Casting On

It's been so very long since I even tried to put words down to post and even longer since I've posted. The last few months have been so very busy and exhausting. When I look back, I can't exactly tell you what took up all the energy and time, but certainly it has to do with two spirited youngsters, a job listening to trauma 27 hours a week, a limited budget, stubbornness about making our meals from scratch and using cloth diapers, not enough sleep, and, oh yes, that pesky dissertation draft M. is trying to get mostly finished by the end of the month. Whew.

But, there's been lots of creativity and joyfulness throughout that time, too. And, often that has been what has taken me away from keeping up with this blog. When I have to choose between writing here and being in my life, there really isn't any contest. But, now in this new year, I'm interested in seeing whether I might be able to bring the blogging back in without having to give up important time I need for other things. We'll see.

Today seemed like a good day for it. I've been thinking about new things, new possibilities lately. Of course, January is often a time of talking about new beginnings, resolutions and the like. In the past, January as a time for reflection has never grabbed me much, however, January was when my lovely C. was born last year, and now that the anniversary of the month of her birth is upon us, I'm finding myself doing a lot of looking back and looking ahead.

Beginnings are hard, though. Knitting recently reminded me of this. I just finished a goofy cowl for myself, made out of yarn raveled from a sweater bought at the Salvation Army the other day.

The knitting was easy and brainless, but the casting on was vile. The needles I was using didn't help, but I've always hated casting on. I don't like the counting, I don't like having to guess how much yarn to start with (I always get it wrong the first time and sometimes the second and third. Grrr.), and I really hate the work of the first row, when the yarn is tight around the needle and not interested in getting started on whatever I'm proposing. (Here's the pattern--it's beautiful in cashmere, don't you think? The reused synthetic took it for a bit of a weird turn, but it's comfy and warm and I didn't bring anything new into the world.)

I've been thinking about the beginnings of therapy, too, lately. After a break of three weeks, many of my existing clients and I have to figure out some of the choreography of our therapy time anew, and I've taken on a handful of new clients in the past month or so. So, there have been many sessions that also feel like casting on--I haven't yet found that comfortable flow of the work yet. It is exciting to be in these new or renewed relationships and brings a freshness to the work, but it keeps me on my toes and yearning, some, for the relative ease of humming, purposeful therapy work. It can be tiring.

Which reminds me of a new beginning of today. Believe it or not, I went to the gym today. I know. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Over the holidays, our family joined the local YMCA, and I've been really excited and anxious about it. So, Saturday, J. and I tried out the "family fun pool" (it was, in fact, true to it's name). Today, however, I really pushed the new start thing. I took advantage of the free childcare rooms; J. and C. both played in the childcare area while I worked out a little. This was a BIG THING--C. had never been cared for by anyone but me, M. or our mothers. However, C. did not seem to get the memo about this, and, true to her take-on-the-world nature, she didn't seem to have a bit of a problem with it. So, it amazingly was a new beginning with little fanfare.

I hope that putting words to the page will prove to be a similar experience in this coming year. I hope to cobble together some record of my adventures, my ponderings, and my creations. We'll see how it goes...