This week, I finished wrestling with a painting, and I do mean wrestling. This painting took me 4 months to make.
Along the way, I experienced all the emotions - frustration, joy, excitement, boredom, procrastination and fear. You name it, I felt it with this painting. There were times I wanted to work on it and times I wanted to do almost anything else.
But looking back, something strikes me about the whole experience. At every stage, I felt alive.
Even when I was frustrated. Even when I had no idea what to do next. I was involved in something that mattered to me; making decisions, following ideas, discovering what I thought by seeing what happened.
And that experience was so valuable - even if no-one else ever saw the painting, I had gained so much from its creation.
I’ve been thinking about this because of the responses to last week’s email, in which I wrote about a reader’s concern that my life had become too small.
Thank you for the wonderful messages you sent. Many of you recognised that tension between the life you want and the life other people think you should want. But a few replies contained a warning. I must be careful not to become selfish. I must remember that life isn’t all about me. Some reminded me that we are here to serve God.
Oh trust me,... my problem has never been thinking life was all about me. My problem was that I spent almost 50 years thinking it wasn’t about me at all.
I gave away great swathes of my time on this planet to keep the peace; to make sure nobody was upset or disappointed; and to support other people's needs, even when it meant setting aside my own needs.
I knew this made me unhappy. But I thought other people’s happiness mattered more than mine and I saw myself as a tough cookie who could handle more unhappiness than most people.
It seemed like a reasonable arrangement for a surprisingly long time. Now, I look back and shake my head in wonder.
Of course it’s wonderful to care for other people and I don’t want to lose that part of myself. But what about me? Where do I feature in all this care and concern?
I think many women will recognise the habit of considering everyone else before ourselves. We become so good at noticing what other people need that we can barely answer the question when someone asks what we want.
Or we know what we want, but feel we mustn’t be too selfish. We must justify our desires.
Which brings me back to art.
It’s easy to justify making art if you can point to something other people value. A sale. A prize. An exhibition. A lovely comment from someone who admires your work.
Those things are wonderful - I enjoy them too. But there is so much more available to us than approval.
There is the experience of making. I love the absorption of working something out. I love the excitement when an unexpected mark suggests a possibility. I even enjoy the frustration of knowing something isn’t right, because I know the solution is out there somewhere. Most of all, I love that when I am making art, I don’t have room in my head for all my worries and concerns - it’s like taking a little holiday every day.
None of that becomes worthless if the painting doesn’t sell. We deserve to have all that.
As for God… if you believe you were created for a reason, surely the things that make you feel most alive are clues to what that reason might be...?
Perhaps your desire to paint, write, grow things or make music deserves some attention. Perhaps it’s something you were given to explore, rather than something you’re supposed to spend your life resisting.
Some people feel called to medicine. Some to political change. Some to making art. There are many ways to contribute to this world, and I don’t think we were given talents and desires just so we could ignore them and go do something else.
I know what happens when I paint, or when I make an interesting video, or when I become so absorbed in writing one of these letters that I lose track of time. I feel fully and completely alive and more importantly, I feel I’m using something in myself that wants to be used.
So this week, I’d love you to consider a question. When do you feel most alive?
You don’t have to be especially good at it. You don’t have to know where it’s going. You don’t have to turn it into a business or prove that anyone else needs it. Just when do you feel most alive?
Just notice what comes to mind.
And if your immediate response is that making more room for that thing would be selfish, perhaps stay with that thought for a moment. Where did you learn that? Why do you believe you are less worthy of happiness than others? What do you imagine would happen if you took your own wishes seriously?
There may be real responsibilities to work around (there usually are!) But somewhere among those responsibilities is a person whose time here is passing all too quickly.
What would you love to give her the chance to do?