Getting a Life

Today I was reading one of my favorite blogs, and saw that the blogger had posted photos of a sweater she had designed, knit, and even made the buttons for from polymer clay.  It's absolutely gorgeous, and I can't wait until she offers the pattern for sale. I will buy it, and, if I'm being realistic, probably never complete the sweater myself.  But that's a whole 'nother issue.

In her blog today she made a passing reference to an IRL friend telling her she spends too much time on her projects and needs to "get a life." 

Reading that stopped me short. To my eyes, it looks like she has a very full life: her children are grown.  She knits, crochets, weaves, draws beautiful and whimsical little animals, designs knitwear and now, apparently, makes her own buttons.  If her project requires a skill she does not already have, she learns it.  She is clearly in love with her art, and I imagine she wakes up every morning excited to jump into her current project.

There was a time when I was in love with sewing.  I made children's outfits and sold them on eBay.  Every now and then I'd have an outfit sell for a high price, but I lost money overall: especially when you consider the hours I spent.  I didn't care because I loved those hours.  I would take apart Hanna Andersson dresses or any outgrown dress that I liked, then design my own pattern template from the pieces. I thought of my sewing room as my laboratory.  Every morning, the thought of what I was currently sewing got me out of bed.  I mean, I had to get up because I had all those little children and they had to be fed and taught and all that, but it was the sewing that made leaving the bed palatable. 

Occasionally someone would tell me to get a life, or more often, ask the question, "How do you do it?" which is really just a more polite way of saying, "Why do you do it?"  Both remarks conveyed the fact that the speaker did not consider what I was doing to be compelling, satisfying, or even a valid expenditure of time.  I didn't mind it, but sometimes I'd pause and wonder why being very engrossed in a particular hobby implied a lack of life.  It sure felt like a life: I had a family I loved, and something extra that made me happy and had nothing to do with them. 

My love for sewing disappeared as suddenly as it had started, and now I have a whole lot of fabric and machinery locked in a storage closet in the basement.  I feel envious of my former self: the work and care that I was happy to put into a garment, that feeling of being inspired.  It isn't that I had more time then or more energy.  It's simply that my enthusiasm created its own energy, which in turn made me find the time -- even if it was 2 a.m.  And yet, how I was spending my time involved much less outside world and was thus deemed Not A Life.

I do love knitting, but it's not the same as what I felt for sewing. Knitting and I are long past the honeymoon phase.  And as much as I enjoy it, knitting is rarely enough to make me skip the siren's call of the nap.  Years from now I'll probably feel like I gave myself way too much grief over these naps, and that I shouldn't have wasted energy on the question of, did I have the right to nap?  Should naps be based on a meritocracy?   I would say that I'm in love with napping, except that -- right or wrong -- napping makes me feel too guilty to enjoy in that same, pure way I enjoyed the sewing.

Now I'm more in the world, and I don't much care for it.  There are lots of meetings and conferences, and lots of assisting in the growing lives of growing people which translates, somehow, into driving and waiting. 

I miss being so excited about something I'm going to make that I actually attempt a drawing of it in advance.  That last year on eBay I used a photographer and a model (Olive became less cooperative with age) and I would wait for the photos to appear in my inbox, so eager to see what my work had inspired on the part of the photographer.  Then do it, you might say.  Set up a sewing room  and dig in.  I have the time, and I have the equipment.  I'm simply missing the desire: the only part that matters.

So, what is Having a Life?  If I get one, would someone let me know?  I have a feeling it's the sort of thing where if a person's not paying attention, she could easily miss it.

Comments

[Amelia]

or more often, ask the question, "How do you do it?" which is really just a more polite way of saying, "Why do you do it?" Both remarks conveyed the fact that the speaker did not consider what I was doing to be compelling, satisfying, or even a valid expenditure of time.
I hear this a lot from people who have 2 children and spend lots of time exercising and volunteering at the school. I have always been able to hear the real question they are asking and it has always offended me. Why should I be doing something that they have decided is an appropriate use of time?

[Amelia]

http://www.dailylife.com.au/news-and-views/dl-opinion/is-it-ok-to-enjoy-celebrity-20120223-1tq8l.html
For you!

[ssheers]

I think that "getting a life" is what extroverts think that introverts should do because extroverts can't imagine being happy or satisfied doing what the introverts are doing.

[Anna]

Yes on the introverts/extroverts divide! I was recently scolded for not enjoying going dancing - told "you need to expand your horizons" -- nope, I plenty like staying at home and doing origami. Ugh! I am so offended by the "get a life" sentiment.

[Catherine]

The people who say get a life may do things that we could not stand to do. I really wonder why those people don't realize that the world would be boring if everyone enjoyed the same things. Interesting, considering the fact that they think sewing or knitting or reading is boring and sewers and knitters and readers might consider what they do just as boring.

[kmkat]

My equivalent to "get a life" is "somebody has too much time on their hands". Both comments, it seems to me, come from people who lack the creative gene. The joy that comes from creating -- whether is be a piece of art or a child's sweater or a useful bit of software -- is unlike anything else.

Would people say that about someone who paints landscapes as a hobby? I think not; painting pictures is generally viewed as okay while sewing/knitting/designing/reading/thinking is not.

::stalks off muttering to self::

[Ingrid]

I am so with you on the driving and waiting. That is not really living, nor is yelling at children to "hurry, hurry, hurry" so that we have time to drive and wait. Some sock knitting does make the waiting a little more bearable, but still...

[Asdis]

Amen to all of these observations! My older sister, an avid knitter, has countless times wondered why I cross-stitch. I mean, I get questions like "So what do you do with all those cross-stitched pictures?" So even another "creative" person doesn't get it. She's never asked anything similar about my knitting, though ;)

[Sophiefair]

I never hear anyone tell men the same thing about their hobbies...

[Amelia]

Thanks Ingrid, what a great comment.

[Tamara]

Oh, I have LOTS and lots of thoughts on this post!

[Barbara]

My job is to sit at home by myself designing pages and covers of books. I can go days without seeing anyone outside of my family and the other people walking their dogs in the afternoon.

But since I get paid for it people think I'm lucky that I get to work from home.

Is that a life? Getting paid?

[Sara]

Oh, I think you have a life alright! A full and passionate and caring one. Filled with a mixture of hard work, creativity, some worry as well as an apprciation for the good things in life. I think creative people are the lucky ones, fulfilled by the notion of pulling a rabbit out of the hat - something out of nothing. That kind of thing.

I think that people who have no hobbies, no passions, are at a loss in their own company and need other people to fulfil their needs. They don't understand that maniacally sewing/knitting/painting in a corner at 3 in the morning is exciting. They think you need to climb a mountain, or go on expeditions to meet and greet polar bears to get thrills. It is staggering for them to discover that some people can get their kicks sewing in yarn ends. It's so alien to them that they don't believe it, so feel it must be a waste of time and energy, just because they wouldn't do it. And if people are not the same as them, then they are just plain wrong and need to get a life. (Just what do these people who like to critise do with their lives? Oh yes, needle away at others just to fill in the time.)

Your life from where I am standing, looks busy, full, active and loving. So don't worry about looking to get one, you definitely have one already.

Oh and I hate the introvert/extrovert thing. I am neither or both. Oh and I agree with the comment that mentions her knitting sister questioning the cross stitch. You hear that all the time, knitters and crocheter do it often.

[Sue W]

I miss your sewing. That is how I found you, I bought a fetching yellow knit dress and hat for my daughter, and I remember the little olive candle that came with it. My girlfriend also sold on ebay under the ID caterpillar*creations, my daughter had many of her samples....but you were different because you sewed KNIT fabric, it was amazing to me. I have since learned how to sew, but I still can't sew anything knit, but I often think of the little yellow dress when I am in the fabric store and see fabric I would like to make something with, then I realize that I can't. You could, but I can't. You are wonderfully talented seamstress.....

[Tamara]

It's very rude to say "get a life" to someone! The times when I am tempted are when I hear or read someone spewing out hateful talk. Grrrr.

This essay has been rattling around in my head since the day you posted it. I have been missing my violin SO MUCH since my second child was born 19 months ago and then since I've been locked out of my orchestra job since May 15. I miss practicing---the total absorption---the small victories of getting better---the connection with great minds giving me this incredible music---the thrill of actually managing to make a beautifully turned phrase, with a lovely sound. I miss being *really* in shape, violin-wise, not just phew! making it through the difficult passages in rehearsal without embarrassing myself. I miss the creativity of putting together a solo recital program (not that I was ever paid for that, but I loved it) and even the oh-my-God-why-do-I-do-this-to-myself nerves of performing it. Now that I can't afford a babysitter, practicing is very rare.

To me, your essay read like someone who misses all of that, too---the being in the zone, as the gurus call it; the happiness of being really *competent* at something; the joy of NOT BEING INTERRUPTED A THOUSAND TIMES BY YOUR CHILDREN! Oh, did I say that in all-caps?

All this extra worry about Olive recently. . .seeing one of your daughters so absorbed in her painting. . .missing that in your own life. . .the boredom of driving and dropping off and picking up. . .

I hope that you are able to nap and sleep and restore yourself. I hope for both of us that the time will come when we have the health and the logistical wherewithal to again throw ourselves into creative pursuits. I wish you all the best, and FORGET about those awful "get a life" people!

[Tamara]

Or am I simply projecting? ;-)

[Laura]

I understand how that muse or enthusiasm can suddenly leave you. I sewed costumes non-stop for years and for the last 3 months have had no desire whatsoever to sew anything. My sewing room is in complete disarray and I have spent my time reading. I have read more books in 3 months than I have in the last 3 years. Also? A Kindle is a lot easier to haul around as Chauffeur to My Children than a beading or sewing project.

I finally decided that I needed to change my focus as to what I was doing. I got burned out doing things I didn't want to do, and less of what was inspiring to me. For me to get back into that groove I had to go through the motions, even though I wasn't particularly inspired, and find something I wanted to do for me, and something for someone else I cared about. Slowly the excitement is coming back. It will probably never be the same, but that is ok. We need different things at different times in our lives, and what might be my life today is likely to be very different later.

I hope you find your excitement again.

[Jen]

Not at all, Tamara. You pretty much nailed it!

Jen

[galina]

Thank you, Jen, for your writing.
You bring joy to those who read you. And, I think, it is life.
Galina

[Em]

Oh no!!!! I've absolutely asked people before- possibly you, Jen?- how they manage to "do it all." But I promise, when I asked, I was simply looking for pointers! I imagine you- with your many more children than me- sitting at home with each one appropriately entertained (and previously homeschooled!), knitting gorgeous creations in your free time, and I think to myself- "Sheesh! How can she do all those wonderful things and I can barely find time to use the bathroom, much less finish the uneven scarf I started knitting a year ago?"
Now that I know how it's taken, I'll likely never ask anyone again how they do it. But by golly, I'm going to wonder for the rest of my life....