Great Expectations

I was recently discussing with my husband my surprise at discovering how much satisfaction I was deriving from quilting. I was trying to express that it was more than just enjoying myself doing it--it was more than appreciating the aesthetics of pretty fabrics or the sense of pride from a nicely completed project. There was something deeply fulfilling and extremely relaxing about the process for me.

Later, it struck me. Fabric doesn't expect anything from me.

I am in the stage of life that most of us hit sooner or later--lots of people needing lots of things from us lots of the time. Work, family, extended family, volunteer responsibilities...Like many women (or men) my age I'm sure, I sometimes go through weeks or whole months where I feel as if I'm constantly disappointing people that I can't do more, be more, accomplish more. Logically, I know no one probably actually feels that way about me--that's just my own stuff to deal with. But there it is--my overly-responsible-guilt-genes won't listen to my logic-genes, darn them. I wish they would.

But when I'm alone in my sewing room with stacks of fabric under my hands, I don't feel guilt. Or, at least, I don't when I haven't promised anyone I'll make them something--but that's another blog entry. I managed to finish all promised projects several weeks ago so lately it's just been me and whatever the heck I wanted to do whenever the heck I wanted to do it. And all that lovely fabric. With no expectations of me.

Fabric doesn't ask to borrow the car or forget to turn in homework. Fabric doesn't need me to meet a deadline (which is why I absolutely refuse to be part of a round robin right now!). More importantly, fabric doesn't expect me to behave a certain way, believe particular things, or be a particular kind of person. Fabric needs nothing from me other than my adoration--which I'm happy to give.

The first few weeks of my sabbatical, I treated quilting much as I had all my work deadlines--I worked in a frenzy to clear my shelf of as many of the UFOs that had been gathering dust as possible. I gave out a slew of Christmas gifts and when the last UFO got the binding sewed on I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Now I didn't have any UFOs expecting my attention! I had no unfulfilled promises to other people sitting on my shelf! I was free!

Before I rushed into the next project, though, I had to stop and remind myself that I had no deadlines now. There were no expectations about the next quilt. I could take my time and maybe even do a slightly more complicated project rather than choosing everything by how fast I could get it done. I had to keep stopping myself from mentally planning fifteen different Christmas gifts for next year. I repeatedly told myself, "Quilt for yourself. Just see what happens." And I suddenly slowed down, and saw the light.

It is possible, in some cases, to define my own boundaries. Although people may have expectations of me, I don't always need to meet those expectations. But to be honest, in my particular case, I know perfectly well that very few people have expectations of me that are higher than the ones I have of myself. And I need to cut myself some serious slack. I joked with my personal trainer (see the introductory blog post) that I tend to be an "all or nothing" kind of person. If I can't do something full out, I tend to end up not doing it at all. I fully immerse myself into things until I burn out. I tried to be SuperMom/ SuperEmployee/ SuperVolunteer until I found myself getting SuperCranky.

My trainer gave me words of wisdom about the gym that I've begun applying in other parts of my life: Something is better than nothing. OK, so I may not have time for a full 60 minute workout. But if I can get there for 20 minutes, that's 20 minutes more than if I hadn't gone at all. I may not be able to give my son the car every time he wants it, but I can give it to him some of the time and ask him to find rides the other times. I may not be able to meet every need in my volunteer responsibilities, but I can prioritize which ones I am able to meet. My sabbatical is over so I won't have as much time for quilting as before--but something is better than nothing. I've retrained myself to think in 10 minute chunks rather than gnashing my teeth because I can't get hours at a time.

I've begun working on lowering my expectations of myself, and on redefining my ability to meet other people's expectations. I'll obviously continue to struggle with this all the time--I am who I am, after all. Meanwhile, when I start feeling overwhelmed by the world I'll remember how good it feels to pet the fabric in my stash and I'll retreat to the place where no one expects anything of me. And I'll just be.