During the holiday, after weeks of procrastination and forgetfulness, I reluctantly pulled out a few choice items from the Mending Pile. My mum had one of these piles, and despite her excellent needle skills and multi-tasking that would put a politician on the campaign trail to shame, as far as I can remember it was never empty. In fact, even though she now only has two children living at home (at least one of whom gave up garden mudslides long ago enough not to have ripped any jeans lately), I'd be willing to bet there's still a Mending Pile somewhere, hiding in the bottom of a box or the back of a cupboard.
If you're wondering why I'm capitalising the phrase, the reason is very simple: dread. The Mending Pile goes hand in hand with such institutions as The Spring Clean, The Clear-Out, Unpacking Boxes - activities which we know we should embrace as part of the natural rhythm of life, but which for all but the Bree Van De Kamps of the world pose the kind of challenge that we'd rather hide under the duvet from. The knowledge that something is going to take an enormous chunk out of my day/week/life, and be onerous into the bargain, makes it a much bigger deal in my books. There just isn't time for all that, is there?
So I thought, until a pre-flight mending-related spat led me to reassess the situation (partly because it was 11pm, I was getting up at 3am the next day, and the bedroom light was still on while the offending item was being hunted out). Buttongate made me realise quite how much procrastination I justify with the phrase 'I'm too busy', and how many things I've left unfinished. Admittedly some of those things were and are best left incomplete - no one wants handmade mittens that look like oven gloves, a folder full of photos of Hayden Christensen, or my involvement in an improvised play. The flipside, however, left me with a long list of unjustifiably-abandoned projects: a jumper I've been knitting for Stan since 2010, a short novel I started at university, dance classes I promised myself I would take, research into evening classes so I can re-learn French, this blog which had all of two posts in the last year... and a whole host of other, some bigger and some smaller, things that I'd let go of.
Analytically-minded as I like to think I am, I couldn't actually formulate a sufficient reason or excuse, not for all of it anyway. Yes work is busy, yes there's always something to be done in the flat, yes I have people to visit instead of sewing buttons. So, have I just taken a more practical approach to life and sloughed off the plans of my past as unnecessary distractions? Or have I become lazy? Or am I afraid?
None of this is the best food for thought when you're trying to sleep before a long-haul flight, but I never was good at choosing the moment on that front (and I have the late-night Skype records to prove it). Consequently I had more than one wry smile as movie after movie on the flight tried to teach me I should do whatever I wanted as long as it made me happy; it seemed far too simplistic after all my soul-searching, but at the same time I was aware of how ridiculous it was to start re-assessing my entire life over a missing button. Ladies and gentlemen, step up to see, The Button! The metaphorical straw that broke the writer's metaphorical back! See her collapse under the enormous implications of an insignificant domestic incident! See her refer to herself in the third person in an attempt to inject more humour into her narcissistic diatribe!
But seriously. It's just a button, and I'm totally not having a crisis, but I do wish I did more. More stuff that matters, little things like buttons and jumper-knitting, and big things like going out on a limb with wacky creative ideas, and taking the risk of failure to actually try things I've been talking about for years. The old 'use it or lose it' adage has a serious ring of truth, as anyone who has heard me play piano lately can testify (lead fingers doesn't even cover it). I don't think I can buy into the movie dream and just throw myself into things without thinking of the consequences, but I'm guilty of sitting so far at the other end of the scale that I might never do anything at all for fear of it going wrong.
So - Buttongate has kicked me sufficiently toward some kind of resolution. If you're reading this, then when you next see me you'd better ask me what exactly I'm doing about it. Don't let me make excuses!
The title made me think you were re-writing a U2 song! Make time for the little things. They do add up, and it's worth the effort in the end. I will hold you accountable next time I see you.... :-)
ReplyDeleteWhich U2 song would that be? Well maybe that should be my next project :) As for holding me accountable, I expect nothing less from you, dad!
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