Honoring Ourselves

My son was born an artist. I've felt it long before I had the proof by watching him. Before we met, I knew. He is a wonder. Feed him love and watch him fly. He comes alive when he expresses himself. He lights up. When he creates by playing a part, or speaking in an accent, or making up a song, there is no right or wrong. In that moment, his life is his. His spirit is untouchable. His Universe belongs to no one else. He hides it from no one.

He's been drawing lately and he's good. Remarkably good. This isn't just mama talkin'.

Lately, his head has been interfering with his process. He stops, gets frustrated, shuts down, and starts measuring his value. He says he can't draw. He succumbs to the questioning he's confronting. He does that with math. Always a right and a wrong answer. His heart doesn't speak that language, you see? He overwhelms himself at the thought that he needs to be a certain way under certain subjects. It's not natural to him. It's not natural for any of us. We have just forgotten.

My heart breaks. It breaks because I can easily relate to the feeling. I realize that it's my adult relating to the growing person inside of him. I recognize that I'm observing my child filling with fog, we adults work so hard to clear. The fog of questioning and worrying about our worth. The fog that freezes us from being freely us. We become experts at watching it come and fanning it thinner. If we even find the courage to try at all.

It becomes my duty to remind him. To open a window. To bring him back to what will always be true. This is the child we need to continually nourish and listen to. The knowing voice we must allow to lead the way.

You are enough.

Please make art with your life and tell us about it. Surprise yourself. You are a wonder. A continuously unfolding masterpiece. Let the unknown guide you. an exquisite life is in living the questions. Playfully. Imperfectly. A child does not measure how much they don't know. They laugh at the nonsense of mistakes. They find themselves in awe of what they discover at their feet. May you bow to your inner child; always in awe by what is at yours.

'...to the child whom this grown-up once was. All grown-ups were children first. But few of them remember'     ~ Antoine De Saint-Exupery   ~ The Little Prince

I hope you allow yourself a lifetime of remembering