Thrifting

You ever stand at the cusp of a moment that you know is the beginning of some kind of change?  But you don't really know what?  December 31 was such a moment for me.  We spent the holiday with some friends of ours in New York state, just over the line from Connecticut.  It was a marvelous few days, in a rustic setting, and there was a lot of unhurried conversation and general relaxation.  Our friends did a little dance party for the kids before we put them to bed (probably not the best idea, but it was New Year's Eve), and after, as most of the adults sat up and talked, I had a strong feeling that I was at the start of something.  I still don't know what that is, but I can feel it--change is coming.  I'm kind of holding my breath, waiting for whatever it is to happen.

For the past 18 months or so, I've been hard at work on my second novel (no news there).  This book has taken a lot of work, particularly emotional work, because of the nature of the story.  The characters go through some pretty tough things, and in order to write that journey, I had to travel that road with them.  Sometimes it felt like I was never going to get to the end of it. 

In January, I worked to some self-imposed deadlines, and then to some exterior deadlines, as I pushed to get the book to the point that I could pass it off to my three beta readers.  This meant not only a lot of polishing of the text, but I had to cut the novel from 170K words to 102K.  It was painful!! 

My goal was to get the manuscript to my readers by mid-February so that I could spend Lent working on query letters to shop the novel around, and also start developing my next book (I have three or four good ideas bubbling on the stove, so to speak, but have to develop and/or research them). 

I did meet my deadlines, and my manuscript is with my beta readers, but I'm at loose ends.  After having such a large portion of my creative space occupied by these characters and their story, it is strange to have them gone.  Sort of like saying good-bye to a long term houseguest.  I mean, I know I'll have to work on the manuscript again when I get it back later this spring, and there is still the arduous task of shopping the book around, but I'm no longer stitching the story from whole cloth.  I'll be doing alterations, to get the fit right. 

All that has meant that I've put sewing on the back burner.  The way back burner.  I find my sew-jo is kind of missing action (although I'm knitting tons, so there's that).  I have two dresses I'd like to make for late spring/summer, but that is all that is on my sewing list at the moment (and frankly, the dresses are optional).  I'm dithering about patterns unsure what to use, what will fit me best and suit me.  I  find myself reexamining my style, considering what suits me and flatters my today-body during this season of my life, which is one of almost constant churn (and lots of toast).

My winter clothes are mostly shop-bought or thrifted, and while I felt bad about it initially, I realized that there is a finite amount of creative energy in myself, and I've channelled most of it into the book, and the rest into my knitting.  In this cold season, that is a better use of my time. 

One of my goals for this year is to deepen my routines and rhythms, so that I don't have to think so much about them--I'll just do them.  This isn't a particularly profound goal, but it does mean a bit of mindfulness about how I spend my time at home, and about being emotionally present with my children.  They are moving into new stages, and that means different things for me as a parent. 

I know that these next few years are going to be a lot of churn for everyone and I want to make sure that my relationship with my kids is strong enough to get through it with them.  My goal is not to prevent their mistakes or save them from them, but to accompany them in their struggles, as they find their way to adulthood.  I hope to give them the tools to make good choices in their lives, and to build a foundation that they can lean on as adults, but I can't force them or control them in their choices either.  That has been an interesting lesson to learn, and one that I will need to continually remind myself of as they mature.

In a related matter, I've thought a lot these past weeks about what it is to love.  I think love is a radical acceptance of a person where they are, as they are, who they are.  Not to try to change them to suit yourself, just accompanying them on their journey, while you are on yours. 

This is a difficult lesson to learn.  I have special needs kids, and there is always in me the impulse to try and make my kids seem "normal" so that they won't stick out or be made fun of.  But that isn't who they are, and trying to deny that reality doesn't help anyone in the long run.  It's uncomfortable for me to be that radically accepting and loving.  But I know that I need to work more at it within myself. 

A lot of blather about not very much, but sometimes I find it helpful just to put this stuff down, if only for myself.