Since the beginning of this pandemic, life has turned from being something we could plan for — trips, events, gatherings — to something completely unpredictable.
The only way to live (with any semblance of sanity) has been to take things one day at a time.
It's been exhausting. It's been uncertain. It's been tumultuous.
And.
As I embarked upon the annual January Strada Challenge, where artists around the world work on one painting for each day of January, I remembered that this way of living — one day at a time — can actually be a beautiful way to approach creativity and meaning in our lives.
On January 1, I set up my easel and did the first of my paintings. Then, each day throughout January, I arranged tiny vignettes made up of treasures from around my home — a Georgia O'Keefe hat I got from my son; snow shoes and a winter coat from my dad; my mom's strawberry shortcake recipe; dried flowers from my daughter's wedding — bathing them in light where I could find it, and painted.
One painting at a time. 31 paintings in 31 days.
Every day was a fresh start. A chance to continue the creative vibes I'd carried the day before or to let myself veer down a completely different path.
As I got started each day, it reminded me that taking things one day at a time can serve as more than a survival tactic for when things are in chaos.
Yes, in times of chaos, this approach helps us focus on the near future; what's within our control.
And...in times of both chaos and thriving, taking things one day at a time helps us wake each day with a renewed sense of meaning, opening ourselves up to greater creativity. Letting us feel into whatever that day brings — good or bad — and knowing that tomorrow is an opportunity to start anew.
The one day at time approach gives us the structure we need to enable flexibility; the constraint we need to breed creativity.
Had I set out to paint every day without the structure of the Strada Challenge surrounding me, I'm not sure I would've stuck with it.
But with one parameter: Create one plein air painting each day for the month of January, I could focus on what I'd create today, with freedom to roam within that.
That structure gave me a bit of predictability amongst a whole heck of a lot of unpredictability.
We lost all normal senses of structure in this pandemic. But when we approach things one day at a time, we can seek what's within our control and know that we have today. We have creativity and lightness and kindness today.
And when we wake tomorrow, we can renew that.
One day at a time.