On
New Year’s Eve, as we were ready to put our three-year-old twins to bed, I went
in search of Mackenzie. Out of all three of our daughters, she’s the one who
disappears the most. She’s quiet and does her own thing and often times simply vanishes.
This was one of those cases where I had no idea where she was.

            I
found her in the basement (the playroom as well call it) coloring away by
herself. I walked down the stairs, then stopped and reflected for a moment.

            The sight brought tears to my eyes. 

            I
was staring at myself. I wasn’t looking at our daughter but rather looking in a
mirror.

            2013
wasn’t a particularly good year in a lot of ways. And the holidays weren’t
particularly good to me for various reasons.

            But
this was a reminder to me of who I am and what I do.

            Staring
at this little girl coloring away and enjoying herself– it dawned on me–this is me. This is what I’ve always done. THIS IS WHAT I DO.

            Then I thought of something else.

            All
the worries and the questions and the troubles that hang on me like germs I can
never get rid of . . . they don’t matter. They’ll always be there. Things like bills and debt and emergencies.

            But
the child creating in quiet isolation–he’ll always be there, too.

            In
this moment, I suddenly felt grateful for being able to write. For being able
to be left alone to create on a daily basis.

            I
felt grateful for being me.

            I had planned to write some deep, dark, searing letter to 2013, but instead I simply
decided to end the year thinking of this snapshot of our toddler coloring by
herself. For herself. Coloring just because she has to. It’s in her genes. It’s who she is.  

            So it’s
a new year. A new opportunity for many more coloring sessions ahead. I’m very thankful.

            I’m also planning on a very colorful year.