My 37th Birthday Reflection

Today I turned 37, and leading up to this day, Vincent Van Gogh has been weighing heavily in my mind. Vincent Van Gogh painted for ten years of his life and during that time he produced “860 complete oil paintings… 1,240… watercolor paintings, sketches and prints… and he wrote more than 900 letters” (Ramsey 138). The year that Vincent turned 37, he was on track to complete around 200 works of art, but stopped at 108, because... he killed himself.

I often lament that I have not accomplished all the creative endeavors that live along with Vincent in my mind. I am still dreaming more than doing. I have too many words that will go unsaid and unwritten. Paintings that will go unpainted. Pictures that go unprinted. Questions that go unasked. Gardens that remain unplanted. Exotic places that remain unvisited. Dance choreography that will never see the light of day, and movement in my body that may never be expressed.

As I have started the process to write this birthday reflection, I have realized that the thoughts in my head are not translating to paper as I had hoped. I swear, for the thousands of ideas that go through my head on the regular, maybe one or two good ones make out into the real world in a manner that is coherent.

Sometimes I become paralyzed in the idea that I am not able to do all the things that I want to do. Sometimes all I want to do is sit on the floor of a hot shower for an hour and disassociate, however, I do have a family and other responsibilities to attend to. Recently I was reading a book in which one of the characters explained how when they were in a paralyzing moment, they just think of one thing they could do right then—even something as simple as taking a hot bath—and that’s what they did.

Far too often, for me, scrolling through social media seems to be the one thing I can do. Lately I find this to be the thing that is causing me anxiety and paralyzing me. Yet, I also find so many lovely things there, such as this poem by Tess Guinery, that fits in with what I am working up to in this post. She wrote:

To me,

art isn’t just something “we do”

but something “we live”

 

and with this

 

I believe creativity is not simply what “we do here”,

but it is how

“we be here”.

 

How might your perception of creativity transform

if you embraced it not as an act, but as a way of

being in the world?

 

This brings me back to Vincent, who once wrote that “There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.” How I show up in the world is my truest act of creativity. So, when I cannot paint, write, dance, play the piano, or climb mountains, or whatever it is I wish to do—or when I’m feeling stuck and helpless—I pray for someone on my mind, and I pray and ask God to reveal to me how I can show love to someone in that moment. In my stage of life right now my artistry often looks like doing the dishes, making breakfast, hugging a crying child, tying shoes, listening more than I talk, smiling at strangers, and continuing to do this even when it is not reciprocated.

If I’m being honest, I recognize that my artistry from this point of view is… lacking. My desire to be valued, adored and loved myself can cause me to become very selfish.

Vincent created many great works, but he faced many disappointments. He convinced himself he was unlovable, and in the end, his demons were victorious. I am certain, however, that if he could go back and do it again, he wouldn’t have killed himself. He loved people and had more love to give. He had more love to receive.

As I journey into my 37^th year on this planet, my hope is that no one on this earth would feel underrated or unlovable. I hope to express my creativity by making others feel seen, valued, and loved.

WORKS CITED

Ramsey, Russ. Rembrandt is in the Wind. Zondervan Reflective, 2022.