As a 4th grader the world seemed vast and sometimes unreachable. Carefree and full of wonder, it was the year that we got a new Art teacher. Three years seemed forever with our first one, Pepito, how I loved his classes. But Señor Zamora for some reason seemed like a graduation to bigger things.

School supply list in hand, a few bookstores later, we had the bags full of new notebooks, the pens waiting to be used, and this year's black markers for Art class. It was like Christmas in September!

Why were black markers thrilling to a 9-year-old? The newness, the fact that they were 'grown up' tools, the wonder of what marks they were going to leave, the excitement of learning something new. Noticing that even though they were black markers, they weren't like each other. Some had big broad tips, others chiseled ends, tiny ones, regular size ones, oh the smell!

Art class day couldn't come sooner. Sr. Zamora demoed what we will do on the chalkboard. Translating the chalk marks into our notebooks wasn't a problem. But the new tools, how do we use them? When is the right time to choose each? What is the right way? No erasers?

But as a 4th grader with a new toy, those questions didn't stop us for long. We were to fill a whole page full of circles of different sizes, with the different markers. We created patterns full of movement, repetition, scale, and rhythm. We created a texture. Only none of us knew we were accomplishing so much. I think the innocence of not knowing made this opportunity powerful because there were no inhibitions. I just enjoyed the ride.

Starting was terrifying, why if I mess up? I couldn't, I must not waste even one page of that precious notebook! I grabbed one marker, carefully pulled the lid off, and held it between my fingers. That squeaky drag on the paper, the smell of the ink, the paper absorbing the marks, engaged all my senses. I was consumed by making circles, I was enticed by how my choices gave it life, I was lost in the possibilities: which marker when, which circle where. It was a game, a puzzle, and a good problem all at once.

The page was transformed to a sea of circle water.

I remember starting, more than I remember finishing. But, many years later, I do remember being so proud of what I had done, knowing that I wanted more.

I wasn't aware of it then, but it was an exercise of trust, it was about taking risks (no erasers) with no expectations. I love this story because it talks about developing skills and accomplishing things. It describes what it is like to be so absorbed in the doing, it didn't matter how long it took to get it done. And lastly it speaks about the thrill of giving it all and being pleased with the results. It was about commitment, faith, and growth. I am a firm believer that whatever we put in, we get out.

Do you want to find your heart story? It was a beautiful journey guided by Emma Natter, click here to get there.

I love sharing my learning, my process, and findings, please consider joining my journey.