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I cooked for myself last night. This is pretty good news, considering how blue I have been the last few days… Black dog came home, and cooking is the self-love I need but often t…
Source: Self-Love Stew (VEGAN)
I needed to see this.
A reminder for Self-Love.
This last week.
I know that Jack posted it back at the beginning of August but for me, right here and now, it is what I needed.
Body and Soul and Soup.
Depression is a black hole that eats away at me and sometimes I can resist the pull, I find the light and other times…
Other times I fail.
Its taken me years to be able to say that.
I, who feel deeply that I have NEVER “failed” at anything in life, feel like I have failed myself. And it brings me to tears as I type.
I want so much for myself; know that I am so capable of making the best of myself and that my best isn’t this lump of a person sitting here with welling eyes.
Today is especially painful because it symbolizes a waste. A waste of my time, of my energy and least important of all, of money.
Over the last year I have done very little physical and both physically and mentally I have suffered for it. Yes, I begun playing hockey and I love it but I could be so much better with a little more effort. My trousers no longer fit the way they should and I honestly have a box of clothing that live in the spare room; banished for my own folly. I have running clothes I feel horrible about wearing because they don’t fit but they don’t fit because I won’t put them on…a vicious cycle if ever there was. I made plans, public statements that I intended to “streak” this holiday season; a 1 mile run every day from Thanksgiving to New Years; and I failed right out of the gate because I failed to do anything. I just…couldn’t. Early this morning there were two people standing in the Seattle Half Marathon starting line because I encouraged them to join me there and I couldn’t show. The part of me that wanted someones else to join me in the training journey, to go thru the ups and downs of milage building and physical challenge was just not enough to actually get myself moving. I have plans, small, manageable plans, to have helped me reach that goal but I just… couldn’t.
And thats the worst part of depression. The feeling that I just…can’t and not having the words to explain it. So I put on the happy face and do my best to function without outwardly failing. I bury myself in trying to be busy around people so I don’t have to rest and be still and just ‘be’ in my own skin. I need to leave family gatherings early because I cannot deal with the stress, my internal stress, of being around people being happy when I feel so very lost. I try not to let my friends down and deal with the fallout when they think that somehow my actions are a reflection of their shortcomings instead of a true reflection of my own. I cry in the shower, both for the fatigue I feel of carrying my mask and for the love I have when my partner sees that I am bearing too much inside and makes my excuses or makes one of himself.
Oddly appropriately to the season that my inspiration today will come from a holiday movie. “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” was not part of my childhood movie rotation but it was for M and when it was on TV the other evening, he hinted that he would rather watch that over the Grinch. As we own both movies and I know it irks him when I recite, I obliged and Mickey Rooney’s voice filled our home. M said that he really remembered a specific song, One Foot In Front Of The Other and as I think I’ve only seen the movie once, I had to wait to see and hear what he meant. It too was something I needed to hear.
I made soup already this morning, one close to Jacks recipe without even seeing her post, so out the door I go.
One foot in front of the other,
my vote for a chance to be reborn.
I’m at a loss this morning. Over the last 23 days I have established a new routine that has been ceremoniously ended. Considering there was a huge ceremony at the start and and the end, there was nothing UN-ceremonious about this process however there is now a gap in my day that needs to be filled else-ways. I am, of course, speaking of the recently ended Winter Olympics 2014.
I have tried “Olympic” knitting in the past but generally set myself either goals that were too lofty or was not living anywhere where I could even watch the Olympics so it was difficult to get into the spirit of the process. In 2012 there was a rather large kerfuffle with the USOC and the use of the term “Ravelympics”, namely they were put out that a legion of knitters would ‘make fun of the effort that olympians put forth’ and would, in general, bring shame to the idea of and word of “Olympics”. There was a huge change on Ravelry to put the legal overkillers at rest and there was launched the renamed the “Ravelympics” as the “Ravellenic Games” and there are a barrage of teams and prizes and rules and basically a massive headache to those of us who, like me, tend to keep to the Yarn Harlots vision of The Knitting Olympics, since it was her invention. I “boycotted” those games because I was just too angry at both our litigious society and the monster that had been created in people but this year I reclaimed the Knitting Olympics as my own.
My goal was to turn this beautiful yarn:
from Fancy Image Yarns in the perfect Seahawks colourway into socks for Mike who had been cheering the ‘Hawks all season and was still charged because of the SuperBowl win.
I cast on during the opening ceremonies and cast off the second sock on the Friday before the Games ended. These socks feature the “Fish Lips Kiss Heel” which was a first for my sock knitting but certainly won’t be the last, in fact I’ve already cast on another pair to use this heel with. It fits so very well and looks beautiful on the foot, mine and Mikes! Here is a cool interview with the Sox Therapist, creator of the FLKH. If you are on Ravelry and knit socks, I HIGHLY suggest you buy this heel pattern. Best $1 I’ve EVER spent on my knitting.
Because being a monogamous knitter is so NOT in my genes, I had to get into another project too and while its not strictly “Olympic Knitting” because it was started before, it was my goal to get it done before closing ceremonies.
This was the pattern: Song of the Sea
This is the unblocked long cowl that I made from my handspun!
It is soaking in its bath of Soak right now and will be laid out to dry as soon as I finish this post here. The true joy of this project is that it was sheep fluff and worm spit when I got my hands on it and now it is a beautiful, wearable and perfectly wearable object in so many ways. I need to do more with my handspun because I always feel so accomplished when I have a finished project.
Now its over and instead of spending the morning with Mike on the couch watching CBC and the Olympics live, because the US coverage SUCKED, I have had to find some other way to begin my morning. Good thing I’ve started running again, beginning again today, because that was the perfect way to put forth my own Olympic effort. Getting up and going running in the rain and cold? Yes, it was an Olympic effort and while I’ll not be anywhere close to the 26.2mile maintained 6 minute mile that I would need to qualify myself for a Summer Games in this lifetime, I’ll keep running all the same.
Someone recently said to me, “If you think that time flies now, just wait until you have children!”. Well as there are no children, save for those borrowed from my friends and family in my future plans, I’ll just have to settle for time passing at my own appalling rate.
I have been…busy…since I last blogged in so many, many ways.
My joy of fibre continues. My spinning had been amazing and I’m working on this Into the Whirled, in Mandarin (an old club offering on BFL) and this Enchanted Knoll , in Johnny Jump-Up on Superwash Merino. More on the spinning soon because , OH BOY, do I have something to show you!!
I have been knitting, but not so much in the last week due to an unfortunate injury:
Pepper was rather put out that we left her at home when we went on our recent camping trip to Salt Creek Recreation Area and didn’t let her seen the pod of Orcas or chase chipmunks and get tangled up like Sisu did so she took out her vengeance on my leg, claws and teeth, after purring and rubbing into me 5 seconds before. I swatted at her, missed, hit the wall and heating vent and damaged my fingers badly enough for x-rays, good painkillers and at least 2 weeks in splints to protect me. Yes, they still hurt 1 week in but I finally have some mobility back though I cannot make a fist or touch those fingers to my palm without pain and actually, they won’t bend that far at all, pain or no. I am not impressed with myself.
The biggest part of what I’ve been doing? Running. Finishing the Rhody Run with my friends was the start of my real training for the Seattle 10k and my mileage has only grown from there. So much so that I have these to proudly display: Bruised toenails #1 and #2. They are my external display of my long runs and I couldn’t be happier or more proud of myself. 11 weeks ago I was dreading the idea of 8 miles whereas now, my last long run was 13 miles in 2.5hours.
Oh yeah. And I’ve been cooking and kitchen experimenting daily, bought a sewing machine and have made pj bottoms, skirts and an amazing infinity dress that I LOVE, have a successful herb garden in my strawberry pot, been reading and listening with voracity and spent far less time with my camera than I intend to do in the future. And intend to keep this blog going as I know I have missed sharing and need to write again.
One of my clearest memories is flipping thru a photo album and seeing photos of my father running. Not just running but RUNNING. Short shorts, no shirt or only a vest, sweat beading…Running. His sport was track and field in high school and then earned a scholarship to college for his excellence.
Third from the right, front row is my father with the rest of the 1969 University of North Texas Team (photo from the digital archives of the Yucca, the UNT yearbook)
I know that his running continued through his time in the US Marine Corps too…though that may be an understatement considering how much running those corpsmen/women do…far too much for the dead! Anyway, I know that there is at least one photo I remember of him racing in a USMC singlet, most likely a battalion ‘team’.
I also know that there was more than once when I was growing up that I wanted to go run with him and he never let me. I was always hurt by this leaving of me behind but I justified his doing so because I was a)not long legged like him, b) not in shape to run with him, c)any other reason I could convince myself of. I don’t know that he ever knew how much I really wanted to run with him.
In 7th grade, I ‘joined’ the middle school track team and signed up for the 3200m (2 miles). Because, you know, my father ran long distances so I can show him how much I am his daughter and make him proud of me and he can come to my meets and be proud of me…yeah. After a week or so of ‘practice’, we had our first meet and I ran…for about 200yds with the pack and then had to walk because I gave myself such a horrible side stitch and was THAT ill-prepared for the race. I also broke one of the rules of running by staying in the inner lane as I was lapped and lapped and lapped again. I was so embarrassed and only saved by two things #1: My family wasn’t there to see my abject failure. More specifically, I mean my father; and #2: One of the guys, G, an 8th grader who had already ran the race, who I barely knew from passing in the hall and at the door to band class, re-entered the track with me and encouraged and wheedled me to jog along with him for the last 2 laps. He stayed with me the entire way and pushed me to keep going. I don’t think that I ever could have thanked him enough. I would still send him a card today if I knew where he was.
After that fiasco, my knees were hurting so much for the next week that I didn’t return to practice again and didn’t actually attempt to run until just a few years ago when wholeheartedly embarking on my weight-loss/health building journey.
I found my passion.
After years of saying that I hated to run and that it wasn’t for me, turns out that it was all along. Which is pretty funny considering my sister has always hated running. Weird because she LOVED soccer when in High School but she always said that she hated the running part. She said that about hating that part in Volleyball too, even though it was just the warm-ups. My brother, K, just professed to me yesterday that HE too dislikes running. While talking to him the other day he declared ME to be the runner of my fathers children and promised to cheer very loud and be very proud of me.
Why would he cheer and be proud of me?
Because in 204 days and some odd hours from today, I’m going to start running in a big race.
SisuGirl is now Registered
for Honolulu Marathon.
I have a training plan, I have races along the way to keep me going and I have a goal. That and some good shoes.
Here we go.
PS: To my HS friends: I was serious about sending G a card. If you know where I can find him, please let me know!
This morning, after talking to my sister and Mum in MI, I got online and started looking for foot races in/around their city. They had just told me that they were no longer going to move down to Appleton, WI so this means that it was a change in venue for me.
And then I saw it: The Marquette Marathon and Half on September 1st.
So I phoned J back and asked: “Do you want MORE stress in your life?”
She told me I sounded like a solicitor and started laughing and then said, “Sure, why not?”
And I told her my idea. We run together in the Marquette Half.
How cool would that be?
M and I fly over there to visit J and J and the boys,
J and I run in the Half on 9/1 (because Mum laughed maniacally when we suggested a family run),
We visit more and then go home.
A perfect plan.
Except J isn’t a runner…at all. It was the one thing she disliked about soccer and despite being the mom of a nearly 3 year old, she doesn’t run at all now.
But its 97 days…
And I’m not opposed to walking with her, should she need to.
I think it would be an amazing “thing” for us to do together because we are so different now (always were) that having this shared experience would be some really cool icing to our relationship.
I hope she is up for it.
I WANT her to be up for it!
Well, yesterday was an far more of a marathon than a simple 12k for me. For starters, since we had no idea when to get there and what might be happening, we got there WAY too early. Mea Culpa. Unfortunately, this little ‘oops’ had us standing around from 9:15 to nearly 11. Which wouldn’t have been so bad had it been a nice, warm, sunny day. What with the wind off the ocean, it would have been lovely. But it was sprinkling and then raining and it turned that cool ocean breeze into something less than nice and made us all soggy and most people were huddling under trees in the lead-up to the start.
Let me tell you something about the start of a race. Unless you are in the front line (and deserve to be there), you feel akin to cattle being being herded. Sadly, there is little you can do to combat this feeling because it seems to be all pervasive. A man next to me at one point remarked about everyone pushing to get into the chute being silly because the race was chip timed. This would have been a wise comment if he himself hadn’t been pushing/being pushed. (Chip timed means that you have this little tag that starts “your” time as soon as you cross a special mat and stop it the same way. You can be the last one to cross (either way) and still be the fastest runner based on time.) Either way, everyone starts leaning on you right from the word “Go” and thus starts the press of thundering bodies.
So I ran. And Ran. For 7.5 miles according to my Garmin. M and Sisu saw me off at the beginning with Sisu pouting that I wasn’t taking her with me. And then I started seeing people from work! C was timing at mile 1 or 2, D was at 6 and (a different) D and M were at 7! I saw a tenant, B running with one of my work friends, M, saw co-worker S at the end and had seen former co-worker B at the very beginning. I missed seeing another former co-worker, also an S, there but I hope she was!
Back to the race…Once I started moving faster I started warming up and I was so grateful for that. After the first mile I wasn’t questioning my wearing a running skirt instead of capri or running pants and I was certainly glad that I didn’t have my wool shirt like I had wanted 10 minutes before. That first mile was a lovely mess of dodging strollers, walkers and people who obviously weren’t paying attention to where they lined up (according to the mph markers at the beginning) and small children. It made me smile, laugh and joke with new comrades in racing and forget that, for me, the first mile is always the hellish one. Once I get through that point of wanting to die and thinking, “Oh dear God, Why did you let me think that I could do this insane thing?”, running, especially race running, is fun for me. The best part of racing is that the first mile goes faster than I think it does and then I’m into it and there is no turning back.
And then the hill starts. I say “Hill” and it is one but it is also a mile+ long steady climb that really tests your will to live. I got lucky on this hill and was positioned near a woman and her friend who was also her running coach. They ran/walked it and it was there pacing and breaks that got me through it. We played pushme-pullyou nearly all the way up and then I passed them on a flat and didn’t see them again.
And then there is a downhill that makes you grateful for the uphill until your knees start to ache followed by rolling hills that keep you hoping for the next downhill. Lucky for me, I found a partner for this time who was wearing a lovely teal blue shirt who kept giving words of encouragement to me as I gave him walk points to shoot for. We worked as a great team for those hills, him saying he needed a break, me saying, once we hit that second pole, him saying OK and then saying run at the next mailbox…I wish I could remember his bib number so I could see how he did. Once we hit a flat part his better speed on flats kicked in and he pulled ahead. However, as he moved off, I got a new partner, a woman in a green jacket (despite the increase in temp, decrease of wind and ceasing of rain) who wanted someone to pace with like I did. I have no idea who she was but I know that we laughed at the guy who had already finished and was running the other way and said that he must be doing a 24k. We went nearly the last 2 miles together and then she caught up with a friend and joined them for the last. And then, in the last half mile, I had M cheering for me right before the final turns and a gentleman in a green t-shirt running next to me telling me that I totally could do this and I remembered that I COULD do it and that, being within sight of the end, I totally HAD done it and so I pushed hard and finished with a smile on my face.
Bib # age sex overall/2141 – age group – Gender/1278
|284||SisuGirl||30||F||F 30-34||Port Townsend||WA||956||58/134||436||1:22:11||11:02|
I did it. I was done AND I had done it in less time than I wanted to. When I first started training I was aiming for 1:15. Then life got in the way and I downshifted to expecting a 1:30. Then the race started and hearing my splits made me think that I could be faster because I already was faster than I expected.
I was so glad to be done because it was the furthest that I’ve raced to date and I, forgive me, was so impressed with myself. It is so awesome to know that I can run like this.
So I moved through the gates, got my awesome t-shirt, some water, a banana and orange slice and walked about to cool off and then M took me home to shower and relax. By this time, it was 1pm. I felt so very done with the day and wanted to just relax.
I left for work at 1:45 and worked until 10pm.
Then I came home and slept.
Worn out to the core.
A very good day.
This morning I woke up nervous. Today, I have a race. Not just any race but the Rhody Run here in Port Townsend. It is a 12k or nearly 7.5 miles and there is a hellish (or so I’m told by past runners and have seen on the elevation map) climb between mile 2 and 3. From there, its nearly downhill, or so the elevation map shows me! I’m excited, I feel nearly ready and I’ll post again soon to tell you how I survived. However, its not the race that I’m nervous about. Its the fact that I have to work from 2-10 AFTER running the race and I don’t know what state I’ll be in that has me concerned!
It is amazing to me how slowly time can go in the morning.
Today, I was rudely awoken at 630 and while it wasn’t dark (far from it, there were sunbeams!), it was still only 6 and a half hours from when I put my book down and I closed my eyes. As the cat clawed at my arms, I pushed her off, saw the clock and thought, ‘just half hour more’…and then the attacked my toes and all thoughts of sleeping went right out the window. I got up, showered, dressed, pin curled my hair and took a seat to review my plan of action for the day. Had some coffee and just as my coffee is getting cold, I looked at the clock. 8am. Really? When I have to get ready for work the times flies by! When I’m at work the evening races and when I get home it seems like its only a few minutes before its 1am and I finally feel like I could sleep. But mornings…they are special to me. I hear the birds singing, I feel the earth warming up, I can see the sun filtering through the trees…it is just this special time for me and I really love mornings in general. Granted, in the recent past I was sleeping until 9 or 10 so it wasnt so much “morning” anymore but just in this past week or so I have been making more of an effort to get up and get going by 8 and in the last few days I’ve been up closer to 7.
Because the insane part of me forgot how classes can add up on you if you aren’t paying attention and decided to take not 1, not 2 but 3 classes this 11 week term in addition to working full time. That is 14 credits; a full-time student. Not only do those classes meet online and have extensive “discussions” but two of them (Anatomy and Physiology 2 and Microbiology) have in-person labs which mean 6 Saturdays, 1 per month per class, I get to spend in Renton, a 2+ hour drive for a 4 hour lab. Did I mention that one of those begins at 8am? Not looking forward to that one so much because of the freakishly early start time for my driving, especially since I highly doubt that M will want to go to that one with me. He is coming with me today though for my first day of lab and for that I am very grateful.
So here I am. Trying to manage my time well to get in classes and work and Oh, did I mention that I’m supposed to be training for three races? Yeah, the first one is on May 20th and I am far from ready. My schedule for this upcoming month is going to be packed with the addition of focused running so I don’t A) Hurt myself and/or B) make a fool of myself come the 20th.
Oh wait…did I mention that I am still trying to knit and spin to save my sanity? Yup, there is still a lot of both going on in Chez Sisu, especially now since I bought the wheel of my dreams. She is a Schacht Matchless and is everything that I could have ever wanted. There will be photos of her to come, along with a review.
All in all, I am so very happy with my busy-ness and actually am getting more done. I focus my time and effort on one thing at a time and it all gets done and I’m happy with the results. I still do some things via multi-tasking. I listen and watch A&P lectures while I spin, pausing to take notes every once in a while. I knit mindlessly while reading texts. I take my texts to work with me and read during my dinner break (not while knitting too, just reading). I set dinner to cook while participating in online discussions. The one thing that I can’t multi-task is the running…which is a good thing. With so much else going on, I think that I need that one task that takes me away from it all. But I’ll have to get back to you on that…I haven’t run in over a week now simply because it was not something I could multi-task!
Instead of launching into a mass of reasons why I haven’t posted, what has been going on with me and my general life status; it should suffice to say that I have been floundering in an ocean of depression, have taken many mouthfuls of brackish water, dodged the flotsam and jetsam of plans, saved all the wool, planted a long awaited garden and finally, finally learnt to swim again.
A trio of socks; blue for me, boy colours for the boy.
A shawl. More specifically The Jubilee Year Shawl
…which I am calling “Happiness” both because it is making me very happy to use this skein of Noro Kureyon Sock yarn (188) which I have had in my stash since 2008 or so and happy because I finally feel like I have found the true calling for this yarn. It has tried to be socks and mittens and a hat and none of those things looked…right. And then I found this pattern purely by chance and it is perfect.
What you aren’t seeing in this wool section is something that is done and gone and I, being the forgetful Auntie that I am, forgot to take photos of said items first. I made my new nephew (RGB) 12 single socks from KP’s Imagination and then knit him blanket squared with the remaining 22g of the skein. Actually, what I did was a bit more complicated than that…I wound each 50g skein into a ball, knit a single baby sock using my standard baby sock pattern, weighed the remaining and split it into 2 22g balls. I then used 22g to knit RGB’s baby blanket. What you see here is the second 22g knit into mitered squares with a bundle left over on top. As I finish this project, I’ll give you more details on it but the general plan is that this will be joined by 12 more colours (24 total), yes, I know you only see 7 here but the other yarn isn’t squared yet, and become a blanket and more baby socks.
Also in Wool is the beautiful Intentions yarn that I have been spinning and thinking through. This project became so much more than I thought it would and while life got in the way and derailed my plans for doing the project in a year, I am so happy to still be working through it.
This is Patience and is perfect for the lesson that I am learning. Thats part of what makes me love my Intentions project. Though it is nothing like I planned, it is exactly what I needed and has been fitting into my life exactly as I needed it.
6 years ago, I made a plan. I wanted a herb garden in a strawberry pot. I knew I wanted rosemary on top, cilantro (coriander), dill, thyme, marjoram, oregano, chives and sage, all the herbs I love to use, in the pockets. The only problem was that I was living remotely and the getting of said pot, herbs and soil was an insurmountable challenge due to cost and logistics. Since then I haven’t lived long enough in a big enough town to have my dreamed of herb garden.
I can not tell you how happy it makes me to have this wee garden. Something that I have wanted for ages is finally mine and just the thought of it makes me smile. And salivate because I can’t wait to use the herbs along the way.
In other parts of life, I have gotten back into running almost by force. I say “force” but what I really mean is that I registered for the Rhody run (12k) on May 20th, the Seattle 10k at the end of August (again) AND the Seattle Half Marathon the Sunday after Thanksgiving and if I don’t “get back into running” then the registration monies go down the toilet and I embarrass myself when I try to complete any or all of these events. So running it is and I feel great doing it. Makes me wonder why I was foolish to ever let myself stop.
In all parts of life…I feel like I am…getting there.
Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.
I’m not quite sure where “there” is but, as always,
“It is the Journey, Not the Destination”.
Where Oh Where does the time go?
I had intended to write about…oh, so many things…Like:
How my tattoo has meaning for me. The 6 stars are for the 60lbs I’ve lost forever with the teal being me and the pink being Melinda, my best buddy in Nelson Lagoon, who worked and ran with me and lost nearly 40 herself! We totally did it together and it is a perfect reminder. No, I will not have any removed if I gain weight…for starters because I have a lower goal in mind and want to add at least 1, maybe 2 more stars.
How I was very excited for the Pasta Dash on Saturday…but its a good thing that I didn’t write about it then because I would have had to write a “I’m so silly” post because it wasn’t held on Saturday the 6th, it is later on today, Saturday the 13th. Duh. Which gave me an extra week to train but also an extra week to fret about it…and I am. Not that I don’t think that I can do it….at least, not really…its more about this being my FIRST race. My first real run with a crowd of people, many of whom will be faster than me, and I will be amongst them trying not to get stepped on or in the way and just running my own race and trying not to get lost or go out too fast. Because I know that I am only racing against myself and only getting a number from it all…my baseline for future races…which I am already signed up for 🙂 The Seattle Marathon 10k is on 8/27 and the Seattle Iron Girl 10k is on 9/11 AND the Pt Defiance 50K is on 10/15 and then there is also the Seattle Marathon on 11/27 🙂 Oh yes, my race card is filling up and I love every mile of it. Running is a challenge and a push and I love the way it makes me feel from start to finish. I can’t wait to see where it takes me.
How I am so involved with my new training course that between that learning and the running, I am so tired every night that I’m going to bed early and sleeping hard. I really enjoy learning how to be a CNA (Certified Nurses Aide) and think that its a great step to future employment and further education. I have 2 weeks of clinical rotation coming up and am very excited to get on the floor and get practicing for real. Also in the “training course” mode, my own studies to become a Personal Trainer are going really well too. Most of it is common sense so I am focusing on the biomechanics at the moment and thanking heaven for my Physiology classes because I know the muscles and this is more review not learning!
How all of a sudden I am realising that I have less than 2 weeks to spin 24 ounces of fiber in a thoughtful manner. Um, No. There is no possible way that I can be thoughtful and insightful and reflexive with a deadline such as that. How I was starting to feel like a major failure that I hadn’t accomplished my goal and I had a whole year to do it, what was wrong with me that I couldn’t even see through this one little project, should I even be thinking about starting another project because, obviously, I can’t seem to see even a simple one thru to the end and I am certainly not getting a Matchless for my birthday because I haven’t spent any time at my wheel in the past few weeks…
And then I remembered to breath and that my Intentions project is an INTENTION, my determination to act in a specific way, to think in a specific way, and I realised that I AM doing just that and I HAVE been doing it, just not while in front of my wheel. I still have Creative Inspiration to be spun but there is less than an ounce left and it was the inspiration for creativity that has gotten me out and away from the wheel in the first place! I wanted to be creative and see where my body would take me. I wanted to be creative and see where my mind and passions would take me…so I put those wants into actions and am doing the above.
And then I realised that all of the stress that I was giving myself was not really about my Intentions deadline at all…it was about my birthday. I felt such dread on the first that I avoided the computer all together just so I wouldnt have to write a post about there being only 28 days left. I have hidden behind “training”, both work and physical, to an extreme that I have just enough energy to get up, run, go to class, come home and make dinner and sit for an hour afterwards (I slept 11 hours on Wednesday night FPS!), so I can avoid blogging. I have resisted looking at my 101 in 1001 list just because I don’t want to see the list of things that I wrote for myself, despite knowing that a LOT of those things were unreasonably written due to time, moving and just plain lack of interest. I have resisted talking about “birthday plans” with M because I feel like I have accomplished nothing in the past 30 years.
And then, I realise how silly I sound. How I am making a big deal out of something very small and that, while 30 is a big birthday, it is only a number. I feel so much better at nearly 30 than I did at nearly 15, 20, 25 or even 28. That while I don’t have the life I imagined I would laying on my bed as a naive teenager/20-something, I have one that is filled with a hell of a lot more adventures and excitement (including the ‘boring’ knitting/spinning bits!). That I am happier with who I am than ever before. That I am happier with where I have been than I ever thought I would be. That I am happier with my outlook for the future, foggy though it may be, than ever before.
How I have to keep reminding myself of that last paragraph over and over because I am nothing if not tenacious…with a slight bit of tedious thrown in there for excitement and need to remind myself.
How I found a wonderfully inspiring quote the other day: “The difference between determination and stubbornness is that one comes from a strong will and the other from a strong won’t.”
And how I have to decide each day which I will have and how I will choose to live that day.
A SisuGirl indeed.