I have to say that one of the things I've been learning about myself lately has to do with my comfort level in leaving things unfinished. I'm fine with it. seriously. I can unpack all the groceries but one bag and let it languish on the counter forever and it actually doesn't bother me. I have a few friends who are (right now) pulling their own hair out at the idea of the lonely bag on my counter and the unfinished nature of the grocery trip. I'm complete with the unfinished nature of myself. There are times I wish the shelves to be tidy, the laundry 'finished', the dishes all clean. . . but I almost feel that those are my crazy days, when the idea of perfection has gone awry in my head... the family of four that I live with will never ever be done with laundry, never ever finished. . . the dishes will only be all clean when we are absent. . .
I agree that there is great peace in order... I do . I feel it, even. I like traveling to my friends' homes and looking at their cleanliness, I breath deep of the organic bathcleansers and the bleach... different strokes... ! ...
at my grandmother's funeral service two years ago, I made a quilt block and left it -unfinished -for her to take with her. . . there is something magical in the unfinished, it can go anywhere. . .
Right now I'm in a sewing project making angels... they are a strange looking bunch and they are teaching me alot about sewing techniques and color planning and I'm trying to leave my expectations for the end result behind, so that I enjoy the process and just keep going, as I really am learning alot. ..but on each angel, so far, there is something I havent' finished, an idea that I didn't flush out... some embroidery that doesn't go top to bottom, but only half way... I'm not sure whether all that is visible to anyone but me, but I think their unfinished natures sort of appealing. . . oh well.
...
0 comments:
Post a Comment