Gone With the Mail

One of the swap blocks I made got into the mail and it wasn't until I returned home that I realized there was no photo of it, which was a bummer for me. Then I got concerned about writing my feelings and wondered why I needed to be positive when I wasn't feeling all that great about it.

It was interesting to see how forgetting to take the photo let the air out of my creative efforts. I started back at my work, and found myself so self-critical that I began to make small mistakes, turning to my seam ripper over and over. And of course, even that tore into my soul. How silly. How really silly.

The next block I made was the BSA Churn Dash in 2 colors of pink with white. It was ok and yet, I wanted to switch the pinks and see if it turned out better. Its a pattern I've used before and this one called for two colors.

The second one seemed to pop more and brought back a bit more confidence. I'll send both blocks to my swap partner because I just have no use for pink in a block at this time and cannot imagine it for the future. This way, she can chose which one works better for her needs.

I wondered how and why not taking one photo sent me down. Maybe it was something else. It is raining outside and cold. Weather has been building to colder temps and my body feels it. And it is after a birthday. Some folks say that happens too.

Whatever it was, my feelings were real. I think that our culture wants us to label any sort of distress or depression or sadness as being worse of a situation than if you broke a bone or had the flu. Visible illnesses, or accidents are ok where this sadness or disappointment I am feeling is invisible and almost not ok to experience.

There are more advancements being made to recognize the hidden disabilities....dis meaning taking away, putting down...and of course add that to the word ability and whatever a person has that is not the normal functioning level is considered less than.

I watched Dancing with the Stars tonight and one of the latest episodes has a contestant who lost an arm and a leg in the Iraq war. Oh how he is a hero when he gets out and dances, pushing his limits! Yet in last week's episode, the prosthetic arm hurt him and in his frustration, he tore it off and tossed it aside. That dance had to be recreated; he got high praise from the judges and audience. We may never see his daily struggles after the season ends and he is out of the spotlight, in a dark room at night and all alone again. The public, our culture, doesn't want to know that part of a hero's life. We do not look, do not see any brokenness in others. 

Nor do I want to see this part of my life. I want every day to be positive, to be filled with joy, laughter and high productivity. And when it is not, then I feel obligated to find something good to say or at least not write about feeling down. Something simple that goes wrong or is unplanned just gets moved to high trauma drama. Jeeze! That's just so out of balance, yet it is my trauma drama.

 One of my Gramma Anna's favorite songs was by John Denver, who was a hero too; a humanitarian, an overachieving artist & entertainer, and yet struggled personally with relationship issues, addictions, arrests, and endless court cases. I find myself humming it tonight, remembering the music and all the good he did in his life through political activism. 

"I'd like to say I've been fine, and I do; but we both know the truth is hard to come by, and if I told the truth, that's not quite true. Some days are diamonds, some days are stones. Sometimes the hard times won't leave me alone. Sometimes a cold wind blows a chill in my bones. Some days are diamonds, some days are stones..."

Some Days Are Diamonds (You Tube link to the song)