I have a new perspective this morning. I’m sitting on my new green couch in my sunroom looking out at my vegetable garden. I find myself pondering vegetables and fruit. Normally, I look out at my lamppost, pondering light and dark.

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I wish changing perspective was as easy as changing a room when it comes to deep-rooted beliefs and assumptions.

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In 2017 I started taking a monthly artclass with my mom. I often said that class was, and is, the best therapy I have ever had. I’ve been in and out of counseling over the years, and yet, there is something about sitting down and creating art, arranging a collage, the strokes of a paintbrush. It frees something.

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COVID makes everything just a little harder. Real time alone comes very few and far between. I used to write and be alone during the school year more days than not. Now there are little boys scattered around my house 24/7. I try to write and create and work while they circle.

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It’s exhausting.

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I crave huge chunks of time alone to create.

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I wonder if there will be space for the characters to come back. If there is quiet enough to hear them speak again. I wonder what new perspective I need to continue the work.

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I can’t seem to wake up early enough or stay up late enough to chase down that quiet.

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It won’t last forever. This isn’t the rest of our lives. We are resilient. New perspectives are on the horizon. I can give myself permission to chill out.

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Right?