Choices

As I sit here in the room I claim as study and craft room, I look around and see TOO MUCH STUFF!  My bookshelves are full to overflowing.  It’s not that books are a bad thing — in fact, I tend to be inordinately fond of them.  I have novels and non-fiction and how-to books and reference books and craft books and magazines and cookbooks. 

My husband once told me I have enough Bibles for a small third-world country.  I patiently explained that each was a different translation and so could be used to compare and contrast different passages as I did research.  When he asked how many cross-stitch patterns I could use at one time, I simply pointed out how important it was to get them before they went out of print.  And, said the dear man, “I don’t suppose you could try reading the books you have before buying another…”  Poor man – he simply doesn’t understand how a review or reading the flyleaf of a novel or listening to someone else’s recommendation just sends me into action mode — books call to me, truly they do.  I could use the “going out of print” tactic again, I suppose.  “Why do we have so many cookbooks, when we’re rarely home to cook?  Besides, you rarely use a cookbook when you cook.”  What can I say?  I read them — they’re art!

I love crafts!  Counted cross-stitch is a favorite — it’s like painting on fabric, only with a needle instead of a brush.  I’m fairly accomplished in this area, having done it for many years.  In a move, a huge collection of patterns and magazines was lost.  I grieved — and then began replacing them.  I truly have enough patterns and fabric and threads to keep me going for years.  Sewing used to be a common pastime for me.  I still have the sewing machine and serger — now sitting on the floor of the closet, right next to my fabric stash.  I knit some and crochet a lot.  I have collections of yarn and a number of unfinished projects.  I have scrap-booking supplies, thinking that surely someday I would find time to organize and put into books all of the photos of my lifetime.  Those supplies sit next to the boxes of photos.  I have a plethora of rubber stamps and paper and ink pads.  I planned on making last year’s Christmas cards — didn’t happen.  I have stamps for every season and occasion and they remain basically unused.  In my defense, I did decide quilting wasn’t for me, so I gave away fabrics and patterns — well except for a few wall-hangings and one jacket I think I must have in my wardrobe.

Writing is a passion.  I have several dictionaries, more than one kind of thesaurus, grammar books, a collection of half-filled journals, a pile of notebooks, a drawerful of pens, pencils, highlighters and sticky notes, many inspirational books about the writing life, a desktop computer and a laptop.  I do write, but nowhere near as much as the trappings would have one believe. 

Problem is, I reason, that there are never enough hours in the day.  I still have to work for a living.  And, that sounds weak even to me…

Earlier today, I began to read “Plain and Simple” by Sue Bender.  I hadn’t gotten too far into it when a sentence just reached out and grabbed me.  “Accumulating choices was a way of not having to make a choice, but I didn’t know that at the time.  To eliminate anything was a foreign concept.  I felt deprived if I let go of any choices.” (pg. 7)

As I look around me now, in this room, I see an accumulation of choices, way too many choices. 

It is not that there is anything inherently wrong with anything in this room, or in my desire to do all of the things for which I am so amply prepared and stocked.  It is more that it is over-abundance, both of materials and intentions.  I have so many choices that I never finish anything.  It is frustrating, it is depressing and it is wasteful.  I must simplify.

Actually, even before reading Bender’s words, I had begun a process of sorting books.  They are difficult to give up, but I have done just that.  Some I have donated to places that can use them, some of them I have taken to sell at Half-Price books.  Yesterday, I took a box and 2 shopping bags full.  I managed to get out of there with only three new books and some cash.  It’s a start.

I’ve decided to share some of the stamping and scrapbooking supplies with my daughters; some I may donate to a church’s women’s group or a senior center.  They should be used!  Likewise for fabrics and patterns.

I know if I delve into my past, I will find that I felt deprived as a child and was not encouraged to be creative, so then decided as an adult, I could do it all.  But I can’t — even if I were not working. 

I will further examine this idea of choices as I journal and write.  I suspect I will find an over-abundance of choices in other areas of my life.  Like Bender, I’ve always wanted to excel at everything I do, and to be in control.  As with crafts, in my life, I must simplify.  It will be a work in progress.  You see, I don’t make choices well… 

To friends…

I was reminded the other day by a friend that I had been neglecting my blog.  She was absolutely correct, but I truly didn’t realize how long it had been since I’d made an entry until she pointed it out.  Time has just gotten away from me of late, and I’ll admit to not having the best self-discipline in the world.  Because of that, I’m glad to have a friend who will take me to task when I need it.  Friends should do that.  Friends should be honest with one another.  A friend knows when her friend needs a nudge in the right direction or a healthy shove to get her friend out of harm’s way.

That being said, my mind has wandered on to the subject of friendship in general, and those in my life specifically.  I’ve lived long enough to have made many acquaintances and friends.  I’ve also been around long enough to have lost some of both.  I have lost some to death, several being taken after far too short a life — and those losses hurt and they certainly remind me of my own mortality.  However, the greatest pain of all comes from those who just seemed to drift away, especially if I have been the one guilty of neglecting the relationship.  I know we all make friends and lose friends — we move away or find a new job or just begin a new phase of life.  That’s natural.  But I know I’ve lost track of some people I once considered precious to me, through neglect, indifference, faulty priorities.  I make no excuses for my behavior.  Of course, I know that relationships are never one-sided and likely some of the neglect and indifference were mutual. 

Then I think how sad that is.  A friend is a gift.  A friend is an asset.  A friend is an investment of love and time and care.  A friend is a blessing.   With relationship comes responsibility.  A friendship should be nurtured and cared for.  Otherwise, like a neglected garden, it can wither and die. 

I thought I had lost a treasured friend once, through petty instances of hurt feelings and misunderstandings and miscommunication.  It was so hurtful because we had been so close.  The loss was so deep that I grieved it as a death.  Indeed, I felt like a part of me had died.  She was a soulmate, a sister of the spirit.  One night, we happened to be at the same event.  I saw her from afar but I wasn’t sure she’d seen me.  All through the ceremony we were attending, I was acutely aware of her presence.  I searched heart and soul trying to remember what was so awful that we were so cruelly separated.  I came up with nothing of any consequence.  As the crowd wandered outside at the event’s end, I saw her again, at the oppsite end of the sidewalk.  To this day, I do not know how I closed that distance between us, but I found myself before her, looking into her eyes, telling her how much I had missed having her in my life.  We hugged and both shed some tears, and promised we would work out whatever was wrong between us.  We did just that.  Today, in this woman, I have a friend for life.  We don’t see each other often since we no longer live close to each other and sometimes we’ll go awhile without emails.  No matter, we just pick up where we left off.    She blesses my life by being a part of it.

I am fortunate in that I have several friends like this.  Neither time nor distance will ever separate us for long.  Our souls and hearts are intertwined for eternity.   Still, I think of those whom I’ve lost track of — would they have been friends for life if I had taken the time and given the effort to be a good friend to them?  I’ll never know.  The past is gone, I can’t foretell the future, but I have resolved that, here and now, I will be a better friend.

Of late, my concept of friend has expanded in a marvelous way.  As a member of several e-circles in a wonderful organization, Story Circle Network, I have friends whose faces I have never seen, and whose voices I have never heard.  I’ve never been to their homes, though I am sure I would be welcomed should such an occasion arise.  There is a level of trust and honesty and openness and support and love.  I am amazed and honored and humbled to be a part of this.  We are women from all walks of life, in all parts of the U.S. and Canada and Australia.  We are young and middle-aged and older.  We are finding our voices and writing true words.  We are there to grieve with one another in loss and to celebrate victories.  We encourage one another, we support one another, we dream dreams with one another, we travel vicariously with one another.   We exchange recipes and news and opinions.  As a member of my reading e-circle has said, we are “encircled” by love and caring in our circles.  This may be the very best application of cyber-communication in the world.  I love it!!

So here’s to friends…life’s greatest treasure.  I hope you all know who you are.  I love you, one and all.

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. (Ecclesiastes 4:12 NIV)