Emoting about Emotions: SofC Saturday

I was reluctant to even start writing about this prompt. It’s a sensitive subject for me. Maybe it’s because I emote. I emote with feeling–with emotion. However, I’m not the only one who does it. Yet, there are many times when some of the people around me act as if I’m the only one that does. Sometimes, the people who most seem to go over the deep end about my emoting are the ones I’d just as soon avoid when something strikes them as significant.

The thing about my emotions is they are reactive. Something happens, I react, and then I move rather quickly into thinking mode. I come up with potential solutions or possibilities. I calm down. I don’t carry things with me for very long–at least, not in general. There is no one who wants to solve the dilemmas that brought about that emoting more than I do. I would prefer to have fewer feelings or to at least experience them less intensely.

I try to save the negative emoting for things that are important–people being disrespectful or demanding, for example. I am frustrated by people who call me emotional at the times when I am standing up for myself. Because the reality is, most of the time, I go along with things. I adjust, I adapt, I go with the flow. Sometimes, I do those things even after I’ve emoted a little about how I would appreciate some appreciation. Unfortunately, it seems the more I go with the flow, the more disrespect I encounter.

Not too many people complain about the positive emoting I do. Well, that’s not entirely true. People often appreciate my enthusiasm, my sense of humor, my optimistic attitude. But I think what the real “problem” is that I’m a little intense. When I’m enthusiastic, it’s contagious–usually. And if you feel like joining in, it takes a lot of energy. This isn’t always too much of a problem when the emoting is positive, but I think that maybe when it’s negative, some people are a little intimidated. Maybe, it’s a little scary. (Hopefully, not as scary as the photo on the right.)

Unfortunately, the times when I’m negatively emoting are the times when I most need people on my side. And well, you can imagine how well that goes. But after writing this post this morning, something happened this afternoon that kind of got me going. But I walked away. Totally. I mapped out how I would handle it. I emoted to myself. I didn’t bottle it up so much. I allowed myself to feel the things. I just didn’t share the feelings. And a moment came when I could let it go. I may not even emote to anyone else. I know that the person who triggered the feelings didn’t do it intentionally. By giving myself private emoting time, I came to a new discovery. Also, it helps knowing that this person always has my best interests at heart. Which is more than I can say about some of the other things that sometimes trigger my feelings.

Still, I’m trying to focus on the positive things, and bring all the feelings–the negative and the positive–into a better balance, to conserve my energy for the things that matter more than these moments of unexpected emoting.

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This is part of a weekly prompt from: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/06/27/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-2814/

Eleven Things I’ve Learned from the 31-Day Blog Challenge

1. You never know what you can do until you try.

The first year anniversary of my first post is this weekend, and the most posts I had ever done in a month prior to now was ten. I kept a twice a week publishing schedule for five months before dropping off in April and then disappearing for four months. When I came back in September, I wasn’t sure about what kind of schedule I wanted to keep. I just knew it was time to jump back in. The invitation for the 31-day blog challenge came at the right time, and I decided that it was just the push I needed. Even though I got a little behind, especially in the last week, I successfully posted 31 times! If I hadn’t tried the challenge, I never would have found out what I was capable of.

2. Once I committed to my intention to write more, I actually wrote more.

This isn’t really rocket science, and it isn’t that big a surprise, but the reality is that once I know I need to write, and I actually START writing, it becomes easier to keep writing. By following the intention to sit down and blog regularly, it was easier than I thought. The commitment kept me motivated. The limited time of the challenge (31 days) made it seem possible. It wasn’t forever, it was 31 days. And I could do it if I set up ways to keep my attention focused on it.

3. Having a specific number of posts to do in a specific amount of time makes a difference.

You may think that I have already learned this from other endeavors in my life, but it’s always amazing to me how often, some ideas have to be learned again and again. But when I make specific intentions about what I’m going to do and when I’m going to do it, I have a higher rate of success. Go figure!

4. It’s easier to follow through on an intention with a system of social support.

Knowing other people are also working on the same thing is powerful. Even more powerful is the fact that when like-minded people support each other, the synergy exceeds. I know beyond a doubt that trying to carry out an intention that I keep secret is going to be much harder than it needs to be, and that I am setting myself up to fail. Telling other people about my plans and intentions makes it more likely that I will stick to them.

5. The more posts I write, the more ideas I get.

I found this particularly interesting. I had a few drafts in reserve when I started the challenge. And I wondered if I would have trouble coming up with ideas to write about. But the more I wrote, the more I ideas I had. I now have more pieces waiting in line than before I started, and several more ideas that I’ve got jotted down to do. Writing definitely begets writing.

6. The more I write, the more I learn about myself.

I have discovered that I can explore my own thought process, that I can make discoveries about what’s going on inside this brain. That I am becoming more willing to take risks and try new things, especially when it comes to blog posts. Following up on #2 above, I also discovered that I am now ready to tackle other short-term challenges. I’m participating in a quilt-along in November and December. If I could focus on this challenge and complete it, I can choose another that appeals to me. I choose challenges that are specifically focused on things I’ve been wanting to do, and the results are powerful.

7. Maybe the most significant discovery, is that I can be too “practical.”

Fear of failure is a crazy reason to lower the bar on what I want from life. To limit myself because of potential disappointment keeps me locked in a place where I will always have and be less than I could be. I the dreams and ideas I have for my life. In spite of the fact that I keep the bar too low as a result. I talk myself out of things before I even start. The spill-over effect of succeeding at a challenge leads to other possibilities beyond I thought was possible. For example, I just completed my first entry in a Trifecta Writing Challenge.

8. Taking time for me and what I enjoy energizes me.

It may seem counterintuitive, but being busy can actually be energizing IF the activity is based on things I want to be doing. Most of my busyness before was based on the wrong things, and that’s what wore me out. I need to focus on what will nourish me, what accomplishes the things I want, or simply finding what it is that I want to accomplish. Having an intention like this one has made me feel more alive, more tuned in to the people and events around me.

9. Perseverance really is the key.

I can do what I set out to do if I persevere. Making intentions and setting up ways to keep focused on them has made a huge difference for me. When things don’t work out, it’s much easier to pick up and start again because a system for accomplishing the intention is already in place. This was particularly significant both for the blog challenge (when I went four days without writing a post), and for starting up an exercise routine. In both cases, I had several strategies in place to keep my focus going, so there was no need to throw up my hands in frustration. I just could go back to the plan.

10. The reactions of my audience rarely matches my expectations.

I have been surprised over the last month about which posts get people excited and which ones tend to fall a little flat. Of course, in the blog world, timing is significant. No one can follow all the blog posts that show up on their readers. By the same token, blogs are ongoing. So you never know when someone is going to go back to earlier posts.

11. Blogging is now something I pay attention to.

I am constantly surprised by new ideas, new things I want to try. I’m paying attention to blogging in a way I never did before. All kinds of ideas emerge: I take notes, I try things, I have fun. Now that I’m focused on it, it flows more often than not. Sure, it’s early in this process, but I am finding that the time spent on the blog is making a big difference in the way I approach life. It’s a great tool for exploration and for boosting my willingness to try new things. Who knows, I may be up for another blog challenge one of these days.  .

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600 Days to 60

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Several months back, I discovered a blog, 400 Days to 40. Even though I found the blog rather late in her 400 days, it got me to thinking that I might like to try something similar for my next milestone. So I calculated (and recalculated) to find the magical day on which I would launch my new blog, 600 days to 60.

When I first calculated the start date for this new blog, I was keeping a pretty good schedule with Container Chronicles. Until April, when things slowed down, and then lay dormant for four months. This month, I’ve finally resurrected the thing, but I think I need to stick with one blog for now and see how it goes. Also, I haven’t found exactly the right focus for this blog yet. I wander around, and I’ve decided that it’s ok to do that. After all, it is about the journey and not the destination. This blog can be a container for all kinds of ideas and explorations. So it seems to make sense to have multiple threads in just one blog and see where it goes from here.

I’ve decided that I’m not looking at this 600 days to 60 as a count-down, but rather a count-up! I want to think of these next 600 days as a journey to find the best version of me there is to find. It will be a process of excavation and checking the foundation, and finding new ways to create and decorate. It will be a time of new keywords and of intentions that challenge and revitalize me. A time of decluttering, revisioning, and finding clarity. My intention is that this journey allows me to find what is important and discard the rest as I move forward toward a life full of vibrant possibility.

The moment is now. 600 days to 60!

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Keyword: Fun (Compliments of my daughter, Kate)

The Non-Quilting Retreat

(Photo credit: calebcherry)

Instead of a quilting retreat last Thursday and Friday, I reframed it into a textbook retreat, which took place Sunday and yesterday. You can read about what led to that decision in the posts listed below, but as a result of that shift, I rediscovered that it wasn’t actually quilting that was missing from my life as much as the experiences of play and fun, regardless of the forms they take. My life has become so crowded with tasks that I forgot to just enjoy the small moments of life. In fact, I didn’t seem to recognize small moments anymore.

Luckily, January was the beginning of my intention to set aside ten small moments a day to work with the exercises of Farther to Go! One day, in my writing, I remembered how I used to make “play” a daily practice, and even kept a journal to track the fun things I did. This memory helped me let go of the need to quilt “no matter what” and just open myself to the experience of quilting as an enjoyable hobby. If Farther to Go! can make a difference in ten minutes a day, so can ten minutes of opening myself to even small pockets of fun. But I didn’t make that connection until I packed away the sewing machine and let the small moments just be. I needed to stop planning everything.

Pinwheel Quilt (Photo credit: jenniferworthen)

By letting go of the need to quilt no matter what, I reopened myself to experience the fun and exploration that intrigued me when I first became interested in the craft. So when I needed a little break on the second day of my textbook retreat, I knew instinctively what I wanted to do. I sent my daughter a Facebook message with a few quilt designs to get her opinion of them. She and I are halfway around the world from each other, but we have conversations on Facebook. Sometimes, the conversations aren’t continuous. One or the other of us puts something out there, and then the other answers the next time she is online.

For those of you who don’t know, my daughter, Kate is the youngest of my four children and she is the mother of Mr. Logan, the “not so little” guy you see at the top of the blog. When I gave Logan his quilt last summer, Kate asked me when she would be getting hers. Funny story!

The Little Quilt that Could

Several years ago, Kate showed some interest in having me make her a quilt. She had colors in mind, and I began collecting fabrics in pinks, greens, blues, and purples. Occasionally, I would see a possible pattern. But then, as now, I never had much time for quilting. In fact, when I was making Logan’s quilt two years ago, I actually found myself wondering whether Kate was still interested in having me make her a quilt. If so, would she even want the fabrics I had started collecting.

Well, last night happened to be one of those times when Kate and I were able to carry on a conversation for a bit. It was–dare I say it–FUN! She didn’t really care for the first images I sent her, but she gave me some good clues. For example, while I knew she didn’t want a pattern that was as “random” as the one I used for Logan’s quilt, one of the images I sent her was “too” traditional. That helped narrow the field.

Something with structure, but not too traditional. And something that when I get to it, I would enjoy making it. I’ve been wanting to play around with log cabin blocks. Maybe that would work. So I sent her some in pink blocks–not exactly like the ones shown here. Actually, I didn’t ask her about the “wonky” aspect, but my sense is she would like the straight line kind. Here is some of the conversation that followed:

wonky log cabin (Photo credit: MissMessie)

ME: ok, here’s another. If I did this log cabin pattern, I would incorporate purple, green, and blue as well, unless you want just pinks.

K: If you want to roll with that you can. And if you do, you should do each block a separate color.

ME: ok 🙂

K: or whatever you want 😛

ME: When I start playing with some blocks, I’ll send you pictures and you can tell me which you like best 🙂  It will be a while, but I like to at least think about quilting, and yours is the next big project I want to do

K: Do an all blue one, and one that includes all four colors.

ME: ok 🙂 that will be fun:

K: keyword: fun. don’t make it a job! if it’s a present for my 30th birthday so be it.

ME: 30th birthday present! Crap! I only have 4 years! LOL

Full Circle

Kate’s quilt won’t happen soon, but now when I do have some time for quilting, I have a pattern and a motivation. Even though I have to wait to cut and sew, I’m excited about it. Obviously, the colors are still a go. Best of all, I’m already having fun: the chat with my daughter, thinking about variations on the log cabin theme, and looking at the colors in my fabric stash. It feels so much better than those days when I was planning to quilt no matter what. And she’s got me focusing on the right keywords.

Thanks, Kate! And maybe you won’t have to wait until your 30th birthday for the quilt. But no promises. The keyword is fun!

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Listmaking: A Path to the Clearing

Remember this? It’s a photo I used in last Tuesday’s post, when I wrote about my decision to take responsibility for my over-crowded schedule. I would use my four-week semester break and figure out a way to tackle my to-do list. I chose clearing as my winter keyword–I was beginning to gain a sense of calm as I mapped out a plan for these four weeks.

I even declared a 30-day moratorium on saying yes to any new responsibilities in an effort to get a handle on my schedule. I am ready to embrace a more intentional mode of living, but I am finally getting to know myself as I really am. If there is space in my calendar–or even the illusion of space on my calendar, I’ll get sucked in by every interesting idea that comes along. So the moratorium, along with my winter keyword of clearing is providing just the right focus for my process. I envision three steps that will lead me to the clearing.

1. Make a list of all the tasks that I need to complete.
2. Use the available containers of time to assign tasks appropriately.
3. Follow the schedule.

Making the List

The Master List

I won’t lie to you. Making a list that includes all the projects and tasks I have committed myself to is a rather immense task all on its own. Luckily, I had a head start. Over the last few weeks, I’d been working on breaking down big tasks and writing them in my calendar to do on a particular day, even if not at a particular time of that day. So to make the master list, I just gathered up all the calendar pages, along with my notebooks where I’d periodically make running lists to help clear my head of all the stuff swimming around. When I got done, I had the Master List shown here..

It still seemed overwhelming, and it’s not even complete. Many of the projects on that page haven’t been broken down into manageable steps yet. So there was still lots of work to do, but at least I felt as if the enormity of the project was “contained” on that sheet of paper. I could use it to move to the next step, Or so I thought.

Assigning Time Slots

My recent Weekly Calendar pages

My approach to time is to arrange tasks and activities into blocks of time (containers). The main point of this approach is to avoid stuffing the container too full. Unfortunately, I seem to have this idea that as long as there is even a tiny pocket of space on the paper, something else can fit there. Somehow, my brain hasn’t mastered the concept that open space on the paper is not the same as available time in the day. The amount of space on the page cannot accurately represent the amount of time in the day. Unless I actually arrange the space on the page in pre-measured time increments. Which leads me to a related problem.

A related problem–as you can see, is that while I pack a mean suitcase, my packing of time slots is not as efficient. I don’t think about time in a linear way. I mean, I get that there are just so many hours in a day. And I really do get that each task takes a certain amount of time, which often can be estimated with some degree of accuracy.

Discoveries on the Path

At this point, in the process, I had two realizations.

First, I need to figure out a better way to “package” time, so that I don’t have so much free-floating time on my planning sheets. I need smaller containers with which to plan. (This concept relates to the fact that I’m better with small suitcases than large ones–the illusion that the larger space is significantly larger in my mind than it is in the physical world.

Second, it is abundantly clear that I have to be realistic about what can be accomplished in this four-week break. I didn’t get to this point overnight, and I’m certainly not going to dig out of it on some kind of magical time schedule. I need to prioritize the projects and tasks to determine where to focus my time and energy. I also need to remember that this IS supposed to be a break and to allow some time for some R&R. I will focus on during the break, and which will have to be scheduled in at a later time. And of course, those scheduled later will be handled at a slower pace, because the semester will be back in full swing.

Following the Schedule

This is where things really fell apart. Actually, this step was destined for disaster from the get go. The tasks that hadn’t been broken down tended to stay on the list undone. Then they got moved to another list, where they still remained undone. Don’t get me wrong, things were getting done, but I was spending too much time moving things from one list to another, time that could be used more productively. For one, tasks needed to be more clearly delineated. For another, I had fallen prey to the mistaken belief that if I worked hard on this plan thing, it would work. I had conveniently forgotten that many things are beyond my control.

Last week, some major challenges threatened to upset my (mostly) well-designed plan. Not one glitch, not two, but several of them came at me in rapid succession. While the clearing keyword makes sense, I found that it was too delicately balanced on the mountain of tasks. I had taken a few deep breaths and began to believe that i had a plan, but it didn’t take much time with the reality of those glitches to throw me into a state of near inertia. Projects that I thought I had handled suddenly became more complex, with problems buried in each step. Something had to give.

Adjusting the Plan

Lovely Beans, a llocal coffee shop

On Thursday, I was still struggling to find some momentum. I needed a change of scenery to regroup. I needed to make some adjustments to the plan. The local coffee shop seemed to be the perfect solution. I grabbed a secret weapon that has proved useful in the past–index cards!

The time at Lovely Beans didn’t solve all my problems, but it allowed me to see things from a different perspective. I am now experimenting with a way of using the index cards to help me prioritize the tasks and build a more realistic path to that clearing. More details will follow.

In the meantime, we are headed to a wedding this week. It’s not THAT far away, but we decided to include an overnight as part of it and have a little R&R. Next week, I’ll post the dates of my upcoming do-it-myself quilting retreat.

Seasonal Containers

Childhood in Michigan

I loved the four seasons, and the way they provided a way of containerizing time. Each season had its own schedule and events. Easter ushered in spring time and led to anticipation of my birthday and the end of the school year. We could start spending more time riding bikes and playing croquet in the yard. Summer brought camping trips, swimming, badminton games, and bike rides. We spent more time outside than in, and the days just flowed one to another with time spent with friends in the neighborhood.

Four Seasons – Fenner Nature Center (Photo credit: Aunt Owwee)

In the fall, the new school year was almost exciting, especially when it was accompanied by the slow-motion fireworks of the reds, golds, and yellows of the leaves as they changed color and drifted to the ground. The peak of autumn color is breathtaking, and the smell of autumn is amazing. The plum tree in our backyard would give up the rest of its fruit, and Halloween was just around the corner. The season concluded with Thanksgiving and pumpkin pies, before winter took up residence.

While Winter is my least favorite season, there was always something magical about the first snowfall. I also liked Christmas music and going shopping with my sister to buy little gifts for our parents and siblings. And who could argue with Christmas vacation! The tough part of winter showed up right after the first of the year. Going back to school wasn’t nearly as interesting as it had been in September. The days were cold, and sunshine didn’t stay around very long. The evenings were dark. Snow’s novelty had worn off; the only good that came of it now was the chance of a snow day. Luckily, most winters, that wish would be granted at least once.

Seasons of Adulthood

As I started my own family, the seasons continued in much the same way, the ebb and flow of activity meshing with the way I remembered things from childhood. Even though I worked in the summer instead of spending my days outdoors, I still enjoyed the daylight that extended far into the evening. Even though I had a job that often required me to work on holidays like Easter and Christmas, we found ways to modify our family celebrations to honor the contents of each season.

As the children started leaving the nest, the academic calendar still guided my experience of the season, first as I completed my B.A. as my daughter finished high school, and then during my time at graduate school. The seasons and the academic year coincided–the dreary winter days coming at the very time when focus and purpose seemed to be at their lowest. Autumn and spring were once again the friendliest seasons.

My first Christmas in Taiwan

Two things changed when I came to Taiwan, but they were only external changes. First, the academic year is different. A case in point: here it is January 11, and this week’s tasks include grading final exams and posting grades on the computer system. In other words, classes and finals are over, and winter break has begun. I know this sounds weird to my colleagues in the States. A couple of the differences: Our semesters are 18 weeks long. We don’t have a break at Thanksgiving or even Christmas Day–as evidenced by the picture on the left. We do get New Year’s Day off, but we made up the extra Monday that came with it by teaching on Monday of exam week.

The second thing is the difference in the physical characteristics of the seasons. My students talk about Taiwan’s four seasons, but they don’t have snow. Their winter is cold (but not as cold as many parts of the US), often with days and days of rain. Spring is beautiful, sunny and pleasant. Summer is hot, hot, and hot with very high humidity. Luckily, I visit my family each summer back in the States. It takes until mid-October, though, for the temperatures to be reasonable. Classroom temperatures during September can be rather unpleasant. But once mid-October comes, it’s hard to argue with the great weather. And there are days of sweater weather even in December.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about seasonal containers. Vacations, holidays, the natural ebb and flow of the seasons, and what that means to my schedule. And unfortunately, I have to confess that the seasons and other seasonal breaks don’t make much of a difference in my life. My busyness has taken away my sense of the seasons as containers for specific types of activities. The days have become a list of tasks that spill over into the next day, and the next day, and the next week, the next month, the next season, the next year. Unfortunately, I got to the point where I saw no end in sight.

While others are planning activities and even trips for the CNY (Chinese New Year) before the next 18-week semester begins, I am trying to figure out how to catch up on the multitude of tasks and responsibilities that I have added to my schedule, often without thinking things through. It’s second nature for me to take on every project that comes to me. Hence the moratorium of December 28 was so essential for me if I am going to reclaim any sense of balance in my life.

In the days ahead, I’m going to be creating containers of time and space to begin clearing my schedule and opening my life to the cyclical nature of the seasons. Calendars, to-do lists, index cards, grids with tasks arranged by time, by category, by priority are the tools I am exploring as I try to see my way clear to a more considered life. Stay tuned as I find a new way to create space for myself and begin to appreciate the seasons again.

The One that Won’t Let Go

Party hats at dawn (Photo credit: Derek John Lee)

Today I publish the 20th post for Container Chronicles. That means I have been blogging for ten weeks, just over two months. People suggested for a long time that I start a blog, but I kept dragging my feet. Partly, I couldn’t decide what to write about. I had lots of requests for stories about my time here in Taiwan, but that wasn’t a topic that pulled me to the keyboard. Maybe someday I’ll do a small series as part of this blog, but my own struggle with sorting out my life and becoming more intentional about what I want to do is a bigger draw than a travelogue–at least for now.

I decided on Container Chronicles about three months before I launched it. During that time, I thought about the blog, I talked about the blog, but I did very little to actually start blogging. It wasn’t exactly perfectionism that kept me from it, but I did have a fear of sorts that it wouldn’t turn out like I imagined it. Which is crazy in many ways, because if I had stayed with that line of thinking, I’d still be thinking about it and I wouldn’t be publishing this 20th post. Sometimes, it helps me to make an external commitment, so I’m not just accountable to myself. So I came up with a gimmick. I gave the “promise” of a launch as a birthday gift to a long-time friend who had been pushing me to blog. On October 9, her birthday, I sent her an email that announced my intention to launch the blog in honor of her birthday. The announcement gave October 31 as the launch date. I missed by a couple of days, but it didn’t matter because my blog was real! I felt such a sense of accomplishment! Seeing the actual blog post as others saw it was amazing. I got excited updating my stats and seeing how many people visited my blog. I wanted that feeling to keep going.

CSS Bar Charts (Photo credit: alykat)

Once I launched, I was determined to maintain a schedule. Twice a week seemed like a good starting point. Not too often, but often enough that it wouldn’t drift too far from my consciousness. I made a list of potential topics along with a schedule for posting them. I could start writing, schedule them to post, and move on to the next ones, keeping ahead of the schedule a bit. It was a good plan on paper, but in reality I struggle to meet the midnight posting deadline almost every time. It felt a little stressful, but I knew it was something I wanted to do, but every Tuesday and Friday, I found myself racing the clock to get it done. But seeing my “body of work” grow each week made it all worthwhile. Tuesdays and Fridays became “blog nights” in my world. I liked this new part of my world.

Then something strange happened.  People tried to help me. Not just the expected comments, like “Kudos for getting started.” Or,  “Wow, you’ve done this for how long? It looks great!” But a lot of unexpected ones as well. “Why are you adding something else to your schedule?” Or, “You do know that it’s OK if you skip a post or two, don’t you?” Or, “Maybe you shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself.” I felt like I had to defend my blog and my decision to spend time on it. Sure, maybe I needed to figure out a way to not be up against the deadline as often, but even that didn’t bother me that much. But it was bothering a lot of other people on my behalf.

To be honest, I was baffled by that response. After all, when I was struggling with how to make time for quilting, no one tried to talk me out of it. I had a lot of support to keep at it, even though I was stressed by my inability to quilt regularly. Luckily, my friend Joycelyn* heard me when I was pushing too hard to make quilting fit into a life already overflowing with responsibility. Even though I resisted at first, she helped me see clear to changing my attitude toward quilting (and therefore helping me to have SOME rather than no quilting in my life). Joycelyn also understood the satisfaction I was getting from blogging and commitment to continue it. But my puzzlement over the concerns of others was still baffling.

my new table and computer (Photo credit: slackware)

Then it dawned on me. If someone watches (or imagines watching) me while I’m working on my blog, it looks no different than when I’m grading papers online, or when I’m doing an editing job, or when I’m working on the textbook project, or when I’m answering student emails, or working on any of the other multitude of tasks that I do at my computer. In fact, if someone took a picture of me doing each of those activities, and then put those pictures side by side in a row, it might be difficult to see any difference, particularly if they are taken from the back. I like to think if the pictures were taken from the front, there would be more a glint in my eye as I worked on the blog. From the back, however. these four pictures would likely look the same. On the other hand, if someone saw me at the cutting table or at my sewing machine, they could clearly see the difference. The quilting activities would appear to be creative and relaxing, even fulfilling, maybe just because they aren’t happening at the computer.

What I know now is that twice a week, I accomplish something tangible. I add two posts to a blog that didn’t exist three months ago. I find that I want to do more. While I will still spend my focused quilting retreats a few times a year, the blog gives me something that quilting isn’t satisfying right now. I am learning as much about process, both in terms of blogging itself as well as what helps me find meaning in the rest of my life. Blogging has become a tool that helps me de-stress, that helps me clear away a lot of mental clutter. In the end, it pushes me to reexamine my life  In the end, it may even open up more quilting time. It can certainly help me decide the purpose on which I want to spend my time. It can help me focus. But for now, it pushes me to finish this post so I can publish by midnight.

*Joycelyn knows well the satisfactions of blogging. Check out one or all.

Nine Paths

Farther to Go!

give me a daisy

An Idea Whose Time Has Not Yet Come. Or . . .

“Some changes look negative on the surface but you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge.” ― Eckhart Tolle

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I wish I could say that the picture on the left is me at my sewing machine. But I can’t. Wikipedia doesn’t have images of me in its database. At least, I don’t think it does. Anyway, it’s not me. I don’t have a sweater that color. And I’ve spent so little time at the sewing machine lately that there is likely no photographic evidence of such an event..

What’s wrong with this picture? If you’ve been following my blog, you know that I love quilting.Yet, in spite of my desire to quilt, something isn’t working. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I do have a few minutes of “discretionary” time, I am always torn between quilting and some deadline or task that is clamoring for my attention. When I do have a few minutes to relax, I pick up things that only take a few minutes. This happens even though I have a relatively dedicated sewing and cutting area.

I had also noticed a few potentially bad signs. For example, the last time I sat down to sew, I only completed a couple impatient seams. They didn’t line up quite right. That made me impatient. It had been a few weeks since I had sewn anything, so I couldn’t put my hands on the seam ripper. My somewhat minimalist approach to keeping a sewing area did little to stem the slow tide of teaching and research clutter that often became entwined with my quilting. I began to wonder how–in one year–I had gone from daily work on Mr. Logan’s quilt (see here) to the upcoming semester break with no real prospect for time at the sewing machine or cutting board.

(Photo credit: emily.bluestar)

Maybe it has something to do with the constant visual reminder. For starters, it gives me the mistaken idea that I can quilt anytime. The problem with that situation is that all my other projects are also in my visual radar, but they have more priority. Quilting will lose every time. But more than that, it was a constant reminder that it was losing every time. After all, if I really wanted to quilt, I’d just do it, right? This kind of thinking becomes a little dangerous for me. I began to think the best solution was to pack up the quilting one more time. I could still look at books, play with fabric and patterns, and make plans for when I can make the time to quilt.

Then came the 30 day moratorium for January 2013. When I decided to try that out for the new year, I had already decided to pack up the quilting stuff. But that didn’t stop me from becoming overwhelmed by the other stuff that was still left for me to catch up on and bring closure to before I can pursue the things that interest me the most. For the time being, responsibilities and obligations have become the headliners.While I knew the moratorium was the right thing to do, and that mapping my way out of the avalanche of projects was imperative and worthwhile, I still had a nagging feeling about the quilting. I mean, I do know I can’t do everything, but I forgot one important thing!

Quilt notes (Photo credit: duien)

Life is not black and white!  Most people who know me marvel at my ability to be flexible and to brainstorm lots of options about any given problem. So, why did I limit my choices to having everything out in the open or packing it all up? I finally remembered something from thirty years in my past. I used a responsibility-free weekend to set up my own personal quilting retreat. The boys were visiting their father for the weekend, and I took the weekend off from work. I can’t tell you what project I worked on that weekend. But I cleared the dining room table, and brought out the sewing machine and ironing board, the cutting mats and fabric, and I spent a weekend doing nothing but quilting. It wasn’t just the weekend itself that was great, it was the anticipation leading up to it and preparing for the time when it came.

I can’t tell you why I didn’t continue the tradition. Oh yeah, life probably got in the way again. And at the time, I wasn’t strong enough to identify what I wanted and schedule it in. But now is the time to resurrect that custom. After all, quilting in my life has never been a constant. It has always found its way into my life in specialized containers of time. So I am now planning Quilting Day 2013. It’s the perfect time for a quilting retreat. I have four weeks with no classes. I have worked out a schedule to map out the tasks that need to be done. But most importantly, once I set the retreat dates, there is minimal chance of interference with the plan. The moratorium is in effect. Instead of a couple hours a day that I had hoped for during the semester break, I will take a two-day mini-vacation and spend it playing with color, fabric, and pattern. And in the process, I’ll have a less cluttered work-environment overall.

What started out as a potentially negative decision has brought new options. If I hadn’t been willing to pack up my quilting, I would have continued to encounter the frustration of never getting to the machine. I wouldn’t have rediscovered the alternative of setting up compartments of time that are totally dedicated to quilting as a workable solution to the problem. While some may think this seems like a negative change, I am reminded that a weekend once or twice a year is considerably more time than I get throughout an entire year. I can capitalize on the moratorium, begin to manage the backlog, move my projects forward, and anticipate a creative getaway to energize myself. When the sewing stuff comes out, it will be a visual and tactile picnic. And maybe the start of a new tradition.

The Joy of Index Cards

Ελληνικά: Δελτία για αποδελτίωση και δελτιοθήκη (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Index cards are a special kind of container. There are a limited number of sizes, but an unlimited number of ways to use them. Besides, I just have a thing for index cards. I can’t go into an office supply store without checking out the index cards and attending paraphernalia. I like them lined and unlined; white, pastel, bold, and florescent. I like 4 x 6 and 5 x 7, but I will always have a special affection for the 3 x 5 size. Then there are file boxes in colors and patterns, as well as open containers for filing the little treasures.

As I move into a series of posts about the organization of time, space, and activities, I will be sharing some of the ways I use index cards. But for today, I thought I’d share just a few of the many excuses I have for stocking up on these little gems. And you won’t be surprised when I mention index cards as I go through my organizing and containerizing stories. For example, I use them for:

Hipster PDA. Photo by John Arundel, September 2005. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

1. Note-taking. All purpose note cards for any purpose that comes up throughout the day. I try to always carry a few index cards in my purse or my bag for whenever I need to take notes or give information to others.

2. Daily to-do lists. Using an index card for the list keeps it more manageable (hence my preference for 3 x 5’s).

3. Weekly to-do lists. This challenges me to really focus on what’s important for the week within the space limitation of the card. It contains my activity somewhat. Keeps me from getting too carried away. In theory, anyway.

4. Menu planning. There was a period of time when I used index cards to plan a week’s menu. Each week I created a plan for that week. And after several weeks, I was able to start recycling a card here and there, until I eventually had quite a repertoire to choose from. Saved a lot of headache when thinking about what should we have for dinner. Saved and recycled the shopping lists as well.

5. Shopping lists. The cards work well for companion lists for the meal plans. Also good for other shopping lists. Or errands in general.

6. Project ideas. I like to keep track of ideas for creative projects on cards. One idea to a card allows me to add notes about the project to the card. After the ideas outgrow the index card, the project can be moved to its own file or incubation box. This provides not only incubation time, but provides a source of ideas when I’m not quite sure what I want to do next. It’s fun just to go through the ideas.

7. Research topics. Similar to project ideas, I can keep track of the different ideas I have for research, recording notes about ideas for exploring each one.

8. Organizing Book Chapters. In my current project, there are lots of ideas that have to be determined in terms of layout and which activities are going to be included. By putting the ideas for each section on index cards, I can shuffle things around and consider the most effective arrangement. (Works for organizing notes for research papers as well.)

9. Lesson plans. I like to plan out my syllabus on index cards, one week per card. Topics, assignments, group activities. Then they can be arranged by week, shuffled around, adding notes and details as I go. On the backs of the cards, I can write notes about what worked, what adjustments can be made.

10. Concise journaling. A quick and easy way to keep at least minimal notes about the thoughts and events of the day. Not as a replacement for other journaling practice, but as a helpful way to keep things going when time is short, or when all I have is the stash of note cards.

Watch for more index card fun in the weeks ahead.

Related articles

• Writing Tip: #23 The Notecard System (jakevanderark.com)
• The Versatility of Index Card Outlining (blackanddarknight.wordpress.com)
• Intentions (facilitationflashcards.com)

Cocoons: Then and Now

On cold winter days, I like to curl up with a journal and a steaming cup of tea, to sort through the mental keepsakes I have collected over the years. Even though I can indulge in this pursuit anytime, there is something about an overcast sky that brings out my tendency to turn inward and begin the act I call cocoon building.

Like the caterpillar that spins his cocoon in a particular season, certain events and situations often precipitate my inner work. It could be something specific, like a job loss or leaving grad school; or it could be something more nebulous, like the feeling of losing direction or recovering from a period of depression. Sometimes, I thrash around–literally and figuratively–for quite a while before I begin the cocoon-building process. But it is when I take that step that the healing taking place. Within my cocoon, I can explore the ins and outs of my pain. I emerge stronger, willing to take risks that lead me in new directions, often beyond what I thought possible.

The first time I consciously explored the cocoon idea, as I wrote in Cocoons and Coffee Houses, the process moved me across the country from Seattle back to Michigan. Twenty years later, another cocoon experience would lead me halfway around the world. This time, I was exploring options after leaving graduate school. A ready-made cocoon came in the form of a three month house-sitting stint. With many of our things in storage, I focused my creative energy on cooking and crocheting as I explored job possibilities, while preparing applications, teaching demos, and lesson plans.

While lining up my references, one of them suggested I come to Taiwan to teach for a year or two. While I appreciated the idea, I was quick to discount it, at least in my own mind. It was too crazy. It was too far away. I was too old to live in a foreign country. I had lots of reasons why it couldn’t work. I thanked him and told him I’d think about it.

I had been to Taiwan before, so it wasn’t totally unknown to me, but the idea of leaving my family, my friends, my country–seemed to be overwhelming. Eventually, the moment came when the only thing keeping me from this opportunity was my desire–a STRONG desire–for certainty. I agreed to a phone interview. And then a second one with several committee members. I talked to my family. I updated my passport. My husband and I made plans for me to go for a year to test the waters. I prepared for my new adventure.

Well, this is year four for me, and it’s the second year for my husband. Now it’s time to build a new cocoon. My time here has been filled with projects and activities that I never could have imagined. And while I love many of them, I now fly from one thing to another, with little time to think or create or just be. I need to slow down and think about what I really want; how I want to live my life in the next few years. Become intentional about what I’d like to have happen next in my life, rather than getting up each day and going from one deadline to the next.

This time, my cocoon holds new ideas about how to organize my time, ideas, and space. I feel a pull to move inside, an invitation to stay indoors, think about a way to channel my creative energy into my quilting, and work on a new cocoon. And fix myself a cup of tea.

The drawings in this post are done by Rena Chen. She has a BA in Applied English from Ming Chuan University in Taiwan. She enjoys arts, crafts, movies, and surfing the Internet. She is currently preparing for the government exam for cultural administration and hopes to one day work either in a museum or in a county cultural affairs bureau.   

Related articles

• Stories of the Past: Part 2 (myriad234.wordpress.com)
• Cocoons and Coffee Houses (myriad234.wordpress.com)