Canvass

A smartphone ad tells us that “life begins like a blank canvass,”  and so we can go ahead and paint it with anything we want.
It’s just the same with what William Shakespeare wrote in his play that “All the world’s a stage.” We are all “merely players”, each having our “exits and entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts…”

As the artist or the actor, we are empowered to drive our lives; that we have the choice to either paint a masterpiece or make the best performance on stage. It’s really up to us to make our lives meaningful or not.

But life is not easy. People, events and even our own experience can influence us in our decisions and responses . . . in how we paint our canvas or act on stage.

Some would throw caution to the wind and splash any color on the canvas. They face life with courage and boldness. As long as they know what they want and this makes them happy, they will paint on the canvas with all the colors. It’s move ahead for them no matter what. To them, there are better things ahead than mull over the past.

But other people take longer time to study their decisions carefully. They are like actors who don’t stop at rehearsing their roles diligently. They are the perfectionist. “Ok na” or              “Bahala na” is not in their vocabulary. They want to ensure they  succeed in the end.

I  grew up being both kinds.

I was an impulsive young woman. I would say my piece no holds barred which slighted some people. I painted my life with my plans out of my free will.  I dreamed , I planned and did things that meant a lot to me.

Then I got married to a wonderful spouse who was my opposite. If I was the carefree artist, he was the cautious player whose slowness in decision-making would sometimes irk me. It was not a union that I’d expect, but what a wonderful change it was. I found myself tamed!

My late husband’s calm disposition was like water to a volatile fire in me. When before I would be stubborn to follow anything that I am opposed to, I was happy to follow my husband’s decisions.

Soon enough, I found myself painting more carefully the canvass of my life. I learned to weigh things in a smarter way and to listen to other people.

But he died. I was devastated. For some time my canvass became empty. I wiped out all the colors I’ve painted with my husband. I didn’t have the interest to fill out that canvass again. What for?

There was no one who’d appreciate it anymore.

And then one day I saw small smudges of paint on the canvass. I realized the drawings and paintings were crude, raw and childish. And I snapped out of my stillness.

I saw my three children drawing happily on the canvass. Nothing made sense but they were just using any color their hands can get hold of and smear them over the blank space. In the end, the whole thing was colorful again!

I chose to move forward and enjoy life again. Three young ones are the colors of my life. I lost my love but I have three who have a future to look forward to. And they’re starting to fill out their own blank spaces. And as a parent, I need to provide them support. I need to watch how they paint or perform in their own stage.

When we start to have kids, we start thinking more of their life than ours. We are not keen on our own canvass — it’s a complicated mixture of colors — but more on our children’s future.

Today I am happy to say their canvasses are bright with colors and defined lines and curves, some bold and some light. They may not all be perfect, they sometimes fall short of my expectations, but they are filling out a bright-looking canvass.

They’re all grown-up now. I don’t hold their hands like before to show them how to put in colors or define the lines in their drawings. But I continue to watch, even from afar, ready to pick them up if they fall and just be there when they may run back to me again.

More especially, I pray to an amazing God to be with them always where I am not. I am praying more for them than for me. I know that even if I am the artist with a canvass to work on or an actor with a stage to perform in, nothing compares to the love and grace of God who makes all things possible.

Our God may not have a canvass to fill, but He is the master architect who holds the original blueprint of our lives where He draws all that happens, good or bad.

And the great thing is that all lines and colors on that blueprint all lead back to Him.

Nothing that we do is lost in His sight. And no matter what we have done, we all are called back to Him.

Let’s draw on our canvass and perform our lives in a way that we come near to Him. That’s the ultimate purpose of why we live.