Have you ever seen a video of an artist painting what looks like an indecipherable swirl of mess? Random paint strokes – neither uniform nor identifiable as a pattern – populate the canvas.  

There’s no control.  

Only chaos.  

You wonder if the painter knows what they’re doing. Are they blind?  Do they even have a plan? 

But just when you think the disorder can’t get any more disorderly, suddenly order arrives in the form of a stunning work of art that inspires our awe and respect as we gaze at it. 

The canvas is revealed to the world. And the world applauds. 

And we come to realise that the artist isn’t an artist. They never were. The artist is a parent; the canvas, their child. 

There was no plan. Instead, they vowed to show up each day and give it their best effort, one paint stroke at a time. 

And that was enough. That was more than enough. Because when will giving it our best not be enough? 

The painter isn’t a painter. The painter is a parent. 

That parent is you.