As I found myself at a pause with a couple of big projects, I picked up a book on drawing in hope of entertaining my immediate gratification girl. “Patience is a virtue,” was the lesson way back sometime, as it remains today. What do they say; the universe gives us opportunity to learn, upon opportunity to learn, until we hopefully get it. So, I wait patiently for the scanning to be completed in someone’s busy schedule and I learn to draw.
“What?” you exclaim.
Yes. Did you know that I hold my pencil wrong?
“Although I paint,” I have often joked, “I can’t draw.” My scribbled little sketches are seen clearly enough by my brain to usually pick the right brush and stroke when I am at the canvas. This has never ceased to amaze me.
Yet, now, 2 days and 25 pages in, I hold my pencil differently. I stand at my easel and draw. Dots, lines, shapes and shadows, bottles, glasses, pitchers and things. Each simple sketch fills me with joy.
Please recall that I studied Communications and Nursing in college. Then spent the last few decades in health care and administration. I did not take photography in high school because I couldn’t draw, and art was a prerequisite. Yep, (my head shaking) “I can’t draw,” has been a message I’ve given myself for most of my life.
Isn’t it funny how we can limit ourselves with a single seemingly harmless thought. I can’t draw, I can’t dance, I can’t sing, I can’t do math, I can’t ride a bike, fit in, go there, talk to her, jump from a plane or climb a mountain… What are we telling ourselves, our friends, the universe, with such a harmless little statement? I can’t succeed, I am not worthy, I am settling for less.
Do you have an I can’t in your vocabulary, conversations or thought stream? The truth is, you probably can. Should you truly allow yourself a chance, you will not fail. We are each capable of great things, no matter how small they may seem in our very full lives.
I have stood on great red rocks looking down at the planet, and on a point with the ocean to my left and a river to my right, both, when I knew I was afraid of heights. I didn’t listen to my I can’t. I gave myself a chance at I can. I may have counted my steps when the path was steep and narrow but it got me to those breathtaking, joy filled moments. Now, I stand at my easel, pencil in hand, one step at a time, and I draw.