52

Art-in-Motion
Bus Shelters ,Airdrie, AB

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It seems appropriate that on my 52nd year and after 5 consecutive years of 52 WEEKS projects I completed 100 paintings in 100 days.  It's like the culmination of great strides for me as an artist.  The icing on the cake, so to speak.

On this day, the day I become 52 years old, I will celebrate with Avenue Cakery cupcakes, a matcha latte, a good book, and a walk along the creek.  It's a perfect day for contemplation and gratitude for all the goodness in my life.  

Whenever I begin to focus on the negative, I have to make a conscious decision to think positively.  Not that I feel negative today, but I wanted to share an amazing poem that a dear friend sent me awhile ago:

She Let Go

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear.  She let go of the judgments.  She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.  She let go of the committee of indecision within her.  She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go.  She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go.  She let go of all of the memories that held her back.  She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.  She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go. She didn’t journal about it. She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn’t call the prayer line. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.