Each day we’re handed a band new empty canvas to paint the kind of day we choose to live. You don’t have to be an artist to paint. We are as creative as the creation we come from, and that creativeness is an expression of who we are. No one else can paint from the depth of our personal heart and soul. We carry with us a lifetime of feelings and emotions both good and bad. What determines what we paint today is contained in the color of choices we choose to pick from.
We can cover our canvas with the deep blood red of our pain and leave it like that to look upon all day long. Or we can choose to take some white and paint around the edges until we’ve formed the heart of Love within our pain. Maybe even if we look close enough we begin to see the perfect spot cracking open where we add a little yellow to let the Light of Hope shine through.
Maybe conflict has us so mixed up that we keep dipping our paintbrush in different colors creating nothing but the strokes of a dark twisted dull brown baron tree that seems to be chocking the life out of us. Or maybe we could find a way to breathe again by washing away the clumped up brown conflict from our paint brush and setting it aside. Now it’s time to turn our conflict into possibility’s by taking one paint brush at a time dipping one in green for the leaves that bring forth life. Then the color of flowers that will soon bare the color of fruits our efforts have produced and the seeds of possibilities it leaves behind.
Today is the first day of the rest of our life. Another chance given to choose the colors of peace or blackness of anger and hate.
What colors will you choose to paint with today?
“The sailor cannot see the north, but knows the needle can.” -Emily Dickinson
As I begin my day I’m always so excited to be at the start of what I call a clean slate. Maybe a little too excited that I begin to paint what I cannot see yet. As I stand back to look at my canvas I’ve painted nothing but clouds because I haven’t taken the time to see in what direction my inner compass is pointing. How does the needle know? How do we even trust what can’t be seen? When we are lost, what other choose do we have? I can wonder around the sea of life without anything in sight to paint upon my canvas or I can let go and choose to trust in the stillness of the moment in which the needle has time to settle.
It is then that I’m able to connect with my inner spiritual guide as I hear it tell me this morning to take my time. Slow down. Wakeup. Be in the moment. Look around. Smell the candle you lit. Taste the coffee you drink. Feel the chair that hugs your body. Hear the ticking of the clock. These are my inner compasses. My inner tools. My inner senses. They are the colors and brush strokes I use to paint upon the canvas of my day.
Now I’m really excited to be alive. How can I not be when I’m reminded that I can enjoy wherever I am with every fiber of my being simple by bringing myself back into the awareness of where I find myself right now. It sounds so easy but that’s the beauty our free will gives us, to choose the kind of day we want moment by moment.
Ah…September, I love this time of year. Yet for me so many sad and unkind things happened, but I hold no grudges or animosity. For all I’ve experienced in these autumn months have taught me many lessons about how precious life is, and it still holds within it the birthday celebration of our first born. I love the pungent smell of leaves and earth mixed together. Then there are the apples and pumpkins, spices of cinnamon, cloves, and ginger. The last hurrah of the flowers as they give us their most vibrant display of colors before the winter months set in. Warm evenings beside the fireplace, and lots of snuggling with Tom and Ollie. Yes, if I allowed myself to be caught up in the grief of my past, and for those I’ve lost, I’d only be compounding my sorry by not seeing what this wonderful season has to offer.