I was broken.
The summer of 2016 was brutal for me. My life imploded, I sunk into deep depression, and I realized that my heart, instead of being a lush, vibrant garden, was simply hot, dry dust. I had nothing left to give. As a last desperate attempt to grow something in my wasteland, I turned to gratitude.
I needed something big…something I couldn’t avoid. Something so important that it HAD to change my life. I decided to paint my gratitude. One hundred hearts for one hundred women who touched my life.
At first I had a hard time coming up with a hundred names. I started a list and left a lot of it blank, hoping I could fill it in. With a bundle of nerves (I hadn't painted for others before) I began to paint my first heart. Then a second. Then a third.
One day I noticed a tender green shoot in my heart, and then another, and another. I began to notice the people around me in a new way - their struggles and joys and quirks and delights endeared them to me. I felt new life in my soul. My list filled and overflowed - one hundred became too small to contain my gratitude!
The shards of my broken, weary heart were swept away and a new, beautiful, vibrant one grew in its place. My confidence began a massive upward trajectory. Darkness turned to light. Scarcity into abundance. Broken into whole. It was a miracle. Truly. A miracle.
I realized this project was too good to keep to myself and so the Hundred Hearts Project was born. Or maybe harvested. The ripe, luscious fruits of my new heart.
