Human nature seems to insist we annually take stock of our progress. I'm a classic under-finisher. Let me explain: for me the creative process of becoming or making far outweighs the finished product. Meaning there are many in-process ideas, projects and goals hanging around the corners of my house. Once something is complete, the 'art' of it is done for me.
This makes me concerned emotionally that I seldom complete anything of value. Sometimes I surprise myself when I look back over a year, though. I see that, in spite of the remaining incomplete things, I manage to get a whale of a lotta stuff done.
Sewing
I hound bookstores, trolling over the craft sections for new sewing books. I know that, technically, I must be hitting my stride because suddenly all those how-to books look the same. How many aprons, draw-string bags or stadium blankets does any given person really have rise to make in a single lifetime?
Into next year, I want to continue learning more couture sewing techniques and terms.
Organizationally, I joined patternreview.com and stored all of my patterns by category. No more digging through boxes to see what patterns I own, or realizing I now own 2 copies of a favorite pattern.
The hubs gifted me with a dress form for my birthday, so really I think I'm all set with tools and bells & whistles.
Production-wise, I completed fewer garments this year than in any of the last six. But they are projects I took my time with and worked hard to complete well. It feels better to finish well than to work at a mad dash, doesn't it?
Sewing is a part of our history, and it's one I want to see preserved and passed on to future generations. For our family, I want to be a small part of that.
Food
Culturally, this is something we women give ourselves permission to obsess about way. too. much. The hubs and I have been vegetarians for about a year and a half now. Switching to vegan is something I hope to accomplish for about 70 to 80% of meals. We're nowhere near that yet.
It takes some discipline to make lifestyle changes. While reaching my goal health-wise may be years off, it feels good to take steps that direction. Eating wholesome foods is somehow physically relaxing. They are calming to the system.
Hooping
I don't look awesome hooping. But I do have fun with it. Probably enough said.
We've made our own hoops out of irrigation tubing and electrical tape. My favorite one is filled with water and covered in a grip for a tennis racket.
Hooping is fun for everybody.
Travel
You literally would not believe
A: how many miles we put on our car each month
B: how familiar my children are with hotels
C: how much energy it takes to complete a day trip
D: how joyful it is to hear discovery from the back seat
E: all of the above
From Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation. Love this movie, and James Stewart. Of course.
One of my priorities in life is to show my kids the world. As much of it as possible. Local stuff. Far-away stuff. Foreign stuff. History. Arts. Geography. It all overlaps out there on the road.
We've gone far. But not too far:
Self Worth
This is a risky topic, with several inherent flaws. I don't care all that much about a big path to self-actualization. However, significance and value are both important. As a mom, it's hard to remember that.
I have a degree in psychology, so I think about my life often. Analyzing is fun. I just feel that life is more fulfilling when a person is able to lift others up instead of themselves. It's not easy. Nor is it human nature. Within a family, it is absolutely essential.
People write blogs for many reasons. Some are commercial, some for self-aggrandizement, some for exploration, and others for journaling. The motivations are probably limitless in breadth. So why am I writing, sporadically at best?
This blog isn't overly personal. It doesn't delve into heavy topics. The Refinery exists to remind me that life can be beautiful in simple, seemingly mundane ways. Is it full of meaning of life stuff? No. The posts remind me that accomplishing little things can bring unexpected joy.
Looking back over a year or two is like seeing tiny markers that allow my memory to be pricked. I smile remembering what I was doing last January, or how I felt the day I created a profile on Blogger.
Not that this defines my contentment. It affirms it. That's very satisfying.
