You think you've had two years (this weekend) to go inside yourself and listen deeply to your wants and needs and to create a new personal mission statement for the way you want to live on this planet.
But you didn't.
How could any of us think like that while the world is on fire and there are so many loud voices coming at us from all sides? Did some listicle shame you and the way you coped? So many voices telling us to get clear on our goals, get fit, get organised, go deep, make your mark, leave what no longer serves, get angry, fight the power, and save the planet. All the while fighting for social and economic justice, raising a good family or loving the one you're with while staying informed on politics, world news, and what's trending. Clap for carers and front line workers, bargain shop, and mind how long you leave the lights on and did you mourn in an acceptable way across your socials, did you virtue signal or just support the right causes?
How the fuck are we supposed to do all of this while being beautiful, creative, talented, well-read, well-travelled, and well-loved. And of course, let's not forget the people who didn't skip a beat, you just got on with it, kept calm and carried on and "fuck it, this is my one life when it's time, it's time..."
The pandemic is not over, war rages in many places that we are not paying attention to today, and of course on our poor mother earth. Politicians are chipping away at our democracy while stealing from the poor and we know that straight white males are the only ones that had a fair shake anyway, so why the fuck are they so angry?
And yet, I need to paint a painting? I need to stay relevant, make a sale, go to an exhibition, say something beautiful, add a bit of joy to the world or express my rage in painterly form? Hmm. I am not so sure about that.
