Art did not enter my life until my late thirties. Prior to that, I believed artistic ability was doled out to my mother and sisters only. Paintings, flower arranging, ceramic pottery, and creating garden design. They did them all beautifully. Then I went to Planet Bead, a little storefront in downtown Milwaukee. I discovered beads and I fell in love. Glass, wood, porcelain, natural stone, and pearls cast a spell on me and helped to uncover a part of myself that had laid slumbering for many years. And in the decades that have passed since, I expanded the creative process to include acrylic and water color painting, multimedia art, paper crafts, and garden design, And as my creativity flourished, the process of art taught me an invaluable lesson.

You will rarely, if ever, like a completed art piece. I have a painting I recently completed that hangs on the wall across from my therapy chair. Every session I do with my clients, I see that painting out of the corner of my eye. A colorful field of flowers that I enjoy. But the bottom left hand corner of the painting has grasses that have too many dark blades. I tried to paint in some lighter shades to compensate. Sadly, my efforts have been unsuccessful in endearing me to the painting. This is true in life as well.

You will rarely, if ever, like every aspect of your life. There will always be something in your life that you would like to change. It could be something small like losing a few pounds or something monumental like deciding to change your career after being in it for decades. Either way, you get to make choices. Do I invest in changing that part of my life I do not like? Many of us try and sometimes we are successful. But sometimes, like my over darkened blades of grass, our efforts to change something are met with disappointment.

So what do we do with that? For me, I get to choose to either keep attempting the process of change or I lean into acceptance. I have decided to lean into acceptance with my painting. But I have a confession to make. I decided that last week too and just an hour ago I was trying to lighten the blades of grass in the bottom left hand corner. It shows me that acceptance is a process and I am likely in move in and out of acceptance with everything I face. Paintings, cancer, relationships, and trying to lose a few pounds.

But let’s not ignore the beautiful posies I painted above the somewhat unattractive grasses. Those flowers make me smile. In multiple hues of pink, yellow, orange, and blue, they bring a cheerfulness to my therapy space. And the same is true for life. I may not like every aspect of my life, but I must keep my eye on those pieces that are good. I must actively engage in gratitude for the many ways in which my life is meaningful and inspired and fun. And that gratitude extends to the fact that after four cancer diagnosis, I still am alive and well enough to paint a picture of flowers.

Change, acceptance, gratitude. I do none of it perfectly. But my art reminds me to stay in the process of attempting change, embracing acceptance, and actively seeking gratitude. For these three processes fuel my life. And my creativity.