My yoga teacher said something lovely at the end of our practice. She was talking about forgiveness, and how you can choose to forgive someone as well as you can, from where you are now.
My heart softened when I thought of not trying to force the ideal, but instead, allowing myself to do something to the best of my ability. It’s like stretching: if you try to force your muscles, they tighten. But if you slowly relax into the stretch, your muscles gently release a little at a time, increasing your reach.
It’s also like that with art, with writing—with any creative expression.
When I was younger, my standards for my writing and painting were so high, I thought I could never reach the ideal in my mind. And I thought that meant I was failing. How discouraging.
And how wrong.
It’s not about being as good as someone else, or being better. It’s about being genuine. It’s about growing into yourself as an artist, kind of like a puppy “growing into” her paws.
The ideal is meant to inspire, not discourage. When I paint, I have an idea in my head of how I want it to turn out. But often, something that I didn’t intend changes the end result—kind of like life!
When I judge the final result based on that “mistake,” I think it’s not good enough. But when I look at the whole, I often like it anyway; sometimes I love it!
It’s not perfect; it’s just the best I can do. (And next time, I know what to do differently.)
You have something you aspire to.
If you don’t start, you won’t get there.
So start now, right where you’re at.
