A Pandemic Kick in the Pants

This is me and my then 3-year old, in our unknowing, adorable, naive "Day 15 of self-quarantine" Facebook post in March, 2020. Buzz words like "social distancing" were just beginning to circulate.

What now?

I was home, for who knows how long. As an optometrist with some health issues, I felt unable to work in my close-proximity field. I was trying to make the best of it, and searching for activities. At first, I busied myself with DIY home renovations and taking care of my toddler. Three months into isolation however, with no clear end in sight, I knew I could do something more with my time.

An obvious need

I began to write this book the same month George Floyd was killed. There was so much division, polarization, anger and restlessness. Our world wanted better. Social media was a deluge of heartfelt sharing, alternating with clashing language on various topics. Then there were memes with vague platitudes for peace and understanding. But even those who wanted more connection seemed to have few tools to begin to address real divides.

Digging Deep

What did I have to offer a fractured world? Actually a lot. I grew up as part of an idealistic global community where proactive love of neighbor was the top priority. I was exposed to dozens of different accents and cultures, when the community came together throughout the year to support each others efforts in kindness. I had a religiously diverse set of high school friends who did then and continue to challenge one another and enjoy life's journey together. Like all families, as my siblings and I grew up, we experienced divisions and yet chose to accept our differences and stay close-knit.

Say what you know

So was it actually okay for me to just share the seemingly simple things I live by? Maybe it was. I'm a 90's kid, and have a huge soft spot for the 1997 film of Little Women with Winona Ryder. One of the big lessons from that story is how Jo March learns (through trial and error) that her most powerful contribution as an author would be to speak from her own experience. She sets aside her thrilling adventure novels and instead writes about her family and community, how they lived and live. And it's one of the most relatable and inspiring narratives.

Interfacing interfaith

Okay fine, so I know how to love. There's plenty of times I miss the mark, but I come back to it quickly and often. I believe love is the best way to solve problems, to connect with others, and to have fun and happy life. I believe in love even though I'm no stranger to conflict. But how do you talk about love with well, everybody? What inspires me is not the same as what inspires you. The metaphors that motivate and anchor me are not the same as what pivots you. The language we all use is full of trigger words that incite those who come from other perspectives.

Loving without words

So as I wondered how to speak or write about love in our relationships at work, at home, and with our best selves, my husband asked a funny question: "Do you need to use words at all? I mean, you're an artist. Can you just draw it?" Well, hmm. That's interesting. I suppose I could try. So that's how it started. I just drew pictures. Drew and redrew and then got it, something that looked real and true and honest, a sequence that described in pictures what my interactions look like when I live them well. And after the drawings were done, then I captioned them. And that's how Living the Art of Loving: a picture book, came to be.