A visit from the goon squad*

I sold a wheel today.  My Merlin Tree purpleheart wood custom one.

Life changes, I know that.  Hell, I’ve been called a change agent.  I’m committed to evolution.  
And it’s not like this was a surprise.  I decided last year, met with the buyer this past summer so she could try it, and there’s been a payment plan.  I’ve said my emotional goodbyes, I loaded the car this morning with a clear heart.  This is a good home - no a great home - for this spinning wheel.  It’s the right decision for a number of reasons.  

But when I drove away I felt sad.

I always need to remind myself that grief is normal - that feeling sad even after the right decision is made is healthy.   It means you have feelings and feeling them. Which I approve of.  But it still surprised me, it sort of always does.

I remember writing the check for the deposit, I remember the thrill of the first time I spun on it - at Maryland Sheep and Wool in 2006 I think.  I made my share of the yarn for a group project/wedding gift on it when I still lacked the skill to use it well and I TORTURED myself over the perceived awfulness of the end result.  I learned so much and it was SO long ago.  So much has changed.  

I’ve been on a cleaning jag, emptying out closets and reorganizing shelves and finding new homes for lots of things.  I made a proper place for my vacuum yesterday -  for the past 5 or 10 years it has kind of roamed the house without ever being put away.  Now it goes in the coat closet, all tidylike, and it made me realize that I’ve lived here for 11 years this coming June.   

So much time - it’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere other than my childhood home and in 5 years that will be equalled.  And five years is forever ago.  Five years is a lifetime, a lifeCYCLE in some cases, but it’s also a minute.  11 years is nearly a quarter of my life and it happened like the snap of my fingers.

I never thought here was where I would spend a quarter of my life and I can’t tell you how many ways I mean that.  I never thought there’d be a time when that wheel, that beautiful game-changing wheel, was not what I needed anymore.

I had to call a friend tonight because I felt so odd and displaced, I’m stumbling around trying to explain that I suddenly felt like the silence would eat me, and she told me I was absolutely real, velveteen rabbit Real and I’m can breathe a little bit now.  

Time, you motherfucker.

*the book from which I borrowed this title is amazing and you should all go read it right away

Comments

[ellen]

I have found that in order to move forward you have to be able to really let go of the past, even (or especially) the concrete objects that tie you to the past; that nothing new will come until you can do it. Maybe it's time to let go of the idea that your life is temporary and make a home for yourself where you are.

[Miranda]

I know how it feels to see something in which you have invested a part of yourself go to another home. Thanks for the kind words here... it's interesting too to see how she is fitting into her new home, and how it feels to have something that was so personal to someone else, settling in here.

[Lynn in Tucson]

Wow. It's a little strange to be a different Lynn who was about to write an identical post.

I let my Journey Wheel go a couple weeks ago (and I don't even know that it was to the right home but I'm okay with that). It was my first wheel but it was never the right wheel and things change and more wheels do not buy me more free time and there's too much freakin' stuff around this place.

You make the right decisions. You do.

(And I couldn't get into the book but I think I'll give it another shot.)

[Laurie]

Tisn't trite to say the only constant is change. I don't think it is possible to be the same person for that long. I feel the ache of nostalgia because I remember that wheel day.

[Martha]

I hope that wheel's new owner loves her & treats her well OR THEY WILL HAVE TO ANSWER TO ME.

[Kathy]

Even though it's hard, it sounds like you feel lighter as a result. I've been cleaning/giving away a lot too -- just gave my daughter two beloved college sweatshirts that had been living on a shelf -- better to be worn than on a shelf, right? And LOVE that book!

[Jennigma]

Proud of you. From over here where I don't know you very well it has kind of seemed like you were trapped in amber, trying to break free of something, only I couldn't tell what and you didn't seem to know and watching you struggle was painful. Now it's starting to feel like you are breaking free, and I want to cheer you on from the sidelines, and hope the amber was actually a chrysalis and I'm witnessing the birth of something beautiful and free.

[Laura J]

I very rarely spin. I love spinning. The excitement of learning about the different wools, the colors (which result in some lovely yarns in colors no one can wear...), the old-tech gadgets... I miss the rush of discovery and wonder why I only like learning things, not the long doing that is supposed to be such a deeper pleasure.

[Lynn]

Yep. I've sold two wheels and a charkha (well, one wheel has yet to be delivered) in the past 6 months and it feels ...fine. If anything, it feels definitive, in a good way, in that I know - KNOW - that I am not a wheel collector, I am a wheel user (I still have 4 wheels; at least one, maybe two, will go). Life is way too fucking short, dammit, to spend any more of it cluttered up, in all the ways cluttered can be defined.

[Kim]

I am in that same place where I need to clean out some of the clutter which means some of my beloved wheels.....it's hard yet freeing all at the same time..