Taking what was run down, grey and worn, and making something new. The theme of transformation has been running around my head this week. It’s what makes stories worth reading, movies worth watching, paintings worth stopping to take a second look – there’s always an element of transformation. In the end you see something new, but that newness only exists because of what lies beneath, what came before.
The mural had to be on that building (I’m told it’s somewhere near 4th and Galapagos) and live the history and drama of that neighborhood. I’m sure it would be beautiful in a museum too, but it wouldn’t tell the same story.
It’s the same with our relationships, our parenting, our teaching. It’s not always pretty, but the real story is built by allowing ourselves to transform, through the relationships. There may be false starts, unwanted graffiti on the building walls, painted over with grey a hundred times. And although a beautiful mural might finally emerge, it won’t stay the same either. I’m trying to remember to pause, take a second look, breathe in the color, the emotion, the energy. To fully appreciate the transformation, and then let it go, of course.