Sunday, August 2, 2015

What I learned in July

1. The X-Files is coming back! (albeit temporarily)
     (too bad I don't have cable anymore)

2. I learned the other spinning technique.
     There's worsted spinning, then there's woolen spinning. This isn't a spinning blog, so I won't go into detail. Suffice it to say I started with worsted-style (as everyone does), but this month I taught myself woolen-style. I won't say I've mastered it, but I'm getting pretty comfortable with it.

3. I realized I kinda wanna dress boho.
     This is a big change for someone whose high school uniform was jeans and T-shirts. And much of the wardrobe I've amassed over the last {cough, cough} years has been more tailored than anything, because business casual. But now I work at a tech company that's far more casual; the programmers/developers routinely wear knee-length shorts and flip-flops. And I'm not in a client-facing position, so I could revert to t-shirts and jeans--and actually that's what I'm wearing a couple days a week, not least because they've shoveled several employee t-shirts at me since I started last December. Still, I'm resisting the latest t-shirt design, even though the company is subsidizing it. Before I started this job I'd been saying for years, "The last thing in the universe I need is another t-shirt."
     However. I don't have the kind of clothing budget that would allow me to revamp my whole wardrobe overnight (or even in a year). So we'll see.

4. I have a disturbing streak of greed, or entitlement, or something.
     In July I participated in "Tour de Fleece," which is about spinning during the Tour de France. I was in several online groups sharing pictures of our progress. Some of them had prize drawings for those who shared their progress... most waiting until the end, but one or two had weekly drawings.
     I got a tiny bit angry when I didn't win.
     This disturbs me. It wasn't supposed to be about winning things--it was supposed to be about focusing on spinning for three weeks and improving. (See #2 above.) And cheering one another on. But I wasn't really cheering anyone on. Apparently I just wanted prizes.
     I realized this during the Tour. As the month-end drawings approached, I told myself to forget about the prizes, let them go. I wasn't 100% successful, but I guess it was progress...
     And then yesterday I won the BEST prize of all that I had tried for. Possibly the best prize in the whole shebang. A spindle and a matching pen made from rare wood, so rare that the woodworker only made one other spindle out of it, for his own private collection.
     Ironic? Humbling? OK, woohoo!! But still.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Multipotentialite—are you one?

This is a sequel to my previous post. Emilie Wapnick, who coined the word "multipotentialite," has given a TEDx talk. I'd like to share the video with you.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Spun to spinning

I have a new obsession: hand spinning.

No, not with a spinning wheel. With drop spindles

I'm spinning 15 minutes a day, because people say that's the way to learn--frequent sessions to build muscle memory, but short so as not to overtax yourself.

Yes, it seems a bit crazy--even to me. I have a full-time job and a disabled husband; I don't even have time to knit everything I want to knit, now I want to make the yarn myself?

There are other words besides "crazy" for people like me. Scannermultipotentialite; etc. These words describe someone who has many interests and often has talent in many of these interests.

I've always been that way. I always wanted to DO everything that interested me, not just admire those who were doing it. I've often wondered what librarians would think if they analyzed the topics I check out books on.

There are advantages and disadvantages to being a multipotentialite (the term I prefer). I think it keeps my mind lively and active and always learning. On the other hand, there's the occasional flurry of spending on materials for yet another hobby, and then having to store them. Sometimes the new interest wanes, and those materials become clutter--like my little cache of art supplies for Zentangles. I also clutter up my schedule and have to weed out activities.

This is why my blog doesn't have a focus, by the way. How could I possibly write about ONLY ONE THING?

I do see some common threads (pun intended) in my interests that do stick. They're often creative, and they have to do with my curiosity about how things work and are made and what's behind the scenes. (Behind the scenes! maybe that's why my favorite musical adventure was playing in a pit orchestra for musicals!)

I have a strong leaning toward what's most natural, traditional, or ancient, but I'm also interested in science and technology. (Proof: I have a drop spindle created on a 3D printer. Two extreme ends of the geek spectrum embodied in a single object.)

The Lord made me this way. The trick I'm still working on is how to harness it rather than letting it drag me around.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Scotland the Brave

My husband found a YouTube video of "Scotland the Brave"* with lyrics.

Now he's obsessed.

This is a very, er, hawkish song.

*If you aren't familiar with that title, you must not be into bagpipe music. But I'll bet you've heard the tune.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

The spiritual side of decluttering

This post will be more about questions than answers. Thinking "out loud"... maybe starting a conversation? Because I sure don't have this all sorted.

I have plenty of my own trash that needs to go out.

I've read a couple of the latest books on decluttering. They come from very different standpoints, but I'm intrigued by what they have in common... which is something I haven't really seen addressed before. They both bring in the spiritual.

The books:
Amazon link 
Amazon link

Who hasn't heard of Marie Kondo's book? Her prose and her method are simple, and the book is short. I'm seeing Instagram photos of people's closets and drawers hashtagged #konmari. I've even heard it discussed on podcasts. However, the discussions always get to the exceptions people are making for themselves from Kondo's method; for instance, "I don't greet my house when I come home." More about that later.

The coauthors of Breathing Room are a "spiritual intuitive" and a psychiatrist. It's a much denser, more complicated book than Kondo's. I had to force myself to keep reading, to the point where I wasn't finished when it came due at the library, and I turned it in with a sense of relief. This isn't a review of the book; I just want to point out that their method has far more to do with the emotional and spiritual causes of clutter than any physical method of clearing it. A reviewer on Amazon says the spiritual principles in it are Buddhist.

And, the spiritual principles in Kondo's book are Shinto. I've heard people try to dismiss her approach to objects as merely cultural, but they must be ignoring Kondo's statement that she starts each decluttering project in her business by kneeling in the center of the house and praying to it.

Now, I'm not about to go off on a rant. I'm just establishing that these authors have found, in practical experience with their clients, that decluttering success involves spirituality.

Could there be a lesson here for me, as a Christian, in my struggle with clutter?

I think so.

If there's a spiritual component to clutter and decluttering, we ought to be able to come at it from a Christian point of view. Maybe that would help?

Basic tenet from Jesus: "'s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." (Luke 12:15, ESV)

Forgetting that is one cause of clutter. Forgetting it can also make it hard to declutter, if part of the problem is a difficulty in letting go of things. These aren't the only issues, for sure. I have a complicated mix of motivations and hangups that go into my clutter problem, and I'm sure it'll be different mixes for different people.

Here's ALL of Luke 12:15:
15 And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
Being covetous can be a root of clutter. It's a sad fact that I often buy yarn faster than I can knit it up, books faster than I can read them. Just yesterday I almost bought a new journal even though I'm only four pages into the current one.

Does covetousness also make it hard to let go?

Let's brainstorm: spiritual issues that make it hard to declutter.

  • Fear (of needing something after it's discarded, etc.)
  • People-pleasing (I can't get rid of that--Mom/Grandma/Aunt Betty gave it to me)
  • Clinging to the dream or fantasy that caused you to acquire the item in the first place

Let's see more ideas in the comments.

Of course there are non-spiritual roadblocks too. Time, energy, all that. Getting around to it.

Here's an idea though: I'm thinking it might be good to start a decluttering project by kneeling in the middle of the house and praying not to the house, but to our Lord, for His aid in overcoming whatever it is we need to overcome within ourselves to succeed at decluttering.

I'd love to see comments... what are your thoughts?

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

20 things I learned in 2014

I'm participating in a blog linkup with Emily P. Freeman at Chatting at the Sky--What We Learned in 2014.

1) I learned about African refugees from Congo and elsewhere, right here in Illinois, who fled persecution for being Christians.
     Among others, I got acquainted with two sisters who came here with their aunt--their parents were murdered.

2) Don't leave hand-knits within reach of a puppy.
     (Really I knew that, but it only takes a lapse of a few minutes...)

3) That Jeremiah 17:9 does NOT apply to the Christian regenerated under the New Covenant.
     It gets quoted a lot: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?" That's the King James and I still have it memorized. But that's an Old Testament verse about the carnal heart! I learned this from John Eldredge's book Waking the Dead.

4) To accept my childlessness.
     Thanks to the Beth Moore study Breaking Free.

5) That I have insulin resistance and the ketogenic diet is the one for me.
     ... in other words: "Butter makes your pants fall off!!"

6) I really really need to journal.

7) Also, I'm supposed to be blogging.

8) However: Writing is not an end in itself.

9) I learned disturbing things about the founder of the cult I grew up in.
     More about that some other time... maybe.

10) Why my husband felt sick more often than not for almost a year.
     He had a hidden pocket of infection. When it was finally drained, he felt better immediately. In a friend's words: "No wonder he felt bad--he was full of toxic goo!"

11) That I can buy yarn faster than I can knit it up.

12) It's all very well donating to a cause; the challenge is trying to help a real, live, flawed and neurotic human being whose problems have no easy solution.
     There's someone who just exhausts me. Mostly I just drive her to church, because she doesn't have a car, but just listening to her talk wears me out. I'm not sure if I just need to let her chatter just roll off my back, or what. Do I just need to learn patience?

13) Even mild sleep apnea takes a lot out of you.
     I wrote a whole blog post about it.

14) The power of the Holy Spirit in my life means I don't have to succumb to my fears and weaknesses.
     um... duh?

15) I may have made an agreement many years ago to the effect that I should never reveal my heart.
16) Listening to an audio Bible while knitting rocks!

17) I learned about hybrid cameras, and got one.
     Many settings available--aperture, shutter speed, plus digital effects--but the size of a point-and-shoot. Perfect for me!

18) Lots more about introversion.
     I read Introverts in the Church by Adam McHugh, and Quiet by Susan Cain.

19) That I'm a direct descendant of John and Priscilla Alden of the Mayflower.
     My aunt did the legwork to prove it to the satisfaction of the Mayflower Society, which she has now joined. I could join too by just appending proof of my descent from her parents.

20) How to survive a polar vortex.
     Wear all the wool!

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Change happens

Sometimes unforeseen changes come with blinding rapidity, one after another, just when you were settling into a routine.

I'm starting a new job tomorrow. I wasn't looking for a new job; this one came looking for me, by way of a former coworker letting me know about an opening where he's working now.

At first procrastinated following up, assumed it wasn't for me, told my husband I wasn't really considering it. In fact, I tried to push it away. I wrote a high desired salary on the application form; I told the interviewer my limitations quite frankly. "I don't want you to think I...."

But when the interviewer told me what the job actually entails, I realized it would be a good career move for me. If nothing else, it'll look better on my resume than what I've been doing the last 18 months. They didn't offer what I had asked, but I negotiated them up to about halfway between what I'd written down and what they'd initially offered. (First time I ever negotiated; I guess it's true what they say about being prepared to walk away!)

Meanwhile, our 15-year-old dog died. Butch wasn't sick long; he had some sort of crisis at 3 a.m. and went rapidly downhill from there. By the time I got home from work, it was obvious his time had come. My husband and I took him to the vet and had him put to sleep.

I would have been fine with just our cats for a while, but Brian missed having a dog. So long story short, we brought home Sassy from a local shelter on the day before Thanksgiving. Going from an arthritic 15-year-old dog to a 7-month-old chewing machine is quite an adjustment! But walking the dog is back to being good exercise for me.

By the way—this all happened in November!

So I am trying to cut myself a break. My attempts at writing a blog post during this past month have been abject failures; but I was trying to write something Penetrating and Profound, and I just didn't have the bandwidth. So here you go: Prosaic and Paltry.

Even the good changes require that we give ourselves time to adjust.