I haven’t posted on this blog for a while, yet people keep checking in. That is a compliment and a testament of faith that I will one day write here again. You may not mean it to be such, but that is how I perceive it, so thank you. It’s been a long month or so, and at times I considered just shutting this down. I could no longer remember my purpose for writing it. My mother has been seriously ill, and that has caused me to rethink my life and my stance toward everything I do. I suppose it’s my own mortality that I’ve been mired in thinking about. I mean, shouldn’t my life be worth something to someone besides myself? What is my purpose, and do I think I’ll achieve anything in what’s left of it? By achieve I don’t mean money, although I’d be really happy to not always be counting my last dollar until payday. I mean surely I should be pursuing one of the many interests I’ve accrued in my lifetime and be getting really good at doing whatever it is. I’ve come to believe that teaching is not what I’m especially good at anymore, since I moved to the middle school level. My students are learning what the powers-that-be have determined they need to know, and although it leaves me less than enthused, I’m doing my job, and overall, I like the kids. I could live with that, if I had something else to do that makes me feel satisfied. I just need something to do that I am passionate about that isn’t work.
For a while now I’ve been making a list of what my friends and acquaintances are passionate about, or at least what they do when they aren’t working. I’m impressed by their dedication and accomplishment and wonder what sustains me in that way. I take lots of photos and they are on Flickr, but none are ever printed or shared in any other way. I write occasionally, but obviously not all that much, as this blog can attest. Maybe this is a transitional time. For a long time I was so excited about my work and reading and studying and writing about it, that took all my focus. I identified myself with that. Now, not so much. Along the way there have been other things I’ve enjoyed doing or wanted to learn to do, but my work took precedence. The main thing I do now is go out to the Sacramento River and take pictures of the sunset. I walk as far as there is to walk, and after the show is over I go home. My iPhoto is full of beautiful sunsets.
I’m mired in clutter at home, and I think maybe that’s the root of my stuckness. In Vicki White’s feng-shui blog she says “clutter holds your dreams.” Maybe that’s my unmotivator. All the books and paper piled up around here. The fabric, oh so much fabric. It’s so beautiful and even though I haven’t quilted in 18 years, I can’t let go of it all. I was really good at quilting, and letting the fabric go is saying I won’t do it again. The textiles I bought in Laos? I love to travel, and that was my last trip. In 2003. I have no place to display it, and yet. The books are another accumulation I hang on to. One bookcase is full of children’s books, another with young adult books. Hundreds of them. There are lots of novels all over, upstairs and down. I have one shelf of feng shui and home decorating books, teacher books, photography and craft books, and three large magazine containers full of Sun Magazine. How do I let go of those? Oh, it makes me tired to even think about it. Isn’t that a symptom of my clutter holding my dreams? How do I have the energy to dream, to follow (or find) my passions if I’m worn out just by thinking about all my stuff?
Okay. Having written that I guess I see how clutter is holding my dreams. Maybe I have found a new purpose for this blog, as well. I think I’ll commit to posting here every week at a minimum and see what evolves. Hopefully it will be me.