Walking back to public transit after a trip to the grocery store, I noticed an inscription in a shop window : “Visual arts centre this way”. And my first thought was, “Oh, I should look if they have exhibitions!”
Which is totally in line with this year’s general objective to experience more. But I hadn’t quite realized what this was in answer to until now.
I reflected on how it was still new for me to have that kind of impulse, and then how, of course, it was difficult to be open and creative when you’re dealing with uncertainty, depression, fear, on a personal level. Which is something I’ve known for a good while, but hadn’t yet understood how it applied to me.
As far as the pandemic goes, I was of the very, very lucky ones. As far as I know, there was no loss of employment in the company I work for, and most of us were quickly moved to working from home in March 2020.
Being introverted, and having just then recently discovered how high sensitivity has shaped me, lockdown came almost as a relief. No transit, much fewer people when I went out.
Obviously, again, this was an incredibly privileged position, and I’m also very grateful that it happened to suit me.
But in 2019, there had been a few months of medical leave to sort myself out. And despite my luck work-wise, and how blissfully quiet the world was for my temperament, I wasn’t blind to the distress around me the next year, and in the world at large.
Two family members passed in 2020, though unrelated to the pandemic. 2021 is a blur. 2022 left deep wounds, and the following year was me trying to heal them and deal with the scars. 2024 was difficult is so many, many ways.
Even this year is off to a rocky start.
A couple of years ago, it became apparent that a bad case of perfectionism had robbed me of my passion for drawing. Why start at all if I’m never going to be satisfied with the result? All this time since, I’ve been gently blaming myself for letting it go that far. To be fair, that has been part of the problem.
But somehow I forgot to take into account how difficult the past 5 years have been for me mentally. Not that I dismissed it, nor would I have done so for anyone else in my position. I just… didn’t realize.
Tant qu’il y a de la vie, il y a de l’espoir.
As long as there’s life, there’s hope.
So tonight I will gently apologize to myself for the misplaced blame, and once again practice self-compassion.