Tuesday, I shared one small drawing of a kettle. Today, I’m sharing the rest of that page and the one beside it as a spread from my journal.
I drew my favorite pencil, some flowers, a teacup, and a leather satchel. I didn’t plan any of them. Just randomly drawn and was having fun with it. They appeared as I stayed present long enough to keep going. Drawing like this reminds me of a type of visual encyclopedia book I had as a kid. I could spend hours looking and reading. I decided to break down the anatomy of the flowers and add words and label everything.
I am enjoying this part of my self-care routine. I am letting one quiet doodle lead to another doodle or painting. While a warm cup of tea sitting next to me invites me to take a break, my left brain ponders the possibility of what to do next. My right brain then takes over, and I zone out in the process of creating. When I’m done, I usually have to wash my hands of the paint, graphite, and whatever I was playing with.
The pencil reminds me I’m allowed to start messy, erase, and start over. I can also use a pen and paint over it, creating layers, which is always fun. Sometimes I do this even when I love what I did. I have to remind myself that it’s ok to let things go. If it’s too precious, you can’t play with it. Some people have trouble with a sheet of fresh paper because they feel the need to be perfect. They can’t sing karaoke publicly because they may mess up. This limits you so much! Why care if you are perfect? It’s ok to sing, paint, or start a new hobby and not be perfect at it!
It’s too bad life doesn’t have a giant eraser we can pick up and start over, but you know what? We still can! You know how? You forgive yourself and others! You forgive yourself for the fact that you aren’t perfect and that nobody is perfect. Forgiveness is the giant eraser 
Pick yourself up and begin again.
Making a mess can be fun. After I make a mess creating art, it’s time to clean up. Sometimes I leave it out for easy access, and sometimes I put it away where it should go. If I sing a new song and my voice cracks or I can’t hit a note, I giggle. I’m not standing there mortified and going to go hide under a rock. Nope! I am singing for the joy of it and the release of stress that happens. My giggling after I mess up singing is kind of like an eraser.
This is how I want to move through this year: slowly, visually, with curiosity. Forgiving myself and others, giving out grace even to myself. Letting small rituals grow naturally and finding joy in them. Giggling! Letting creativity stretch across the page and letting self-care look messy and handmade. No rush or rules. Just showing up again and seeing what comes to me.