“Life is a journey not a destination.” “Enjoy the journey.” “Stop and smell the roses.”
Platitudes. I’m not very good at them. Granted, not as bad as a dear friend’s mom is at idioms which she mixes in the most delightful ways (“you made your bed, now eat it” AND “you buttered your bread, now lie in it”:). I’m mostly not good at them because, while by definition they are supposed to be concise and witty statements of truth, they, also by definition, are pretty low on the complexity scale. So, when I use them, I tend to, unhelpfully I admit, follow them up with a paragraph of words trying to get at what I think I’m really trying to say, eventually so bogged down that I’m not clarifying anything at all. I suppose I just need to learn to get on with it, which is rather the idea of this post. What does it mean to “get on” with it? What is the journey?
For the last two weeks, I’ve done NO weaving. none. zilch. My crafting life was totally and completely taken over by the Winter Olympics and a follow-a-long event with my Guild. We all picked projects to complete during the weeks of the games, trying new challenges or facing old defeats! I could have chosen a weaving event, but decided to knit a sweater and try steeking (google that, it’s cool) for the first time because that was more portable, increasing my chances of success.
It was great fun; however, in the back of my mind, the whole time, I kept thinking, “but what about that next weaving project I’m supposed to be doing?” Platitudes like the ones above came to my mind. I wanted to enjoy the Olympics instead of thinking, “if I can just get this project done, then I can get to the next one”. It’s the same advice I used to give myself back when I hated warping the loom (getting it ready for weaving). Usually, warping a loom takes FAR longer than actually weaving the project. I had even naively said that I would never weave because setting up the loom looked like such devious torture invented by fiber masochists.
So, I would try to enjoy the journey. I would tell myself all the right things. Look at that massive, beautiful warp just waiting there, so full of potential and possibilities, imagine what it will turn into once you weave it. Think about the fantastic final cloth. Warps are the very epitome of newness and transformation and metamorphosis – enjoy it! And I was successful in these thoughts?…
…uh, nope. Still just looked like work to me! So instead of thinking about the warp as a journey I tried to think of it as the destination. Trying to enjoy the journey is still thinking of it as a “going to”. I don’t think I would have ever learned to enjoy warping if I’d only thought of it as something that got me somewhere else. Even when you know that the getting “there” can be completely enjoyable, it still isn’t “there”. Enjoyment finally came when I realized I would warp a loom even if I was never going to weave that warp at all.
I suppose, ultimately, that’s what people really mean when they say, “enjoy the journey.” I’ve once again spent many paragraphs bogging it down. Time to get on with it. Let’s go warp that loom.