out of my sight is an assault on my heart. There is no love without risking myself — risking damage to that core of who I really am, where I live and breathe. Real love always involves opening and exposing myself. Giving myself. Acting outside of myself. And in the face of all the discrepancies inherent in pursuing a life of love, I find myself committed to that openness.

I made a decision in my life a long time ago that having an open heart was important to me. That remaining open despite circumstances was valuable. That exposing my heart to the full weight life (and love) have to offer was the only way to really infuse that life with true meaning, certainly the only way to really see and be moved by the people around me. The only way to distinguish true love from its pale comparisons. Yes, it’s a risky endeavor. Inspite of the risk and even my own disappointments, the opportunity to love is everywhere.

But, love can be a struggle. I don’t know about you, but I’ve experienced those times when the simple opportunities to love those around me were lost in a sea of roles. A sea of expectations — many of which I place on myself. In the day-to-day of life, I’m a parent, a designer, a cook, an organizer, a cleaner, the all-knowing finder of favorite toys and lost clothing, the ever-present referee for playtime games and stories, and the obligatory standard for kind and “loving” behavior.  In the pursuit of love, at times I’ve been a trophy. I’ve been somewhere down someone’s list. I’ve been the caretaker, the mother, the unheard voice of reason. I’ve been the assumption, the provider and the significant “other.” It’s hard not to see myself only as a reflection of those things. And certainly of my choices to continue in whatever roles may stifle me, and even inhibit my ability to love. It’s hard to continually pull myself out of those roles and be generous or giving or creative or whatever else is required to live that open life I mentioned. It’s hard to keep my heart open when it means being able to feel the brunt of those roles and positions head-on. The discrepancies of life and love can be staggering.

Here’s the thing. Love is finding joy. Love is a place of peace and acceptance. Love is hoping and blessing. Love is giving away. And, love is hurting and being disappointed. Love is misunderstanding. Love is trying and sometimes failing. Love is discrepancy.

I want to run from the discrepancy. My soul wants to fly from it as fast as it can go and never look back. My heart wants to close itself up tight and pull the covers over its head. But, it doesn’t. It won’t. For love is far too important a vehicle for experiencing the world. And love is far too important a lifestyle to teach. Real life and real love are about those discrepancies. They are about slippage and imperfections. About disorder and unpredictability. And at the end of the day, they are about hope and faith. The assurances that a life of love is worth it — whatever it takes. Whatever letting go, whatever grasping, whatever denying or embracing, whatever ending or beginning, whatever exposure of myself. A life of love is worth it. It’s worth the full measure of all that I have.

In keeping with that realization, this month’s desktop wallpaper takes its lesson from Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The encouragement is to love both to the full “depth and breadth and height” my soul can achieve as well as back to the simple response of “everyday’s most quiet need.” Yes, that’s a life worthy of pursuing.

[Click the desktop wallpaper version above to download and enjoy with your technology and grab this iphone wallpaper version as well. Happy February!]

Resolved.

As the waning days of 2010 slip by, I find myself resolved. A new year often brings with it the pressure of resolutions–that laundry list of things we want to add or subtract or change about our lives. Sometimes the pressure of actually choosing the transformations we want to pursue are just as daunting as carrying out the resolutions themselves. After all, making resolutions requires that painful task of self-evaluation we tend to avoid. It involves taking stock of life and commitments and habits and determining their value or effectiveness. Ick. The self-help mantras usually encourage that the most successful New Year’s resolutions are those that are specific. And, I tend to agree. This year, my resolution is pretty specific.

No resolutions. Simple resolve.

Resolve calls to mind determination. Firmness. Having made up one’s mind. And I have. New Year’s Day ushers in a new year. And this year, newness is a blessing I am prepared to embrace. With all the successes and challenges experienced in 2010, I’m determined to embrace the ripeness of this new turn of the calendar.

A new year.
A new day.
A new attitude.
A new opportunity.
A new look.
A new habit.
A new step.
A new path.
A new start.

Resolve is like a restart for our minds and hearts sometimes. The new year, 2011, is filled with new days and new moments. New moments are just that. New. And new means I’m free to release that moment from past decisions, past mistakes, past habits and even past accomplishments. Embracing that new moment means cultivating a willingness to let go of the constraints of our own old ways and the benchmarks of our own old strides. Whatever past success or failure, THIS new moment deserves that freedom. THIS new moment can thrive in that freedom. THIS new moment is alive in that freedom.

So, in 2011 I’m resolved to let new be new. I’m resolved to let go and hold on tight. I’m resolved to make these new moments mine.

[Click the desktop wallpaper version above to download and enjoy with your technology and grab this iphone wallpaper version as well. Happy New Year!]

Tues Twenty 122110: Sights of Christmas 2010

12 Days of Thanksgiving: A

Art.

I’ve been looking at pictures this morning. Little Drummer Boy, Bug and Baby Girl are fond of creating pictures and selecting prime locations to place them in my office. They each have a unique way of expressing themselves through lines and colors and pictures. Their varied creations are such a tangible reminder of the blessing they add to my life at every turn. And they are a reminder of the precious value of their own imaginations that I hope to instill in each of their hearts.

Little Drummer Boy is the storyteller. His pictures are illustrations. They record whatever seemingly random series of events playing out in his mind. He has recently been much more interested in recording these images in shapes and density, a penchant I credit to his kindergarten class where each day they “write” in their jourals, even if “writing” is really drawing. It’s communicating in written form.

Bug is the free spirit. His pictures are a symphony of line and color chosen with deliberation–the exuberance of his spirit unsquelched by the limitations of a crayola box. He makes much less of a production about presenting his work. I often find Bug’s creations scattered about in unexpected places–little slips of paper inside my desk, propped on the piano, inside his pocket, on stickies attached to various furniture surfaces, occasionally embellishing the furniture itself. He sees no need for a “finished” product. It’s not uncommon for him to add lines and colors to the same piece of paper for weeks. The act of making the lines just seems more important to him.

Baby Girl is the newbie. She’s more interested in the tools themselves. While she’s moved beyond wanting to eat the crayons and the paper, she would still rather make her creations with a crayon unencumbered by it’s paper wrapping. So her preparation time is filled with peeling it away to explose more color. Still, fueled by her brothers’ examples, she has begun making her own haphazard scribbles.

I find myself in each of their creative tendencies.

Since I began working from home in July, my office (and it’s many surfaces for artwork display) has become a center of excitement for my children. I suppose they feel that they are getting to do something special when they can hang out in Mommy’s office. I’ve tried to cultivate an office space that is inspiring for me, since I spend most of my time here creating and designing. But, I also wanted it to be a place where they feel comfortable and welcomed. It has been a wonderland for them to visit because they have never seen so many of the things that exist in the Small Pond Graphics hub.

Oddly, that’s one of the biggest blessings of this year. Before I started my business this summer, all they knew of Mommy’s work was that she did it. She dropped them off at daycare and went to that place in town they sometimes visited to do whatever Mommys do when they work. That was the extent of their exposure to the creative life that fills so much of my time. I’m so thankful that now they know more. Of course, they don’t understand it. They don’t know what the computers do beyond providing photo slide shows and access to Sesame Street games. They don’t know what all the books are besides colorful spines and strange pictures. They don’t know what the shelves house except the ready crayons and construction paper. But, they know something interesting happens here. And they know Mommy does it.

We are born creative. Of that I am convinced. There is much debate over whether humans are born good or bad, perfect or flawed, natured or nurtured. But, when I read that we are created in the image of God, the core common element I see is creativity. Of all His glorious and inexplicable actions, creating was the first act recorded for the Almighty. In His benevolence, he chose to imbue OUR existence with that same tendency. The opportunity to show my children that reality about themselves has become very important to me. However that creativity manifests itself, I want them to see how it shows up in me and to explore their own creative bents.

Several years ago when I started this blog, part of my motivation was to find a personal creative outlet that wouldn’t disrupt my time with the children or provide any hazard to them (in the way so many art supplies can). But, I had also come to the realization that there was this whole part of me that my children had never known beyond crazy cupcake and party decorations. I’m an “artsy type.” It was quite a jolt to realize that my children might not really KNOW me and the pursuits that matter to me. EyeJunkie provided a way for them to watch me, to see me writing, to see me thinking, to see me making pictures on the screen. Small Pond Graphics and its downstairs home has been another catalyst for them to know their Mommy in a new way.

Art in one form or another has been a large part of my life for a very long time. From my youngster days watching my mother use her creativity in various ways, to my years studying Architecture, to my day-to-day work life, “the arts” have impacted me. Because I work as a graphic designer, I’ve spent my adult life “doing” art every weekday. And although I would probably more accurately classify my work as “communication” rather than “art,” it’s been part of my job to expose myself to many vehicles of inspiration and to immerse myself in the work of other creative types.

With the launch of a new venture, I’ve had the opportunity to explore that creative inspiration with fresher eyes. It’s allowed me to focus more on the sheer act of creating. Given the freedom to set my own schedules and parameters, it’s allowed me to examine my best creative habits and tendencies more carefully. It’s given me the opportunity to get back to the basics of my own creativity–a blessing that can be so easily snuffed by the cares of real life. It’s a joy to me to infuse my day-to-day experiences with the expression of art and creativity. It’s a privilege to be paid for that sort of thing. It’s a blessing to share that love with the little creative minds I’m nurturing.