Wanting To Save the World
Close up of Remembering the Paces, 2021, Acrylic on canvas
Hello!
This is one of my goals this year: to return to regular blogging. I write almost every morning, but the pages of handwritten words only get seen by my eyes. I am wanting to be a bit braver this year and put my thoughts, stories, dreams and art prompts out into the world more, without relying purely on social media platforms to communicate.
So here we go. Thanks for reading. I hope to post once a week and would love to attempt to answer any art questions you may have.
As many know, at the end of December Boulder County was struck by yet another tragedy. A wild fire swept through the parched land and claimed 1,000 houses. People literally ran for their lives and homes that held collective memories were swallowed by flames. The devastation is great, the pain deep. Many families at our school were effected. Sitting beside the grief is the beauty of community rallying together to help, to donate, to gather needed items. To hold one another.
I’m the type of person that wants to do it all. Help here, give there, donate money, go through my closets and find items that might help others. And this need to do it all can paralyze me and make me not do anything, honestly. I recognize that this pattern of wanting to do it all, of having big goals come to life and flourish, can often leave me overwhelmed and inconsistent. Because it all just feels so big. And something like the recent fires, collective community trauma, is big.
So what is one to do?
Break it all down into bite size chunks. Go through your clothes, weeding out the junk, and give them to one clothing drive for fire victims. Give money to a few families. Give a small gift to one child. Volunteer your time for a few hours at a donation center. Make a couple of meals. Do something but don’t think that you have to do it all….because you can’t.
Slow down. Regulate your own breathing and anxiety if possible through activities that feed you. This is really the only way to be present and helpful for other people. Mine are: moving my body outside, writing, meditating, making art, reading a book of fiction, doing a crossword puzzle.
Return to your art practice, where process reigns over product. Where the small, brave choices are rooted in presence and curiosity. Don’t have an art practice? Scribble furiously with pencil on a piece of paper. See what images arise. Turn on a favorite song and sing the words out loud. Look outside and write about what you see, using that as a jump off place to then write for 15 minutes.
I need these reminders in all areas of my life right now. Something about the new year, digging back into loved routines after the holiday happenings, remembering how to get the engine running in sustaining and joy-filled ways. Reminding myself that progress is quiet and slow and that that is ok.