Which Hat Am I Wearing Today
As someone who can check the 65+ box on any form, there are really only two things I know for sure. The first is that an art and/or writing practice can not only save your sanity, it can also open doors to opportunities you never expected.
2007 was the year I became a Boomer member of a very large club – that of Family Caregivers. Despite my reputation as a pragmatist and planner, almost overnight I was making decisions about my parents’ health and wellbeing and dealing with issues I knew little about. Despite showing signs of dementia, my brilliant father was still reading voraciously and my mother, a gifted artist newly diagnosed with breast cancer, was still painting, but the constant difficulties were making me wonder if I would survive the experience. Of course, the idea of self-care wasn’t even on my radar, and my identity became firmly wrapped up in being a caregiver.
Jotting down all I was learning became a daily routine that included getting doctors to actually answer my questions or what to look for when choosing a transitional rehab or nursing facility. It was a way of exerting some control over imperfect institutions and situations where no easy answer existed, and I wrote on anything in my path including napkins, index cards, even sticky notes that ended up on my rear end as I walked through the local grocery store.
The rest, as they say, is history and six years later when I closed the door to my mother’s home for the last time, her well-worn paintbrushes in a favorite coffee mug, brightly smudged tubes of paint, and my dad’s old engineering textbooks and vintage family photos came with me. After a few months, gathering my notes and working through the grief, I wrote some more and eventually published a humorous and bittersweet advice book called The Dutiful Daughter’s Guide to Caregiving. I was 62 years old. A website and blog followed, along with doing talks, workshops and starting a writer’s group created specifically for family caregivers that remains active to this day. Life changing? Absolutely, and soul work for sure.
By 2017, though, I began to yearn for something more joy-filled, and just like the Zen saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher arrives,” I found my way to a glorious online floral painting and mixed media class. Flowers were one of my mother’s favorite subjects, and so, suspending my inner critic, I picked up her brushes, and simply allowed myself to see what developed. Bits and pieces of my dad’s dusty old books and letters also found their way into my work, and with each piece it was clear every creative act we engage in holds seeds of joy, and the power to help us heal. I’ve been hooked ever since, and last year I took the leap and launched this art/writing website.
It feels like a sanctuary. With every workshop I take, and there are so many out there to choose from, I learn a different technique to incorporate into my pieces. The response has been so gratifying, and I love the idea that my paintings find their forever homes all around the country. In addition to offering my collages, paintings, and stitching, my blog, Late Bloomer is where I post stories from my low-budget journey of self-discovery; personal musings); spot-on quotes and poems; and share links to other sites that speak to the kind of person I strive to be - creative, kind, funny, and supportive of others.
Now, I can imagine some of you saying, “That’s all well and good, but I don’t have an artistic bone in my body” or “I can’t take time for myself when there’s so much work to be done.” From experience, I know that when you’re securely tethered to being a caregiver, it’s hard to keep the parts of yourself alive that have nothing to do with this role. Or perhaps you’ve dealt with other types of emotional and/or physical challenges in your life. Either way, setting aside just thirty minutes, a few days a week for something like writing, painting, scrapbooking, sewing, or photography can reduce your stress, lower your blood pressure, and generally make you feel happier. It can even help answer that “Who am I now?” question, along with being a healing and cathartic way to process what you’ve been through.
That brings me to the second and final thing I know for sure. Being open to new ideas and practices can both inspire and sustain us, and at this stage of our lives we can grow, we can bloom, and we can flourish.
