Kerfuffle seemed to be the word of the day.
When pressed, the word was hard to define, but each of us on the conference call knew the feeling. Things not going according to plan; a dust-up among family, friends or colleagues; a jumble of activity that did not lead to intended outcomes; and so on. The sense that there’s a way things ought to be, but aren’t. Kerfuffle.
We’d worked through lunch. It seemed the perfect time for a break.
Needing a fresh perspective more than a lunch break, I headed to my chicken coup turned workshop. (I miss my flock of birds and their peaceful clucking, but that’s fodder for another column.)
What awaited me in the workshop was a blank canvas. I’m not an artist and am barely a painter. Walls I can do, but even woodwork and trim can trip me up, so the canvas remained blank since I placed it there months ago.
It wasn’t always blank. In its former life, the canvas was an attractive, yet relatively common scene of white birch trees in winter. Pretty. Peaceful.
However, it was too similar to art pieces hanging in our offices. Work-home boundaries are already too blurred.
Weeks ago, I gave the canvas a few coats of white paint to cover the old image while waiting for inspiration – and maybe a bolt of talent – to strike. That’s as far as I’d gotten. I knew what I didn’t want. What I lacked was the inspiration and the confidence to create something new.
Inspiration didn’t strike, but kerfuffle did.
The word teased my brain. Is it purely negative? Is the state of things not being as we expected a completely bad thing, or is there opportunity to be had in the melee?
The old was gone. Lovely as the birch tree scene had been, it wasn’t coming back. Waiting for artistic talent to suddenly arrive was a losing game, and there’s no time for an art class in my schedule.
Kerfuffle seemed to be the word of the day.
When pressed, the word was hard to define, but each of us on the conference call knew the feeling. Things not going according to plan; a dust-up among family, friends or colleagues; a jumble of activity that did not lead to intended outcomes; and so on. The sense that there’s a way things ought to be, but aren’t. Kerfuffle.
We’d worked through lunch. It seemed the perfect time for a break.
Needing a fresh perspective more than a lunch break, I headed to my chicken coup turned workshop. (I miss my flock of birds and their peaceful clucking, but that’s fodder for another column.)
What awaited me in the workshop was a blank canvas. I’m not an artist and am barely a painter. Walls I can do, but even woodwork and trim can trip me up, so the canvas remained blank since I placed it there months ago.
It wasn’t always blank. In its former life, the canvas was an attractive, yet relatively common scene of white birch trees in winter. Pretty. Peaceful.
However, it was too similar to art pieces hanging in our offices. Work-home boundaries are already too blurred.
Weeks ago, I gave the canvas a few coats of white paint to cover the old image while waiting for inspiration – and maybe a bolt of talent – to strike. That’s as far as I’d gotten. I knew what I didn’t want. What I lacked was the inspiration and the confidence to create something new.
Inspiration didn’t strike, but kerfuffle did.
The word teased my brain. Is it purely negative? Is the state of things not being as we expected a completely bad thing, or is there opportunity to be had in the melee?
The old was gone. Lovely as the birch tree scene had been, it wasn’t coming back. Waiting for artistic talent to suddenly arrive was a losing game, and there’s no time for an art class in my schedule.
If I wanted something new, it was going to take using the equipment and skills I currently have and just start. Start something.
Two of my key attributes are visionary and planner. Those skills weren’t serving me well here. The blank canvas intimidated me. I could see no vision for what the paint could be when applied to the blank slate.
How could I craft a plan for how to get to the vision if I didn’t have a clear idea of what I wanted to create?
I could have simply bought a new piece of art, but that’s not my style. Once I decided I wanted to create something new, I was hard-pressed to give up that quest.
Tired of inaction, today I drizzled paint on the canvas, selected a brush and began moving paint around. Shapes emerged. With each color layered, depth took shape. Finer lines added context and softer hues added insight.
More importantly, mental clutter cleared. My breath came more evenly and was deeper. The colors on the canvas mimicked the soft rain and afternoon overcast sky. Circular brush strokes softened severe edges. A painting emerged. Something almost lovely.
Letting go of what was even in the absence of a vision of what could be; simply beginning and letting what “is” guide the process, was just what I needed today to gain some perspective.
While it won’t win any art competitions, the end result is more than a visual piece. It’s a reminder of the journey. Here’s what I learned.
I don’t always need to know the end to begin the journey. What was is gone. What will be can only arrive if I take the next step. I simply need to clear the clutter long enough to trust that the tools and talents I already have are what I need to take the next step. The end result might be unexpected, but can still be a thing of beauty.
While all that runs counter to my visionary and planner bent, it’s freeing knowledge that will help me see the beauty – and the opportunity – when the next kerfuffle comes along.