I just finished about 300 hours of work on a labor of love; a picture book starring my three grand daughters as the princesses of Tiny Landistan.
“It’s not good enough,” I kept rebuking myself and starting over on the art. Yet I am not a usually a perfectionist-perfection takes too long. Why was I having so much trouble?
I finally realized it was a labor of love and I could never really express how much I love them with pigments. Yet I wanted to try. I thought of my own Grandma, who made us kids double wedding ring quilts, sewing tiny scraps of cloth together by hand; hour after hour.
Why? Because as terrible as we were (and we were pretty terrible kids) she loved us. Although she threatened to “take us across her checkered apron” on numerous occasions, deep down she wanted to cover us up with her labor of love.
It’s pretty great when someone loves you even though you are terrible. We all need someone who loves us like that., because we are all terrible at times.
Since we are all terrible at times, let’s love others who are also terrible at times. Love is the most powerful force in the universe. And it is a verb.