I have a routine on Mondays. I come home from school drop-off, pop in my earbuds, and get to work— dishes in the dishwasher, beds made, groceries ordered.
This particular Monday was no different. I pushed play on my favorite Monday download, Mike Birbiglia’s Working It Out podcast1. But as I listened to the artist he’s interviewing, I realized this Monday will be very different. Because what the artist just said changed my life.
“I used to paint in oils,” Wendy MacNaughton said, “and I am a perfectionist which meant I kept changing it and changing it until it was a muddy mess… That’s part of the reason why I use watercolors and only draw with pen. You can’t erase a pen, and you can’t redo a watercolor. You just keep going. And if you mess up a watercolor, you either have to change your tack and work with it or crumple it up and throw it away and start over.”
Except I don’t think of pens and watercolor— I think of words and actions.
And I don’t think of a canvas or paper— I think of lives.
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That year, after homeschooling for Kindergarten during the pandemic, I sent my twin boys to first grade in person in class together.
I imagined the perfect picture of life continuing as it always had, except with this added everyday activity. (You know, a minor change). The boys would continue to be best friends, forever playmates, but the fighting that ensued sent me scrambling to adjust the picture.
I could fix this, I thought. If I add a little downtime here and create a little play time there, the picture will be perfect again. Right? RIGHT??
But as I added parenting strategies, coping activities, and any advice I came across for after-school meltdowns and sibling relationships— the picture got a bit muddy.
“They may just fight now,” my sister told me, “we always did.”
But each squabble jostled my peace-loving heart, and in my attempt to micromanage each interaction to avoid an explosion, I was the one exploding.
As I listened to Wendy’s words, I thought about the drawing in ink alternative. The moments that wrap me with guilt from words I can’t take back. They’re permanently part of the picture. Not only the things I say in frustration but every situation they encounter in their lives.
Not just bullies and embarrassments, but watching a teacher experience the loss of her daughter through a school shooting or hearing about a classmate losing his mom to cancer.
All drawn in ink, all part of the picture. What can I make out of those moments?
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I listened to this episode in November 2022 and still think about it. Much more today because I started drawing in ink and using watercolor. I bought the boys this Adorable Art Class drawing book for Christmas this year as something we could do together. But sometimes, I need cute art for a kid's room I’m decorating for work.2 So, I get out my calligraphy drawing pen and ink bottle and start creating.
Since it also has some cute drawings of plants, I stockpile some without the adorable faces to use in other areas of a house.
Recently, I sat at the kitchen table with my completed aloe plant ready for watercolor when I saw it— the smudge on the bottom, an extra swipe of ink. Wendy’s words returned to me, “You either have to change your tack and work with it or crumple it up and throw it away and start over.”
So I added a crack around the smudge and spilled a little dirt pile. I drew faint lines of a crack up the pot— all part of the picture.
As a thank you for reading my words, I’m offering a free download of the Imperfect Aloe. If you’re not a subscriber yet, do it today, and you’ll receive a bonus download of my art to your inbox!
I recently started listening to Working it Out and listened to this episode yesterday. It was a really good one and I love your reflections on it!