Sweatergirl's stuff

I had a great day yesterday when some local spinning friends stopped by to eat and spin and knit and eat and such. I was supposed to get some moral support for ripping out a completely finished sweater that is just too small for the intended recipient - instead, they thought it fit me perfectly. Hmph - some friends. Now I will have to rip out solo.

But they did take some of my STUFF. Old projects that I just gave up on that could be remade or ripped out, and some roving that I just can't spin anymore (spun toooo much of it already). Pretty half-balls of yarn. Etc.

Now, some of you know that Sarah and I are trying to not buy yarn. I'm not sure exactly what her personal motivations for doing this wacky thing with me, but mine definitely revolve around my need for STUFF. I am a packrat. I love to buy stuff. I looove to buy stuff on sale (no need to go down the Target sale aisle after I've bee through). I love to find stuff (yard sales/antique stores). I love to have stuff. I feel secure surrounded by my stuff. And, volume-wise, most of my stuff is yarn and fiber.

Anyway - this will come together, I hope - I went to a Roman Catholic high school. There was one religion teacher that we kind of made fun of (ok, we made fun of all the religion teachers, but...) because every Friday, we would have "meditation" in the chapel. Many of us meditated with snores. But when I stayed awake once in a while, I participated in the guided meditations. And once in a while now, I repeat the exercises, either consciously or in a random dream. In one meditation, I'm in a hot air balloon at the seashore. I ramp up the fire and all that, but to gain height (and get where I'm going), I need to start dumping bags of sand out of the basket of the balloon. The sand is, umm, stuff that's weighing me down - negative feelings (resentment, frustration, etc.). But, recently, for me, it's actually been stuff. Having all this stuff is actually weighing me down.

For example, I've been spending a lot of time reorganizing my yarn to try to make the room passable; I could have been spending that time doing something I love - knitting or reading or spending time with friends or Steve or, well, you get the idea. I mean, I've even thought about getting rid of the bed in the guest/yarn room to have more space. Which would mean no out-of-town guests could visit. Which would actually be pretty sad.

And so, although "not buying yarn" may seem silly or overly strict - it at least gives me a path toward improvement. In the amount of stuff. And a path toward more fulfilling free-time. And, hey, maybe I will have the chance to find some ultra-loveable but ultra-neglected yarn in the stash. So, thanks for being my support group, Sarah! Even though it's a little silly.