Time Alone

Perhaps being at home these days has opened up some new pathways in my brain. Maybe playing with my collage paper, beads, stencils and scraps of things have freed me from my constant need to 'do something' constructive.

Time Alone

This morning at around 3a.m. I woke with a start. Canvas frames and brushes woke me up. I tried to reach quietly for my pen and paper in the drawer beside me. Not quietly enough, as I heard my husband stir. This was early, even for him.

If I ignored the words that reached me, I knew they would have vanished by my usual waking time. It was the time to jot this down. So here goes...

It's not the size of the brush we are handed at birth that dictates the size of the life we will lead. (Tweet This) Why do we choose to draw within the lines of expectation? Why don't we strive for the largest canvas we can, and let our brush grow with us?

Many of us have been contained, by the culture of our birth, our sex, our size or the faith we were born into. Does 'don't show off' sound familiar to anyone? But who we are inside is not born of the things we are born from. 

Look in the mirror, no, stare in that mirror.

The person in there has been obliterated by custom and what we have chosen to hold on to. That person, the singer, the artist, the chemist, the dreamer can be set free.

Let's use this time, this time alone, to stare into that mirror. To put aside our calendars, our lists, and remember who we left behind by every decision we made along the way.

Let's hold on to the good friends, the family member who inspired us, the new and the old in our lives, the ones who 'get us'. 

It is the time to re-evaluate, to re-flect, to re-create. Because when all this time alone ends, we get to be who we are inside.