Courage Knocking

Pretty much everyone has at least one or two things (if not one or two dozen) that they don't do. "I'm not a runner." "Writing? I'm not good at that." "Oh, I don't mow the lawn, my husband does that." "Special music? Are you kidding? I can't carry a tune!"

I have a whole list of things I don't feel confident, or competent doing. I am one of those who doesn't mow the lawn, doesn't plant flowers, 'can't' run, doesn't feel comfortable with any recipe that uses words like 'saute', and the list goes on...

When we are young, before we've found our proverbial boxes, labeled them, and climbed inside, we dare to try new things. What we haven't yet attempted, we haven't failed. And then we grow up, finding things that come more naturally than others, or things we enjoy more or even excel at. So we tend to stick to those things.

Today I woke up tired, but strangely energetic. I itched to create art -- not just write or doodle or stamp, things I do regularly, but do something truly artistic. Paint. Pastels. Canvases. Hard, scary, messy things to which I normally say "Oh, I don't do that. I'm not an artist."

So after taking my Kindergartener to school, my almost-three-year-old and I went home to create Art.

I used oil pastels for the first time and shoved my inner critic and self-doubt aside to create something worthy of being called art. I had a blast and actually liked what I ended up with.

I also decided to tackle a new recipe for dinner. Pumpkin Lasagna. The pictures looked too good to be true, but the recipe wanted me to melt butter on the stovetop and brown minced garlic and.... I was already overwhelmed with the browning of garlic.

So I again pushed aside that little inner voice that said, "It's okay that you can't cook. You have other talents. You bake! You write! You're nearly ready for the Olympics in laundry." Step by step, I followed the recipe.

I melted butter. I browned garlic. I added incredients and stirred and layered and shredded and layered and spread and layered and topped the whole thing with sliced fresh mozzarella. It's out of the oven now, bubbling and hot and smelling of autumn comfort.

What 'can't' you do? Why not try?