What Good Shall I do Today?

"It's so good to be here, It's so good to be here. It's so good to be here"

Thats what I heard myself repeating over and over again when I stepped into my studio and flipped on the lights early this morning. I haven't been for 11 days because of Holidays and trips. I was missing it.

I also heard myself saying "What good shall I do today?"

Which prompted me to immediately sit down and write a journal post.

What I do is simple. The mechanism of scooting paint around on a canvas with a brush can be pretty simple. However -the skills accumulated over many years of having a stubborn streak of not giving up, of pushing myself & being pushed by others wasn't simple. Showing up, flipping on the lights and donning my apron is simple. However, showing up and giving my best - however little it may be on a day to day basis, wasn't simple. Trusting it could be for the good of others wasn't always simple either.

Somehow, doing the simple things & the not so simple things grew into something I couldn't be more grateful for. Its this: The opportunity to do something good today. What I paint today may originate from a whim in my heart- something I consider simple. A simple involuntary desire.

Whose ever eye that painting catches, and whose ever home it lands in, is not simple. That a painting painted today in delight - can wind up in a stranger's home acting as a loving hug... a hug as if I was giving it with my own arms-- that is not simple. That is good. That is a good thing. That's the good I get to do today. 

I know this: Simple things are much. They produce so much happiness inside this heart of mine. I hope you realize the simple things in your life, the things you have a well worn path of showing up to do with love in your heart, how much they truly are.  I hope you realize how much they are without ever seeing the much with your own eyes. 

 There is a little poem by Mary Oliver I'm reminded of this morning.

How Everything Adores Being Alive 

What if you were a beetle,

and a soft wind

and a certain allowance of time

had summoned you out of your wrappings,

and there you were,

so many legs hardening,

maybe even more than one pair of eyes

and the whole world in front of you?

And what if you had wings

and flew

into the garden,

then fell into 

the up-tipped face

of a white flower,

and what if you had 

a sort of mouth,

a lip to place close 

to the skim of honey

that kept offering itself - 

what would you think then

of the world

as, night and day,

you were kept there -

oh happy prisoner-

sighing and humming,

roaming that deep cup?

-By Marty Oliver

From WHY I WAKE EARLY