In common

You guys have heard me whine and moan as I stressed out about entering my quilts in the show.  I almost don’t post those because other people don’t really talk about it on their blogs and sometimes, I wonder if it’s just me.

Yesterday, I was talking to someone about the stress of it and how I would be working on some final detail about the rules of the show rather than the actual quilt, and things would start to go wrong and they’d avalanche, and I’d stress, and then I’d close the door and try to keep the swearing as quiet as possible so Sydney didn’t hear it.  I don’t know how successful I was at that.  Prob’ly not much.

I know from experience that if I will walk away…just get up and walk away from whatever starts to avalanche, just as the slope gets slippery and frustrating, I come back with a fresh idea and a solution and things go smoothly along.  But, sometimes I can’t.  And, at it’s worst, I threw a box of thread across the room after it fell off a shelf in my crowded, disorganized space and hit me in the head.  That’s the day I told Rob I wasn’t having fun anymore.  And, after that, I stopped worrying about it and I pieced that depression era quilt top.  I walked away and life went on and I stopped stressing about everything being perfect.

Rob was talking to my mentor yesterday about it and she talked about the same feelings when she competed.  How she couldn’t walk away and stop working on it.  How she stressed about perfection until it just wasn’t any fun anymore.  And, she stopped competitive quilting because of it and isn’t a member of a guild anymore.  Because it stopped being fun. 

And, my heart reached out to her, sharing those common feelings.  And, I was feeling bad because I couldn’t walk away, and my Mentor told Rob how lucky I was that I could walk away and piece that depression era top. 

I’m feeling pretty good about that compliment.

Now, it didn’t stop me from laying all three quilts in the floor and doing something to each one last night.  I nudged a bit of space out of the top of a sleeve so the quilt would hang straighter, and Rob crawled around on the floor with a flashlight, finding black threads on the black background that I hadn’t snipped.  I opened up part of the binding on both the silk quilt and the bird quilt because I COULD do better. 

But, it’s not like I was obsessing about it.  I still managed to make a good supper for the family.  And, I cleaned up after it.  But, the rest of the evening, I was futzing with the details until I called it quits and played solitaire til bedtime. 

When I walked the dog this morning, I saw the full moon, shining down so bright.  It gave me the chance to think about what I want from entering my quilts in the show and it’s not winning, like I thought.  It’s about being expansive.  Expanding my horizons, even though it’s uncomfortable.  Doing what I didn’t think I could do. 

Feeling the feelings and working through them.  (But don’t be the box of thread that hits me in the head like Newton’s apple.

Everybody have a great Tuesday.  This afternoon, I’m hanging quilts at the show.  Who knows, maybe I’ll get to hang one of my own. 



lw said...

This is a wonderfully honest post, and I appreciate you sharing. I'm sorry your mentor decided not to show any more. Your approach of do your best, and let it go is the right one.

I think now your show will be more fun than stressful.

Kathleen said...

love your post... my DH was on his knees this week running the lint roller on one of my quilts that was going in a box to go to the Pennsylvania National Quilt Extravaganza... and it gave me a big smile to read about Rob doing the same thing !

Anonymous said...

My, my, you can be so honest it scares me. Loved the post, as humans we are always stressed about something. You mentioned the bird quilt, please post a pic. of it. Have fun and enjoy the quilt show. Lum