Taking last week off was exactly what my heart and body needed. I went to bed early, slept until I woke up naturally, lingered in bed, watched TV in the middle of the day, played with watercolors, wrote in my journal, read, painted, and made myself a big diner-style breakfast one day with home-fried potatoes, a cheese omelet, and sourdough toast. My mom and I visited the local art museum, had a lovely lunch, and shopped at a few antique stores. I let my body recover from a summer cold, crying, lack of sleep, and an allergic reaction. I gave my arms a break from working outside in the heat so they could heal, and while they still look ugly, they feel so much better. (I had some crazy allergic reaction to either insect bites or plants that resulted in blisters, reddness, swelling, itchiness, and an infection. I’ve never had anything like it, and it was awful.)
The most important thing is that I gave myself time and grace. I could be unproductive if that’s what I needed, or I could work if that’s what I needed. I could stay home or go out. I cried while folding laundry and laughed to the point of tears when our family tested an AI music app to write a song about the time Sebastian ate Jeff’s footlong sub. I could ride the rollercoaster and not feel like I needed to press on and hold it together. Some work had to continue, but I made plenty of space around that work to rest, heal, and grieve. (If you missed my post about Sebastian, you can read it HERE.) I feel so much better in every way, so it was the right thing to do.
Taking this time to rest has reminded me that creativity, especially when it’s asked to produce work for a living, is a dynamic thing that needs to be nurtured and cultivated. It’s unfair to ourselves as artists as well as our clients and/or audience to show up drained. Sometimes we have to because the show must go on. There isn’t always the luxury of taking “zero days,” much less taking several unplanned days off from work. But, when that is an option, when it is possible, taking time to nurture our creative soul might be the most productive thing we can do. In the book Essentialism, Greg McKeown writes, “The best asset we have for making a contribution to the world is ourselves.” He then encourages the reader to protect the asset.
When I take time to go on a creative retreat, to play with tools and materials, and focus on refilling my creative well, I remind the hyperproductive side of my personality, which loves a tangible finished project, that I am doing important work. I am doing foundational work. I am protecting the asset.
Even in my rest, I still did work for clients, work that I knew would be therapeutic. I finished a commissioned pet portrait project, my largest to date, for a client. It was work mingled with healing. Painting a beloved pet for someone else when I had just lost my own. Both giving and receiving.
Of course, art can be made in difficult seasons. Some of the most moving art has been made in times of great personal loss, during war, when the heart is broken, and at the most raw moments. There are times when our circumstances compel us to create. There is no other choice but to put voice and form to what we are feeling or witnessing. But that is nurturing as well, just nurturing of a different kind.
I’ll share all about the art museum my mom and I visited, along with our little antiquing jaunt, but I wanted to start the week off with some encouragement. I hope you view your creativity and whatever art you make with it as something precious and worth nurturing. And I hope this post is a reminder that sometimes the most productive thing you can do is take time to take care of your greatest asset – you.
12 Responses
Beautifully thought through and written. Thank you for writing about the pain, as well as the positive and productive parts of life.
I’m so grateful I found your blog many years ago (PA days) and that you continue to communicate with it.
I only just caught up to this by reading today’s post. It was then that I realized that you had lost Sebastian, and I immediately burst into tears. I remember clearly the day you got him and brought him home. And when you brought Esme and Violet home, I remember initially being concerned. Until I stopped and remembered he had been a dog…on a cat farm! I always loved seeing him in your photos, and loved hearing you talk about him, even if it was just to mention taking him on his walks. What a huge hole in your family, one that I can’t imagine will heal soon. I love how you and your mom held him, talked to him, sang to him, and loaded him up with the gifts that will sustain him in his new life in God’s hands.
I have suffered all of last week from a tick bite and a bug bite, so I feel for you. I am a person who can get hives and rashes easily, especially in the summer. My immune system was unusually low because I had been carrying for my husband for six weeks, who is recovering from a serious surgery. He is doing better but my sleep had been difficult during this care time. Plus, between heat and rain, life has been nasty this summer. I have had lyme disease before so I started the doxycycline, which is hard on your stomach. Some days since this tick bite, I have cooked meals but nothing else. So, you were wise to take some time off and enjoy life. There are nasty bugs in our world which never around years ago and the rain has multiplied them.
I hope you continue to listen to your body when it tells you to slow down. ..
Marian,
I appreciate your sharing this (loss of a pet). Some of us tend to think we need to be strong for others and thereby ignore our own feelings and sadness. I loved Sebastian. During one week of your posts, I didn’t see Sebastian in any of the photos, I was worried he had gotten ill. I was so relieved when I asked, and you promptly replied he was still with you. I like to believe wonderful pets that pass go to pet heaven. 🐕💙
Karen B.
God Bless you and your family. Our pets are family. The loss is real. Allowing time for healing is easy to avoid. Teaching us all how to be real at a time that feels unreal.
P.S. so sorry to hear about the loss of you precious dog, Sebastian.
I did not know this when i sent my comment earlier.
God bless you. You need down time to heal the loss.
Sounds as if you might have got into what we called poison oak in northwest Missouri. I think it was probably poison ivy. That can be truly terrible for people who are highly sensitive to it.
So sorry to hear of the loss of your beloved Sebastian.. Just the other day I saw a picture of him in one of your posts and wondered how old he was now with his distinguished graying whiskers. I, too, remember when you first brought him into your home and family, boy time does fly… I know he is at peace. He gave and received a whole lot of love in his furbaby life and forever imprinted his paw on your hearts. Big hugs for you and your family during this very difficult time.
Reading your post about Sebastian last week made me cry. I remember the day you got him. I remember being pet owners was a new thing for your family, and you considered it with maturity.
I’m so sorry for your loss. He was ever present, your shadow. Your readers miss him too, albeit with less intensity, I’m sure.
I’m glad you took time. I’m sorry it was punctuated with pain and mysterious reactions. That’s awful. Missed you. Glad you were gone and glad you are back.
This is so beautiful Marian. So glad you did take that time for your own healing. The portrait of your client’s dog almost looks like he was looking into your soul and understanding how you were feeling! I’m sure that’s no accident ❤️. Glad you got some unhurried time to rest, and enjoy priceless moments with your family too.
Where is your dog charm from?
I bought it from Etsy about nine years ago.