On New Years Eve every year I write myself a list. A list of things we want to do as a family, a list of things we need or want to do to our home and a list of things just for me. It’s a type of goal setting I guess.
This year I decided I wanted to try as many new things as I could but they had to be meaningful and they had to bring me joy.
Earlier in the year I went to a workshop on working with clay. I found it so soothing, creating such an element of slowness that I organised a private lesson for the children and I. It was even more than I expected. It was total bliss and I loved how all my creations turned out.
A few months later I learnt macrame. I was delighted that I created a beautiful pot hanger. It reminded me a lot of crocheting but without the hook. I loved the result.
Today I did a crochet workshop. I know how to crochet because my Mum taught me and then Nanna taught me to correct my errors along the way. I made a beautiful bag today. Sitting quietly sipping tea, eating cheese and crackers and relaxing in the warmth of the sunshine for three hours with a crochet hook in my hand was bliss.
I didn’t realise when I gave myself this goal for the year how happy it would make me and how special some of the connections I’m making with other local women have become.
The art of working with our hands gives us a specific purpose. An end goal. But it gives us connections with other creatives, other humans who encourage each other along, who talk about life’s journey and give each other advice for that journey. To sit and create, to eat, to drink, to talk, to be silent, to watch, to listen, to smile, to laugh and to be happy.
This is exactly how life is supposed to be.