Today I'm painting a chair yellow.
As I carefully sand it down, I picture it tucked away in a corner of my little black and white kitchen, adding a touch of cheer even in these cold winter months. As I brush on the first coat of primer, I relish the cocoon of silence surrounding me broken only by the slight strains of classical music coming from Addison's room. The piano performing something Baroque is accompanied by soft snoring from Carter's room.
Though my hands diligently work their therapy magic, my mind spins- thinking, wondering, puzzling over this past year.
I wonder what the balance is between working to become a better version of myself and simply just accepting myself for exactly who I am. I think of the stress that I place on myself from trying to be the best, do the best, push forward to the next phase when everything just seems to push back stronger than I can fight. I puzzle over choices that I make every day, wondering if I'm placing priority in the right places.
I'm not going to write a highlight reel of fabulousness from this past year like I'm seeing done on so many other blogs.
Because I'm painting a chair yellow.
One stroke at a time the drab brown is transformed into the color of my current obsession- yellow. The color of smiley faces and lemons. I'm not sure what 2013 is going to bring. I'm not making a list of "pushing towards perfection" because I'm exhausted from that being the theme of 2012 and letting it control me.
I'm just going to take it one stroke at a time- careful to not drip the paint or let it clump together in a pool of excess paint. While I'm concentrating on that then my mind can't linger on the pressure cooker of opinions and standards swirling all around me.
While I paint I think about how thankful I am for all of you. You read my blog- you share it- you talk back to me. I love what we have here, and I love that you make that possible. Thank you.
I smile as my two children come to mind. Perfect little mischief makers that I love with such intensity that I don't even know how I survived before they were in my life.
My husband who found a way to make playing in the snow a career is busy working, but I wonder what he'll say about my new yellow chair.
Stroke, stroke, -wipe splatter off wood floors-, switch brush to the other hand, stroke, stroke
A string orchestra joins the piano in a lively Classical piece, and I let myself stop thinking and just suspend in the moment.
But that only lasts for a brief minute because then my mind begins to work on my Costco list for this afternoon. Hubs will probably like the yellow chair a lot more if there's food in the house when he comes home from work.
My spirit settles into something resembling happiness as I know that despite my tendencies to be my very worst enemy, 2013 holds a lot of promise....one stroke at a time.