Journey of a thousand miles

Many moons ago there was a young girl who loved to draw. Evidently she showed some promise in the arts because at the behest of her mother the local art instructor looked at the young child’s portfolio and allowed her to enter into her class. She was the youngest the instructor had ever taught and was the youngest in the class. Childhood development is such a complex subject. You would think that being allowed such an honor would have given the child a boost, but instead it allowed the child to do what we all start to do by a certain age… compare ourselves to our peers. When your friends are 3 years older than you at 40, it’s not a very big deal. But when your friends are 3 years older when you’re 6, it’s a whole different ballgame. Hand eye coordination is completely different for the two groups, and so when the young child could not keep up, it became a fact in her brain that she was not good enough.

Note of interest, if your child is in a group of children, regardless of age but especially if there is an age difference, they require some support. They may even require someone telling them it’s ok to go at their own speed. It’s ok to not be perfect. I know I would have benefitted greatly with the knowing of that concept. The absence of such set the scene for my whole life.

As teens we often look to our peers to help shape our identity and our futures. Still, one should never dim their own passions because they feel someone else does it better, even if that person is someone they care about. How much time was lost creating epic art in the pursuit of other passions trying to allow someone else to run with spotlight of “great artist”? Honestly, none, because time spent enjoyed wasting was not actually wasted. But still, one can’t help but wonder how life might have played out if there was just a wee bit mental support for just one kid. Perhaps all of my artistic goals would have been met by now and I would be on par with so many other artists that I so admire.

Ironically that other person didn’t run with the title anyway when given the chance. What some people see as “potential” is just what they would do in the other person’s shoes if given the same circumstances. It isn’t a loss of potential that the other person retains free will to choose how they want their life. It is after all their life. We all are only responsible for our own lives at some point.

Perhaps if there were perfect parents, there might be a perfect person once in a while, but there’s just not. We all have something to overcome, and realistically some more of us have more than others. Some of us spend our time seemingly aimlessly mucking about trying to find our way when in reality it is simply our own responses to our own or even our parents unresolved trauma. Honestly, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it took me so long to realize that my need to be in a helping profession actually stemmed from a deep seated belief that I had to earn my right to existence. I’m even more ashamed to admit that it took me almost 40 years to find the right helping profession for my personality. However, I’m the most ashamed of myself for thinking that I had to sacrifice my entire time on this earth helping others because art was not something that could do the most good, because I was very, very wrong.

Art is one of the purest forms of expression of our own humanity and our own experience. Art allows us to see each other and connect more than anything else on this planet. Art helps heal the soul from the inside out. Art helps us process our time as humans on this planet and allows us to support our own healing and each other. It is for this reason that I refuse to spend all my time focusing on my own self promotion as a mental health counselor but also not solely an artist, because I am both. The two are not mutually exclusive and I remain dedicated to being a healthy whole person within that is able to be both and sharing the two worlds simultaneously for others.

The universal truth remains that we cannot go back and do it over again. All we can do is share our truths and hope that those who come along after us learn from it. While I am so very grateful to have all the various avenues of knowledge and be known as a “jack of all trades,” I can’t help but envy a little bit those that have but a singular passion. We are finite creatures with finite energy. One must choose how to prioritize how one spends the 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4 seconds they are allotted any given day. We do not know how many days we will actually be given. So knowing that one day our time will be up and our choice gone, why aren’t we all running headlong into our wildest dreams?