I thought I'd show you my abide Post-it Note. And now you can see that it's actually a more complex, fancy Post-it Note than I lead you to believe in my cubicle life ramblings.
Yes, this is a two Post-it Note reminder: that's how much I need to hear this message about remaining calm, about how I'm not, nor do I need to be, the center of attention. The Big Deal. The Envy of Those Around Me.
Bonus with this: you can see my art skills. I certainly don't want to brag {that would go against my declaration not 3 seconds ago that I don't need to be a Big Deal}, but I definitely have the drawing-a-tree thing down.
Should you ever come to my house {and you're always welcome...unless it's past 10pm. My early-to-bed-early-to-rise body shuts down then, and I a1a) start not making much sense, and b2b) am more likely to get snippy with you.}...so should you ever stop by at a previously-approved hour, you'll see that trees figure prominently in my artwork.
I just finished a painting that's a close-up of a tree.
In one of my favorite paintings—the only one I've ever titled—I painted a tree that has just one little bud on it. It's called "Hope Springs."
I've written about trees, too. You can read this thing I wrote for my church's blog, and you'll see yep, once again, there I go with the trees.
Do you ever look back on times in your life and realize that there was a theme running through it? Like very obviously running through it? You're not sure how you missed it when you were living it, but hey, daily life sometimes has a nasty habit of obscuring all but the most mundane {until you look hard enough past that}.
It was only this morning, as the beginning of a poem about a tree came to me while I was running, that I realized that trees and branches {and all the accoutrements of trees} could be called a theme of my recent past.
I think it's the strength and changeable beauty combined; I think that's what is drawing me to trees right now as an image of reassurance.
Think of it this way: a lot of us, me included, have trouble adapting to change. But when I see the first burst of autumnal color—when I see those first few leaves starting to turn—I can't help it: I am excited by that change.
I know it may sound silly, but once you realize that you can be excited by change, you start to see seasons of transition a bit differently. You start to see the beauty and the bursts of color. You start to see the leaves on the ground {which you know should represent death} as proof that change can be invigorating...if you kick through it hard enough.
This is a very spare explanation of my current tree obsession, but I hope you can see now why a Post-it Note with only a branch on it can help me handle the hard days at work.
Yes, this is a two Post-it Note reminder: that's how much I need to hear this message about remaining calm, about how I'm not, nor do I need to be, the center of attention. The Big Deal. The Envy of Those Around Me.
Bonus with this: you can see my art skills. I certainly don't want to brag {that would go against my declaration not 3 seconds ago that I don't need to be a Big Deal}, but I definitely have the drawing-a-tree thing down.
Should you ever come to my house {and you're always welcome...unless it's past 10pm. My early-to-bed-early-to-rise body shuts down then, and I a1a) start not making much sense, and b2b) am more likely to get snippy with you.}...so should you ever stop by at a previously-approved hour, you'll see that trees figure prominently in my artwork.
I just finished a painting that's a close-up of a tree.
In one of my favorite paintings—the only one I've ever titled—I painted a tree that has just one little bud on it. It's called "Hope Springs."
I've written about trees, too. You can read this thing I wrote for my church's blog, and you'll see yep, once again, there I go with the trees.
Do you ever look back on times in your life and realize that there was a theme running through it? Like very obviously running through it? You're not sure how you missed it when you were living it, but hey, daily life sometimes has a nasty habit of obscuring all but the most mundane {until you look hard enough past that}.
It was only this morning, as the beginning of a poem about a tree came to me while I was running, that I realized that trees and branches {and all the accoutrements of trees} could be called a theme of my recent past.
I think it's the strength and changeable beauty combined; I think that's what is drawing me to trees right now as an image of reassurance.
Think of it this way: a lot of us, me included, have trouble adapting to change. But when I see the first burst of autumnal color—when I see those first few leaves starting to turn—I can't help it: I am excited by that change.
I know it may sound silly, but once you realize that you can be excited by change, you start to see seasons of transition a bit differently. You start to see the beauty and the bursts of color. You start to see the leaves on the ground {which you know should represent death} as proof that change can be invigorating...if you kick through it hard enough.
This is a very spare explanation of my current tree obsession, but I hope you can see now why a Post-it Note with only a branch on it can help me handle the hard days at work.
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