Twice a week, I sit at my desk from 7:00am until 2:00pm, and something magical and distressing happens---it's a blink. It's me at 6:59, opening my Feedly, pulling out my pens and turning on a podcast with a wiiiiide open day and then it's 1:59 scrambling out the door to meet the school bus. The only other time in my life I've felt time not pass like I do on these sacred two days is when I used to run long distances. That body and that brain are of a former self, and I'd long forgotten that Flow could be a reality. It's Just. So. Great.
Today during that greatness, I binged on podcasts and heard a spiritual leader say that we need to stop saying, "I'll never be _______." Instead we need to say, "I'll never be as ________ as I want to be, but I will be enough." I'm not sure that applies to all circumstances, but it applies to some.
And it applies to this: I'm trying to take risks this year. To make use of these days (as they will not exist next year) and to write and draw in ways I've only fantasized over. Part of that is illustrating a story, and these snapshots are sketches from a book about grandmas. There are all kinds of grams out there, and they all share one thing in common. They love those grandbabies. Whether they show it in hugs or they show it in emails, they love those grandbabies. Here's two of 'those ladies:
This book will never look like I want it to, but it will be enough. And that will have to be okay. Because having time to create "okay" is a blessing indeed.