It started with a tickle in my throat on Sunday, and is petering out as I type this with the occasional nose blow and coughing fit. In-between was a whole other battle. 😷
I really struggled with taking care of myself and abiding by what I needed this week. When Brooks tried (and succeeded) to deter me from expending energy, I reacted with stubborn grumpiness (like an actual troll, which is also what I looked like most of the week). I was frustrated that I couldn’t muster the motivation to work on pattern designs, or quilt, or even read. I couldn’t muster the motivation to do anything, and yet my mind was still in the fast lane. “But how are you going to become a textile designer if you only work on patterns once a week? Uhm excuse me but how are you ever going to be happy if you don’t start solving all of your perceived problems right this very instant? Uhm hello but your problems are so big that you can’t even define them or put a finger on them, isn’t that scary? What are you going to do when you fail miserably at your own life?”
Really nice conversation right? And yet this is the eloquently versed version of the relentless dialogue that I was experiencing each day that my cold got worse. I added fuel to the fire with judgement, pressure, and worst of all, ignoring my actual needs. I didn’t want to do anything because my body needed rest, not because I’m a failed artist who is just figuring out what a fraud she is. But once that train started, honey I jumped right aboard.
- It’s safe to say that being sick can also dampen my mood a bit, so maybe just take the bad mood for what it is instead of climbing into it like a fuzzy mascot costume and terrorizing my loved ones with it.
- Giving myself what I “want” (a lot of peanut butter puffins and string cheese, and bullshit) when I am clearly in need of something (rest, gentleness, more water, better food, self love) is not a form of love itself, in fact it’s like a neglectful parent who buys their kid the iPhone they want but won’t help them with their reading and writing skills.
- Although I didn’t need to learn it per se, I love any reminder of how grateful I am to have BC in my life. For his numerous trips to fill up my water glass and fetch me a new bendy straw, for his patience and love through totally eye-roll worthy dramatic moments brought on by yours truly, and of course the ever present warmth of who he is. I’m so fortunate to have a kind soul to navigate this life with.
- Paula, the bitch terrorizing voice in my brain (you have one too, hopefully you don’t listen to it as much as I do, but if you do, try naming it. It’s a great reminder that you are not your mind) is not to be trusted. Even, and especially, if what she has to say is too enticingly scary to ignore. That’s the point, it’s a scare tactic.
The irony was not lost on me when I stopped crying about being the laziest worst person ever long enough to realize that it had been less than a week since my last sewing adventure…and that it had turned out beautifully and was a joy to work on. You could say I’m a little humbled after my tantrum these past few days. So now that that’s all behind me, I’m just going to enjoy this calmness and stare at the picture of this amazing travel set that I MADE WITH MY OWN HANDS.
This set goes to BC’s cousin Ashley who is 16 today!! Her very sweet sister Amanda commissioned me to come up with something for the dance superstar, and I’m so happy she did. Happy Birthday to the sweet 16-year-old, enjoy the incredible freedom that being able to drive brings!
The Geo quilt is coming along nicely, and I’ve got two garments I’m dying to make, so stay tuned 🙂