Purpose

Not long ago I woke up one day and started to question my purpose. "What does all this mean?" "Why am I creating art while people are suffering pain, illness, hunger and children are being massacred in their classrooms?" "Is there anything of value that I am giving to the world?" Maybe it was my own experience of going through the fire after my husband's stroke 18 months ago that lent my outlook this sharp edge. While we are very blessed and lucky that he has overcome so much, he will always be impaired and life has changed dramatically.

When I sat down to my computer this morning I had no idea what to write...in fact I had no idea I was going to write. It has been after all and entire year since I blogged for my written words have dried up. All my energy has gone into keeping out house running, being present for my husband's needs, getting myself to the gym and painting. As for why I am writing this morning I blame the newspaper delivery guy. He broke my up routine. My morning ritual of eating breakfast my while reading the newspaper is my favorite time of the day. For years I have eaten the same food, cheerios with sliced bananas and frozen blueberries, and for a person who loves variety in life it is strange indeed! I love this time of day when the hours ahead are fresh with possibility. I also love the quiet solitude before the demands and responsibilities kick in and I am needed, so necessary to the function of our little world. So the newspaper was not on my porch this morning. Instead I sat down with my bowl of cheerios at the computer and here I am. I am breaking fast while breaking a longer fast of writing.

Art and aphasia...how do they connect? How do I say something on canvas that I am unable to express out loud?

When I was writing about my husband's stroke in the days and months immediately after I was defiant about his recovery. In my naivete I refused to believe that he would not recover 100%. I would still chose this attitude because it helped us get through those early difficult times. People would tell us that we need to adapt to a "New Normal" as if it were a frock one should slip over one's head. Recently a friend who is going through her own challenges with her husband used the term "New Reality". I like this better...for believe me, there is nothing normal about life when your husband cannot read books, has difficulty holding conversation and writing is out of the question. All this while being the EXACT same person he was prior to his stroke. Can you imagine? I can't!

So I am adopting the term "New Reality"and will forge ahead with promise mustered in my heart. Art can heal all in my world. And if my soul is calmed, in turn I can help heal my husband's world.