A brisk wind is blowing; soon I'll have to go out in it to pick up my granddaughters from school. How delicious to play this role in their lives, yes even when it wears me out. I'm for some reason noticing many things to be grateful for, all around me.
I have to laugh at the last line of my previous post: Please, may I never have to sew again! I laugh because I spent 5 hours yesterday making my youngest granddaughter a rag quilt. Funny how you can vow to never do something again, but when it's for someone you love that vow goes right out the window. And so I'm grateful for the gift I know this flannel quilt will be to her.
Here's something else worthy of my gratitude. Right in the middle of working on 2 big Christmas projects, I realized there is no way I could finish both, or even one of them, by Christmas. Normally this would throw me into a tailspin that would have me obsessing and stressed for days. Am I simply getting too old to allow such things to affect me? Or maybe I'm finally, finally learning that there really is no sense in stressing over what I can't control. Whatever the reason, I'm beyond thankful to recognize the need to give myself permission to change plans, and to be able to actually give myself that permission. I contacted both individuals who knew what I was making them (a necessity, since I had to consult them about colors, etc.) and neither of them care if they have to wait a few more weeks. One of them even expressed relief because what she's making me isn't even half done!
It's the little things like this (if one can accurately refer to them as 'little') that gives me a sense of hope. Hope that I'm heading in the right direction. And even if I dawdle along the way, or take shortcuts that turn out to be dead-ends, I'm getting somewhere nonetheless. I'm not cracking a whip over my head as I've done all my life, but neither am I frozen in place, afraid to make the least decision lest it turn out to be the wrong one.
I've done both for far too long: drove myself furiously, or refused to move forward. When I see that I'm progressing even in a small area of life, it warms me. It makes me grateful. All is not gloom and doom, though there will always be plenty of that in this old world. This isn't a denial of the very real tribulations we all must face in life, this is an acknowledgement that --despite the tribulations-- there are also good things to experience.
I persevered in making the quilt because I wanted my granddaughter to have one like her sisters'. Not out of a sense of "I have to" but out of a sense of desire. I knew it would challenge me, as all sewing does, but I chose to forge ahead.
Life has been steadily teaching me, though I've been a slow and dull learner, that the sky really won't fall if I can't finish a project on time, or if this, that or the other happens. Not everything is a catastrophe; when something truly is, I bet I'll manage to get through it because of all the experience I've had getting through so many of them.
I didn't mean to write this as a gratitude post, but see what I mean? What I intended to do got lost in what I really needed to express, and it turned out just fine.
I am looking forward to the day I no longer have to walk through life with not just my fists, but my entire body clenched. I'm getting there, I swear.