This morning I was briefly seized by the spirit of my mother. I am happy to report that, yes, in fact, I do have all the bedding required to house people in our second guest room. Took me a few minutes to find everything, as it was scattered around my closets. That has been rectified.
Something you hear a lot in women’s writing is the joy of simple things, or small things. Small things make me unhappy, unless they can be expanded one way or another.
Some background. Small motor work explodes my nervous system; knitting, calligraphy, screwdrivers. But gross motor work is a tonic. I can hammer anything. Even with no-motor work, done by flights of logic or fancy, I do better with big than small, better with the first 20% than the final 80, better with structure than finishes.
- I am reminding myself to stand up more, to dance more, to type less.
- When a longish while back I wrote a post about being a project person vs. a product person I got some emails saying it had been useful. Maybe you’re more gross motor than small, or the other way around, and maybe that perspective would be helpful.
My mother truly did love small things. I can only sort blankets happily if I peg the simple act to an idea. Seems the idea would be, in fact, my mother.
Have a wonderful weekend.