Living the Art

Something has been itching to get out. Be released from my hands. 

It is a most peaceful day. Inside a warm, candle-lit home, warm colors of brown on each of us. Outside it is rainy, gray sky covering heavy as a thick blanket. It is quiet. Still enough to hear the candle's flicker and the soft ticking of the wall clock.

These are the days I yearn for and live for... peace, sense of calm, breathing slow. 

Yet there is something in me today that feel about to burst. An energy underneath the routine. 

I can envision a setting deep in the jagged mountains, hidden and sheltered with tall pines, streams of bitter cold water rushing alongside. Me placed in that setting, next to an easel and full spectrum of colors of paints, brushes. Open white canvas. 

A dream.
Something to dream about, close my eyes and imagine the senses working in overload to take in each sensation: view, sound, touch, scent, taste (well, that must mean I have fresh hot coffee in hand, too! Mmmm.).

But I realize that I am here, in my own familiar home. So familiar. Outside these windows I see warm yellow leaves falling off the trees like snow, covering the cold ground with a thick layer of gold. 
And I love this. I love the view. 
It's just that occasional ache to push a pause button on the ordinary and take a stroll along the creative, the fresh, the invigorating. 

My spirit settles into a warm place when I open my journal and start writing, creating, recording. My eyes must open wider when I remember to be aware and I can take in a sight of wonder. My fingers fly on the keyboard when thoughts come pouring in with desperate need to be shared. My heart beats with a passion and affirmation of purpose when I receive feedback for something created. 

"Art is when we do work that matters in a creative way, in a way that touches [people] and changes them for the better.”
-Emily P. Freeman "A Million Little Ways"

Where do you open yourself up to use your gifts, creativity, art?

I look at the whole of my days, the majority of the minutes:

They are spent changing diaper and diaper for my littlest. Washing my hands over and over. Preparing meals for those particular eaters. Folding the clothing of my dear ones. Reading stories. Playing goalie. Listening to the repeated phrase "Blue 42. Blue 42. Set hut hut hike." Tidying up toy piles. Sorting paperwork at the desk. Researching public budgeting topics on Google. Getting another cup of "juice water" for those boys. "Momma! Momma!" with yet another question. Never resting my body until late at night when all small ones are in bed. (Then collapse, some days. Spent.)

Where can we find the art, passion in these moments? 
Looking at it as if ALL has the potential for some sort of creativity, music, joy.
Singing soothing words to my baby during a diaper change?
Praying as I suds up my hands?
Listening to inspiring words, music during cooking time?
Cherishing those little outfits as I take another item off that laundry pile? 
Cuddling close and breathing in my boys while it's storytime, even if my hair is tugged and my personal space is overwhelmed?
Hmmm. Maybe there is potential for living in the ordinary routine of life and looking for the beauty and art. 

"Do what you are called to do, from God's intended place for you."

-Priscilla Shirer "Lessons from Gideon"

Awhile back I wrote on facebook: "Thinking recently of the art of CREATING in each of our lives: In addition to what we imagine to be art, as in drawing or painting or sculpting, but also including hospitality, conversation, caring, cooking, riding, nurturing, constructing, photography, dancing, writing, singing, performing, humor, envisioning..."

These thoughts encourage my soul. That the creative can be in any moment, any task. Ones that bring that Boost to your spirit. That nurture you at your core and help you remember that life is bigger than the work, the chores, the daily stuff of our lives.

Now I know life is not all about our pleasures. There is deep hurt. True unmet needs. Real pain. Long, silent suffering. 
It's after those moments, during a break or lull, that we can open ourselves up to the beauty of the creative, of our gifts. 
Yet sometimes it is in the midst of those moments that is possible for that beauty to overwhelm in the most peculiar and lovely ways. Like a fragile ornament to be delicately touched and appreciated. Keeping the wonder of the moment within grasp, as a possibility. That is the answer for me. And to never forget the Maker of those wonders. 
Then life has a driving force to press you forward, a place to jump out into each day with passion urging you to continue along the path of your journey. One foot in front of the other, but with a sometimes-skip in your step. 

Maybe someday I will get to that mountain dream and settle into a chair and just paint, capture a scene with a photograph. But for now, there are giggles to be heard and questions to be answered ("Do whales have tongues, Momma?"). And that will be okay. Just keep on seeking the art and the beauty. And this spirit God gave you, gave me will be nourished.

Blessings, 
Elizabeth