As I sit here to write, as always, I start by looking at a blank canvas. And then I realize, wow, the blank canvas can be intimidating. It can be scary. It can make you want to put the canvas back in the drawer and save it for another time and just deal with it later.
Life presents us with blank canvases all day long.
In fact, every single moment is a blank canvas, a chance to start anew, to look at what's in front of us with fresh eyes. The thing that just happened - that's now in the past. It's been written on another canvas, locked away, soon to be in the annals of time.
But this right here - this eternal, ever changing moment of presence - this is blank.
And guess what. You're the artist. You get to decide what words you write, what picture you paint, what song you sing. You get to be creative and interact with the canvas of life, the very flavor of creation that the universe has put in front of you right now.
The canvas is always blank. The only time it's not is when you make it cloudy. But that's you being cloudy. That's you muddying the waters. The canvas is always, always blank.
Just like the sun is always shining out there, even when it's cloudy, even when there's a torrential storm. That canvas, that present moment of here and now, that's always blank. And it's always putting its hand out for you, inviting you in to dance.
It's your choice. Paint that canvas? Or defer your craft for another, perhaps more convenient time. I just painted mine here. Will you do the same?
Live with substance!
Gabe Orlowitz
