Our youngest woke up around 3:30 a.m. last night. After comforting him and crawling back into bed, I couldn’t seem to fall back asleep. My mind was consumed by sadness over the plane crash in D.C., and I couldn’t calm my thoughts.
In moments like this, I turn to prayer. My sister once taught me a simple but powerful practice: opening my hands with palms facing upward as a symbol of letting go. That small act brought me a sense of peace last night.
Even so, the heavy, anxious feeling lingered today, so I made my way to my table. Painting has always been my way of stepping outside my own head, and that’s where I found myself again. It’s not always about creating a masterpiece—it’s about the process.
Today, I grabbed a large brush, a handful of colors, and started to paint. I think I’m calling this piece “The Art of Letting Go.”
Sending love and lifting up prayers for everyone affected by last night’s tragedy.
