A few weeks ago my little family and I took a trip to a neighboring city about an hour away. We had lunch, got some fabulous family pictures taken by the lovely and talented Alisha Stamper and then headed to the Springville Museum of Art.
Springville, Utah! Also known as Art City, piqued my interest as we drove up her streets. I could see myself living in a quaint town like Springville. Especially a town with an incredible art museum!
Lately I have been craving art. Can one crave art? I think so. For Christmas I took some liberties with the pocketbook and purchased myself a few Caitlyn Connolly giclee prints. She is…well, amazing.
There are a few Connolly paintings in the museum and their larger than life size could put anyone in a thoughtful mood. Art does that. In browsing the art galleries, it felt to me like all of the artists were able to portray so much in their work. It was almost as if they climbed into my heart and created their pieces with me, a disgruntled commoner, in mind. There were two pieces that touched me very deeply. I didn’t expect to be moved like I was. The first piece was a marble sculpture of a nude mother nursing her newborn. A perfect depiction of a very special brand of beautiful.
Wow. I am a mother. I have a new baby. I breastfeed. I am beautiful. This process is beautiful. How grateful I am.
Unfortunately, with my little family in tow, it was difficult to fully acknowledge the upwelling I felt. We hurried on from one gallery wall to the next, all while monitoring little wandering hands.
Henry! Don’t touch the art! Keep your hands in your pockets.”
Yet, I was thinking:
I know, I want to reach out too, and say thank you with my gentle touch. Are you real? Did you just speak to me? How did you know just what to say?
I learned a new word: Equanimity. It means being able to keep a balanced, mental calmness, particularly during difficult situations.
I realized that I have been getting the word “apathy” confused with this new found word, “equanimity”. I read this paper which explains the difference beautifully. Maybe you’ll take a gander?
I won’t take the time to go into detail about why the girl in this painting by Justin Kunz reached out and held my heart and my tears for a fleeting moment that day. But she did and I am so grateful.
Learning the practice of equanimity is something that is becoming very important to me. This seems to be what is allowing me to survive and I’d dare say, thrive, right now.