Colouring inside the wines

My eldest son Kav and I were colouring together. He was about 4 at the time. We were sitting side-by-side and I was happily staying on my own page, meticulously colouring inside the lines while he messily and boldly scrawled colour across his page. 

Suddenly, he sighed, slumped and put down his crayon. He sat back with his arms folded across his little chest. I looked over at him, the suddenness of his halt and the resolve of his defeat really got my attention.

I stopped colouring - Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?

Mommy, I can’t stay inside the wines. I can’t make it bootiful. How do you stay inside the wines?

I looked at my beautiful boy and I looked looked down at his page. His colouring was loose and bold, joyful and untethered. The various crayon marks meandered over lines and crossed the boundaries of the image. Then I looked at my page. I was indeed meticulously staying inside the lines.  

What was I teaching my son? What was the message I was giving about taking chances,  creativity, expression and experiment. Was I daring to be bold and adventurous? Not much. Perhaps I was teaching my 4 year-old was that it was more important to stay inside the lines than to find joy in the freedom of creation. Maybe I was telling him to try to be like everyone else, to fit in. And, I was, if I am honest, always striving for perfection rather than simply being the best version of myself.  

And what did his powerfully direct question offer me? What was the real request, the innocent invitation? With the simple wisdom of the sage he presented me with yet another challenge to wake up and see how striving after the illusion of perfection kept me busy and actually had an affect on those around me. This unattainable goal actually acted as a barrier to the creative flowing, uniquely individual way available to me and everyone around me to paint the canvas of our life. 

I looked at this beautiful boy, this tiny teacher, this expression of unconditional love - and in that moment I knew I had a choice to make that could impact both of us. I could attempt to teach him how to stay inside the lines, encourage him to keep striving for an elusive perfection. To measuring his ability and worth by comparing his output to others…or what? The crayon was in my court. 

So I chose a purple crayon and I coloured over the entire image on my page - and then red and then blue and I let go and let flow.  

Kav, look this is another kind of beautiful. There are all kinds of beautiful and how wonderful is that? 

He looked at me for a split second, lesson given and received by both sides and picked up his crayon losing himself once again in his own perfect act of creation. 

So darling, let me ask you - when was the last time you joyfully lost yourself in colouring outside the lines?