Stickers & Rainy Days

This morning I woke up from a dream with a word on the tip of my tongue.

Stickers.

I didn't remember the dream in its entirety, but I remembered the overall theme.

You see, I love stickerbombing and collaging. I'm quite good at it actually. I've taught the kids I nanny how to stickerbomb their 3D objects, sold custom-wrapped wooden letters, and even stickerbombed the entire plastic liner in the interior of a friend’s car.

But as much as I love stickers, and making art with them, it wasn't until I was almost 30 that I was able to truly embrace my passion and joy around them.

Growing up, I was taught to wait & hold onto the valuable things in my life, regardless of how that value was assessed.

Sometimes something was considered valuable because of its price or sentimental significance. Like the pearl necklace my grandmother gave me as a teenager.

Sometimes the value came from how or when an item should be used — like the bottle of black cherry wine I brought my parents after my first wine tasting at a local vineyard.

And then there were the rainy day items. You know the sort. The crayons & coloring books that were stored in their pristine state, away from the chaotic fingers of children.

The 1,000 piece 3-D Hogwarts castle puzzle replica that there was no room to build on an “ordinary” day.

The Hess trucks & Barbies that never came out of the boxes because they would be worth “something” one day.

There were a lot of examples of this in my house, objects that were assigned significance and value, if only we were to wait until the right time to enjoy them.

Stickers were my rainy day object. Oh how I longed to use them! To show off the colors, my uniqueness and personality, and let’s not forget — the glitter.

And I did use some. But only the ones I could bear to part with. My favorites were always stored away. Saved & hidden where I could protect them, instead of displaying them proudly where I could enjoy them. I was saving them for a rainy day.

I will never understand the determination to delay joy in an effort to prolong it.

Because the truth is, even when the rainy days come — how often do we actually pull out the Harry Potter puzzle?

When do we make time to play board games? To color?

When do we allow ourselves to wear the pearls & drink the wine? To use the good China?

I woke up this morning dreaming about stickers for the same reason I let myself buy a sparkly pink notebook and black lace cat ears at Walmart this weekend. Because my inner kiddo wants to play.

Because making art, much like drinking the fancy wine, doesn't need to be something I only do — or even consider — on rainy days.

Living life, whether that's breaking in the coloring book and running down the colored pencils or building a foam castle puzzle and losing a piece or two, doesn't have to wait until the “right” time. Until a “good” time.

I refuse to keep prolonging my joy.

I refuse to protect my stickers in favor of a tomorrow that's promised to no one.

And when it rains, you better believe I’ll be out there, in rain boots or barefoot, and dancing with gratitude to feel the squishy mud beneath my feet & wet droplets on my face for another day.