My Zephrystyle Tree Jacket, in Dream in Color China Apple, coming along steadily.
The assistant minister at my UU church sent out an email this week asking for us to think about our year, to look back and maybe send her something to be read aloud during the service this Sunday: the passings, the arrivals, the goals achieved and perhaps even those that eluded us. I deleted it as a matter of course, dismissing any notion that really I have anything to add to such a busy life as my church community must have. There are teenagers and aging parents and new jobs a plenty to fill that part of the service I was certain. But the idea took root in spite of myself, and I have been thinking about what's worth the inventory.
1. I didn't get nearly the amount of things done that I wanted to. I wanted to have more writing to show for my work, more sweaters knit, a more organized house, and more time spent with friends than I got to spend. I wanted to have PS136 finished for Holda's sake. But all said, I managed to cram business into every day, and how I could have gotten more done, I don't know short of giving up sleep. So really, the problem lies not with my work but with my goals. It is possible for me to knit a sweater in two weeks, but it isn't possible for me to do that twice in a row. Next year, and forever after, I'll try to be easier on myself, and to be more realistic about how many hours there are in a day.
2. My oldest, The Teenager, turned 18 a few days ago. I have been his step mom now for almost 13 years. He isn't around much these days, spending much of his non-school time at his job, or hanging out with his friends (where he works). He's a good kid with a puritanical streak, which helps me relax about how much we don't see him. He comes in late, lobs a snide comment on the state of the world over his leather jacketted shoulder, and disappears into his room from where we can hear music until the wee hours of the night. He has a marvellous and dark sense of humour, a passion for politics, and is applying to five universities. I miss him, but I worry about him only a little because his father, The Mister, says that The Teenager is very much like he was when he was that age: not much direction yet, not a lot of interest in the parents, but generally okay if a little confused about how unpleasant the world turned out to be after his sheltered childhood. I trust that The Teenager is going in the right direction, and I know he's a good person. Meanwhile, The Mister is a little freaked about having a son who just turned 18.
3. I went to SOAR. More than anything else this year, SOAR served to legitimize my investment in the fiber arts. I still feel a little shy about the time I spend with the wool. You who read knitblogs certainly understand, but not being "a designer" or an employee of a yarn company, or having really any "label" to slap on the wool thing, after SOAR, I laid claim to "fiber artist." A not particularly productive one (see item #1), but still. It feels right.
4. It just is. I finally learned through many small lessons this year that things are what they are, and that most of what happens is utterly out of my control. Call it god, call it luck, call it other's people's crap, but taking things as they come, not taking it as any kind of evaluation of how good or bad a person I am, and letting it go gently was a big lesson for me this year. I'm not always in that quiet place of acceptance, but it seems the gift of age and experience, and I am in touch with it more and more. Don't get me wrong; I'm still trying like hell to crank out a sweater in a fortnight, and there's way too much in my queue. But that's just who I am.
In the spirit of the year's end I'll ask you, what are the things you noticed in your life? Anything you want to have noted? We're a nice little group here, the comment section of Moth Heaven. Take the mic and share. In the meantime, a Happy New Year wish for you: as my five year old said the other night, may you have love, the spirit of Santa, and Polar Bears for ever and ever.