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“You’re not good enough.”

These words have echoed inside my heavy brain chamber most of my life. There are reasons, none of which include my parents or a sad upbringing, that’s for sure, but nonetheless I hear them.

Insecurity born from early childhood trauma gave way to self-destructive coping behaviors. They were like worms boring holes inside an apple. I was shiny on the outside, empty within, and I struggled to fill my hollows.

I still do.

I’ve grown more in these middle years than in any years prior, and I’ve given myself permission (and plenty of room) to change. My ways. My behaviors. My perceptions. I hear those demeaning words less often now, but they still find a way to whisper softly in my ear from time to time, despite conscious efforts to keep them out.

The human plight, no doubt.

I practice forgiveness, patience, and presence, especially with myself. I’d say the past 10 years have been about finding clarity, true purpose, and following my own voice. I continue to seek my own little piece of a happy heart and soul.

Recently, I started playing with a new hobby. Watercolor painting. I’ve always had an artistic side, and now I’m jumping into something new. Painting is quickly becoming an outlet and an obsession. I love it. It’s relaxing and fun. At best, it’s a reprieve from endless, mindless scrolling. It’s also a real break from my daily deep dive into the raging river of bad news (and misinformation).

For a few months now, I’ve been working on my techniques and pumping out some art pieces. Some great, some…not so much. I play my sweet tunes, my Norah Jones, my Mazzy Star, my Joni Mitchell, and I simply sit inside my serenity. I surrender. I focus on one thing instead of a million things. Learning something new is challenging, but it’s also peaceful if paced well and expectations are limited.

I’ve written a lot about my dad and his hobbies. He carved and painted duck decoys. He was an avid fisherman and masterful gardener. His tomato growing expertise developed only after many years learning and changing.

As I take steps to learn a new thing, I am reminded that in just about everything we are beginners first. My dad was a beginner. He grew up in the city. He taught himself and in the process he began to really understand a little more about life (and himself).

I get it, dad.

Failure, in many respects, brings with it that old feeling, “You’re not good enough.” It’s a pestering thought. I painted an old red barn the other day, and it was so embarrassingly bad I didn’t even let the paint dry before I ripped it to shreds and tossed it in the garbage. I laughed to myself about it though. Humility and humor are the most important parts of learning.

As we battle in politics and religion, as we continue to fight the good fight, to seek truth and equality, to remain strong, I need to remember, always, what makes me feel happiest.

I am happiest when I’m watching something grow.

Children. Flowers. Plants. Animals.

In this case, here and now, it’s myself I’m watching. And as I do, as I grow and change ever more through painting, I will put the process before the result. I will find joy in the journey before the goal. I’ll endure the trial before the triumph.

Maybe this is just another attempt to stay young at heart? Funky fresh, if you will? So be it. After all, we crust over and our creativity dries up if we don’t try something new once in a while.

When it comes to painting, I am not good. But, I’m truly good enough, right here, right now, exactly as I am.

And so are you.

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