The Joy in the Process

Life can race by too fast sometimes. There's always the rush to finish the next task, accomplish the next goal, or succeed in the next endeavor. I have found that my motivation can only carry me so far before it drops, and the next looming task turns into a predator to my anxiety-prone mind, instead of an exciting challenge to overcome.

But I have always been the kind of person who unwraps birthday gifts slowly and carefully, and enjoys the process of unwrapping (almost) as much as the present itself. Chocolate candy is no different for me, and from a pretty young age I came up with a huge collection of brightly colored foil wrappers to work with. I quickly started creating foil art to give as gifts to family and friends. I love taking something that would have just been thrown away, and turning it into something bright and beautiful to bring happiness both to me and to the person who receives my gift. But even more, I love the process of creating art. It gives me something to do that is not dependent on the outcome, something that I can take as long as I want and let it unfold with no looming deadline. The process of creation is like a vacation for my motivation, and helps me return to more pressing tasks with greater enthusiasm.

I started out by making simple bookmarks or handmade cards. Like unwrapping presents, I found I loved the joy of the process almost more than the finished product. There is something so satisfying about the feel of my scissors in my hand, the soft "snick" as I cut the foil to just the right size or shape. The oozy feeling of the glue as I set down the next piece always soothes me. With music playing in the background, I fall into a comfortable rhythm of cutting, placing, gluing, and then cutting again. The critical part of my mind might jump in now and then to warn me that something doesn't look quite right, that maybe its not going to be good enough. But I am learning how to quietly tell that part of my mind to go back to sleep and to take the vacation it so desperately needs, and to let me just enjoy the delightful mistakes of my process.

The process of deciding what to make for each friend is also a joy to me. I try to pay attention to the deeper things that come up in conversation and to get to know what matters to their heart in whatever season of life they find themselves in. It makes me slow down and really listen. Then maybe I will come up with a symbol or a pattern or a particular color that would be meaningful for them. It is different every time, unique to my friend and to my relationship with them. Once I have a general idea, then I try to just start, and cut out and glue the pieces one by one as they come. I used to create a detailed plan to follow first, but that turned it all into one more thing that I had to accomplish and I would feel frustrated if the finished product didn't match my expectation. Once I came back to just focusing on the process and not on the product I could enjoy it more and create even more meaningful gifts.

I need this in my life. I need scissors in my hand and a bright pile of squares of foil spread out in front of me on the table. And if I'm honest, sometimes I need the pick me up that a piece of chocolate gives me, even if I try to convince myself its really all about the particular shade of the color of the wrapper. It is through this slow, patient process of creation that my anxiety calms, that my creativity sparks, and that my motivation gets to deeply rest. When I come back to the real world and the day to day pressure of everything that needs to be accomplished, I can discover within myself a renewed sense of motivation to cross each one off my list.