Ok, I'm tooting my own horn!!
I've got a confession. I'm a serial offender. Of what you ask? Of starting projects and not finishing them. It's just horrible. I sometimes wonder if it's a way for me to continue finding something disappointing about myself. I actually sometimes think about what will happen when the time comes for me die. Who will finish that bag? Will anyone want to finish that quilt top and then back it? What about all the photos that are not categorized or put into attractive albums? And those boxes of fabric! Will they just think I was a dreaded 'hoarder' (my mother-in-law's most hated characteristic in other people), or will they see the potential in it, even in the ugly scraps. I admit, some of those ugly scraps could go.....
So! Today, I persevered and won. I finished something! Admittedly, I started it about a year ago. And I'd had the fabric for it for 10+ years prior to that. (She says with embarrassment) But today, it is done!!! I feel so grand! Could this be the start of a new chapter in my life?
What is it you wonder. It's a patchwork duvet cover. I had it almost finished when I puffed out. It's like the rower from the Australian Olympic team who during the last Olympic games, stopped rowing before the finish line. Just seconds to go.........
When I was a performer, a professional modern dancer, I would have never conked out before the finish. I spent hours upon hours, heaped onto years of devotion, perfecting my skills. One of my very favourite performance teachers, Deborah Hay - wow, she is just so intensely captivating on stage, a movement Monk, I loved learning from her - instructed us in the art of performing by saying to us, "You are whole. You are changing. Whatever you see reminds you of your wholeness changing. Invite being seen. Invite being seen but not identifiable in your fabulously unique 3 dimensional body." I've never forgotten those words. I've tried to hold them close to my soul over the many years since I first heard them, even as a bereaved parent. Maybe especially as a bereaved parent. Others would not be able to touch the tip of what I was living and experiencing if I didn't invite them to do so. They may not accept the invitation, but their acceptance or rejection ultimately was not as important as my desire to offer them the chance to be present and true to the moment.
I realized today that blogging fulfills that part of me that I no longer get to explore, the performer in me. It's not like being on stage where being in the moment is of the moment. When the performance is over the only tangible remnants are memories. But I still think about my 'audience' and how I might best embody my thoughts. I don't even know if very many people view my blog but it doesn't really concern me. It's about the performance. I blog to invite being seen.
The finished project; a new duvet cover for my 3 year old son's bed:
So! Today, I persevered and won. I finished something! Admittedly, I started it about a year ago. And I'd had the fabric for it for 10+ years prior to that. (She says with embarrassment) But today, it is done!!! I feel so grand! Could this be the start of a new chapter in my life?
What is it you wonder. It's a patchwork duvet cover. I had it almost finished when I puffed out. It's like the rower from the Australian Olympic team who during the last Olympic games, stopped rowing before the finish line. Just seconds to go.........
When I was a performer, a professional modern dancer, I would have never conked out before the finish. I spent hours upon hours, heaped onto years of devotion, perfecting my skills. One of my very favourite performance teachers, Deborah Hay - wow, she is just so intensely captivating on stage, a movement Monk, I loved learning from her - instructed us in the art of performing by saying to us, "You are whole. You are changing. Whatever you see reminds you of your wholeness changing. Invite being seen. Invite being seen but not identifiable in your fabulously unique 3 dimensional body." I've never forgotten those words. I've tried to hold them close to my soul over the many years since I first heard them, even as a bereaved parent. Maybe especially as a bereaved parent. Others would not be able to touch the tip of what I was living and experiencing if I didn't invite them to do so. They may not accept the invitation, but their acceptance or rejection ultimately was not as important as my desire to offer them the chance to be present and true to the moment.
I realized today that blogging fulfills that part of me that I no longer get to explore, the performer in me. It's not like being on stage where being in the moment is of the moment. When the performance is over the only tangible remnants are memories. But I still think about my 'audience' and how I might best embody my thoughts. I don't even know if very many people view my blog but it doesn't really concern me. It's about the performance. I blog to invite being seen.
The finished project; a new duvet cover for my 3 year old son's bed:
Comments
the words and the duvet.
I have not finished a project since, well, never mind...just know you are not alone in the non-finishing stuff!