Mustaches in the Sky

“Trust the process” they say… HA! Okay, but what if you have no idea what in the heck you’re doing! When you’ve never “been there” or “done that”… and every step forward has not even the hint of looking like where you are trying to get to... Let me tell you a story…

When I was in my mid-20’s I decided to take an oil painting class. I’m not someone who considered themselves artistic; creative, yes... but, artistic?... no. My drawing abilities were limited to the realm of sticks. Stick figures, stick flowers, stick trees, and a sun depicted as a circle with stick-straight lines of varied lengths surrounding it. So, when I decided to step into an art class my expectations were low.

I was instructed to bring 2-3 examples of something I wanted to paint. After reviewing them with the art instructor, I decided to go with a picture I found online of a beautiful garden scene with a white picket gate. It was beautiful, and the instructor said that although it was ambitious she was confident it was still doable for a beginner.

Class was 2 hours, once a week, and after my first lesson… this is what I ended up with.

As I got up, brushes in hand to wait my turn to clean them in the sink, I turned back and looked at my canvas. I stood there staring at what I had spent the last two hours working on and thought, “I have no idea what in the heck I'm doing! This is gonna be interesting”. By no means was I discouraged at this point. It was only one day; surely next week will provide more shape to everything. 

I showed up the next week, asking questions, engaged in the process, and truly doing my best to use the techniques I was shown. My instructor saw me cleaning up my station at the end of class, once again waiting for an opportunity at the sink, and came over to see my progress. Her face went into a half-grimace as she saw my painting and stifled a laugh before commenting, “I kinda wish you had more time to work on this before you leave. You have mustaches in the sky!”

My heart sank… she was right! (I know you see it too) My attempted tree branches looked like furry Tom-Selleck sky caterpillars! I think even my instructor began to doubt if I'd be able to pull this off at this point. As you can see… It was not going well. 

But, I wasn’t giving up. I truly loved the environment we painted in; a garage-turned-studio with skylights and huge windows along the back wall that all filled the room with natural light. The class was made up of mostly older women who painted together not because they required instruction, but because they enjoyed painting together. It fed my soul. 

I walked into the studio the next week, canvas in hand, holding it with the painting side towards me, away from the view of others and slowly set up my station to begin again. This day wasn’t the first time I had moments where I would just sit there staring at the canvas, because my mind had no concept of where or how to use the tools in front of me to create what I wanted. I honestly couldn’t even picture in my mind how to accomplish it, let alone how to get my hand to make it appear on canvas.

When I showed up the next week, I had no idea that this was the painting I'd be bringing home. It was actually looking like something I didn’t want to hide in the back of a closet!

Feeling good about my progress and increasing skill, I sat down the next week ready to take on my next instruction. I can only imagine the expression that overtook my face when my instructor told me to prepare a white palette to begin painting over the garden. Excuse me?! OVER?... as in like… cover it up?! Sigh…

Again, the nerves, fear, discouragement and doubt set into my body. How much trust was I going to put into this instructor? How long had she been teaching anyway… And being honest with myself, even if she was a great instructor, could I be the kind of student to do anything better than I’d already done? I doubted it.

I left class that day with mixed feelings; proud of the decent structure I’d painted, but disappointed that some of my favorite parts of the painting were now covered up under a layer of white paint.

That’s how the process of change and growth goes most of the time. We are doing something we’ve never done before, and that brings up a slew of emotions including self-doubt and fear. These principles are not unique to me or to this single experience. I recognized this process again and again as I pursued other goals of personal growth. But, here is what I've come to learn… they were right. Trust the process. My tools were good and expectations reasonable; coupled with an instructor to help me, I set myself up for success.

No matter how appealing it was to me to stop after week 3, I have never regretted the flowers and foliage that were covered up by moving forward. If I had accepted at week 3 that this was the best it would ever be… I never would have experienced the life-lessons that would continue to serve me over a decade later. And I wouldn’t have the painting I now get to enjoy every day.

If you ever feel like giving up, or that this is the best it will ever be… keep going. It’s worth it, I promise. The change, the image, the people, the path, the relief… whatever your canvas is lacking… it WILL come. Discouragement fades, doubts are diminished and mustaches in the sky can turn into something beautiful!

Live life well, my friend.

-Coach Rebecca

Final painting after 8 weeks of classes. (One of the best parts was signing my name in the corner.)