When we become adults

We stop doing some wonderful things like play, imagine, dream, sing, dance, and doodle. It seems only writers have permission to dream and imagine, only recording artists can sing, only pop stars can dance, and only fine artists are allowed to paint. When we were three-years-old, we did all those things. And no matter the outcome of our creations, at three, we were praised and encouraged.

Let’s not judge.

Sing well or sing off-key. Dance on beat or dance with two left feet. Create a masterpiece or doodle and scribble and paint. Color outside the lines and use purple with orange, green with red. Draw lines that go nowhere and swirls that bump into each other. I guess I’m talking about more than just doodling. I’m talking about life.

I try to do a doodle every day. Even when I’m not feeling it, I try. On the days when I just can’t seem to figure out what to draw, I produce some of the best doodles. “Best” meaning what? “Best” for me. Go out and buy a note book, a sketch pad, a sketch book, and put that smartphone, that PDA, that “i” whatever down and do a scribble, write some thoughts, a doodle per day.

I promise

When you look back through the pages a few months from now, you’ll see a story—a precious story of you.