Romp, expedition, adventure, odyssey, quest. Along the way, maybe I’ll find better words to describe my life. My days are filled with the work of raising children, serving a retired canine racing queen, trying to run when my body allows it, hugging my husband, choosing between board games, books, and sleep, and never being truly bored.
I hadn’t meant to post again today, nor had I planned on sharing my painting just yet, but then I remembered that it’s January 6th. For any number of reasons, today is discouraging. While my kids go back to school, both sharing concerns that their vaccines won’t be enough, people all over the United States deal with the painful realization that their country is not what they believed it to be or the equally painful acceptance that it is just what they thought it was. It is hard to believe in good right now. It is hard to trust that good is happening, has happened, and will happen. Telling our kids, “there’s nothing more we can do right now” is just a miniature version of the larger picture. There are things we can fix where we are, and things we have absolutely no control over. I can have my kids vaccinated, and I did, but I can’t control the suffering they will feel when their friends get terribly sick. I have chosen to align myself with a church that believes social justice is a priority and I can impact change alongside others like myself, but we can’t change the world. It is hard to see pain, to feel it, to live it, but this is central to being human. I can be brave where I am, as can you. Living, moving forward, trying to keep doing the right thing, whatever that right thing may be for you, is bravery. I felt hopeful when I painted this, determined even-to fight my own tendencies to stifle my spirit. I wanted to just be, to let the colors talk for me, to get messy with paint and exist as myself. It is brave to be yourself. Though you may feel small and insignificant in this universe, I assure you- you are not. There is only one you, which makes you extraordinary.
Beka Tucker 