149. I Dwell in Possibility — Rhonda Willers
The idea of loving unknown possibilities fills me with the biggest joy; it thrills me.
Many years ago I asked a five-year old boy the very mundane question, “What’s your favorite color?”
I’m an artist, and it’s one of my go-to ice breakers with children. It always gets the conversation going, and we explode into all kinds of art talk from there. But this young boy’s profoundly wise answer stuck with me. “I love all the colors,” he said. “Even the ones I don’t know about yet.”
The idea of loving unknown possibilities fills me with the biggest joy; it thrills me. It reminds me of when I first met my nephew, just hours after he was born, and then again when I gave birth to my own children. An instantaneous, deep love radiated through me. I remember thinking, “I love you, and I don’t even know you.” I often experience this kind of instantaneous excitement, joy, even love while working in my art studio. The moment of creation is so delightful, I find myself laughing in pure bliss.
Emily Dickinson wrote, “I dwell in Possibility.” When we think about our futures, what might be our unknown possibilities for joy? I know for certain I will meet more people I instantly love. I will be so enthralled by a future creative idea that I’ll need to drop everything and begin immediately. I will see the magic in a foggy morning and love that moment even though it has yet to come into being.
— Rhonda Willers
