Many years ago when I thought I knew everything, I told a therapist it was too late to grieve things from my childhood. The whole notion seemed silly to me. Well.  Now I see that there is no past. No future. Just this eternal now. My backpack gets heavy, and it’s not too late to grieve. I can still sit with it and then let it walk on its own now. Those old traumas are not my enemies. They’re just parts of me. They don’t go away. Maybe my understanding of them changes.

A shadow falls and then the light comes back. 

I think trauma is disappointment.  I thought I wanted this or that, or to go here or there. They were never meant to be. I know this because they didn’t happen. 

If there was a past, I can see how it results from this now. I just have to remember to present my response in the form of a question. 

Lately I’ve been doing large acrylic paintings on canvas. I wanted one for over my bed. I didn’t know this would become my next big thing for a while. With these abstracts, I really try to clear my mind of expectation for the finished piece, and just do that act of painting. I try to clear my head of thinking.

Many years ago, my brother saw some abstract paintings by a friend of mine and said “Oh those are of nothing.” I was a little put out by the remark, but now I see he was absolutely right. These are of no thing. They are exactly what they are.

See what is there.