Daily Fiber… Addiction of a Healthy Kind

A discussion on the addictive nature of working with fiber, particularly in the spinning of fiber into yarn, led to the following observation on my part.

Addiction is the only way to truly describe it. It starts with an enabler, “Just give it a try. It won’t hurt. You will like it.” Then moves to where we are looking for suppliers, and then if allowable, we begin to process our own from start to finish. Yes, certainly an addiction.

There really is something wonderfully addictive about working with fiber, wool in particular. When the process begins with a fleece fresh from the sheep and ends with a sweater, one can’t help but feel connected not just to the world we live in today, but the world of yesterday. The feelings generated are hard to describe, but they are so rich and nuanced that indeed we beg for more.

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Dust Bunnies and Daily Fiber

As an avid spinner of yarn, the woolly kind rather than the literary kind, I have become a magnet for dust bunnies, so much so that they no longer live only under the bed but float around me as I make my way though my day. No amount of housekeeping stays ahead of their reproduction.

When pondering these little bunnies, some made from really bunny fur that follows me in from the rabbit shed, I began to realize they are much like the pithy entries in my blog – random in nature and forming out of the fiber of my life. As I pondered their existence, I realized that they truly were representative of a subculture of my life. They are the children of the fiber that surrounds me and while they do not share in the greatness of their progenitors, they have a value of their own.

Pithyponderings began as a place where my random thoughts were shared. Pithyhistory began as a place where my love of history, particularly diplomatic history could be shared. Rather than creating a third blog on fiber arts and the dust bunnies the pursuit creates, I have decided to establish a category in this blog for such random posts – Dust Bunnies and Daily Fiber.

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Pain Sucks, Life Doesn’t

Pain sucks, but life doesn’t. Whether it is physical or emotional, sometimes it is easy to forget that it is pain not life to which we want an end.

Chronic physical pain can lead to emotional pain and can be compounded by the pains of loss and loneliness. A bad day can turn into a bad week, then a bad month becomes a bad year. As with most creatures, the pain causes us to withdraw from those who seem unable to understand or assist. Caring people seem too busy or seem too happy to be bothered with the task of giving us a lift. Unlike the temporary pain most people experience, chronic pain never leaves. Sometimes it can diminish and give us a rare glimpse of relief, but then it can flare back up worse than ever. Some chronic pain sufferers face an ever shifting collection of pain that causes even the closest of loved ones to become frustrated.

Pain can seem all consuming and extremely defeating. Pain sucks, but life, despite the pain, contains joy and beauty. The dark lenses of pain may dim the light, but they do not eradicate it or cease it to exist. Daily life for people in pain requires a constant effort to see past the dark lenses, to see the light. Their efforts are helped when a loved one takes the time to lift the window shades and let in greater light.

As busy as we may be, as frustrated as we might get, we must work to lift the shades and bring in the light. Sometimes it is all that prevents the misery of pain from becoming the misery of life.

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Saith Me… Progress

Progress comes when you focus on your successes while keeping an eye on what still needs to be changed.

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Saith Me… No Win Situation

My desire to avoid swallowing due to the pain it induces is causing me to choke on my own saliva which in turn causes me great pain. A no win situation that proves the point that putting off difficult things until later only makes them worse.

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Saith Me… Holiday Cookies

I really must learn more self-discipline when making cookies. There is only so much butter/shortening and sugar a person can eat at one time. Four different flavors of cookies; beaters and spatulas need children and hubbies to lick clean.

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Saith Me… Combating Fear

There is always something that can make us afraid whether it is a someone or a something. Therefore, each day we must choose to combat fear rather than allow it control over us.

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A Peaceful Thanksgiving Day

Embracing something new this year for Thanksgiving. Guilt free, stress free time with my husband.

When we were first married, the holidays were very stressful. Then the kids came and matters became much worse. Fibromyalgia undermined the holidays, especially Thanksgiving in those years when the kids were small and we did not know what caused my intense bouts of pain and fatigue. We did, however, know that participating in a game of holiday grandparent tug-of-war made me ill.

Eventually, the holidays became a time where my small family chose to stay home. Our door was always open, to family and friends alike. I would bake and cook and fill the table until it groaned. A few times friends joined us at that table, but most often it was just our small family of four.

After a very tough year of loss and a year when diagnosis finally explained my ill health, I asked my son to take over the Thanksgiving preparations. He was still a youth of twelve but he loved the challenge. From then on, Thanksgiving was his day.

Thanksgiving in my youth was all about the extended family and the food. Thanksgiving as a young wife and young mother was stressful. I tried my hardest counter the negativity of extended family contention. I learned that in a big family, the craziness is just part of the holiday tradition, but in a very small family, the craziness is unhealthy.

Year by year all our family shrank in size as age and illness took their toll. But with loss came the realization that the contention was gone as well.

We knew it would be awhile before our family would grow again. Knowing that the future would bring new members to our family caused us to ponder how to make the holidays different for the next generation.

These last few years found us carving out blissful memories as we carved the turkey. The holiday season became one of giving, of seeking others for whom we could share our bounty. Our table groaned less under the weight of food, but rather, gifts of food found their way to other tables.

Each holiday season, beginning with Thanksgiving, my children would focus on the gifts they could share with others outside our home. My son embraced the task of giving bread and jelly. My daughter crafted gifts of yarn and fabric. Baking and needlework filled our time and filled our hearts as our simple gifts brought smiles to others. The holidays were still stressful and fatigue was still a problem for me, but now the stress revolved around helping my children learn the value of giving thanks by giving of themselves.

My kids are not in the position to come home this year. They are both embracing their chosen paths, and I am immensely grateful for the maturity in which they traverse this stage of life. I am also grateful that during the years of teaching them to give of themselves, I have learned to share them with others.

As I reflect on the holidays of the past, I embrace the notion that for a time, maybe just a short time, my husband and I can enjoy Thanksgiving Day as a couple, not so young, but without any guilt or pressure. What to some might seem sad, the two of us alone on Thanksgiving Day, is the very thing for which I am most grateful this year.

I am filled with joy knowing that this year the gift I have given to others is my children and that my children can enjoy this time unfettered by guilt, sorrow, jealousy, and contention, at least not from me.

I am also filled with peace on this Thanksgiving Day; a peace emanating from the presence of good company, a bountiful pantry, and love.

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