Clear

2011, so far, has been a year of cleaning up. I am, compartment by compartment, de-cluttering. Digging down to nitty gritty gunk. Stepping back and assessing, asking: Does this work for me? Do I need this? Is it messy? Is my conscience clear?

On my other blog, the sewing one, I shared my New Year's resolution. Which was to NOT BUY any clothes for one whole year. For any of my family. If we needed clothes, I would sew them. At the time I made this commitment, it was in the dead of Winter, and we were bleeding out jeans and sweaters. Violet was swathed in long sleeved dresses. Wright had multitudes of hand-me-downs to keep him clothed for 3 weeks at a time before I needed to do any laundry.

Now, however, it is Spring. I...have gained, like, 5 lbs. I am down to 1-2 jeans. I hate all my shorts. WTF did all my short-sleeved tops go? Damn my purging mentality--where's the depth of selection?? For various reasons, my super-sewing output at the beginning of the year has trickled to, um, a dam. I just can't get any sewing done. Too busy doing all the other crap I have to do. And my KIDS. Dear Lord, why can't they just exist without fighting/needing/shuffling? Fact is, they are my priority, above all else. I can't feel bad about that, even though I made resolution to clothe us with mine own two handses. (Leeches.)

I caved and bought: A hat. 1 top to wear to a concert.

Whatever.

When it comes down to it, I'm pretty frickin proud to have gone this long. My endless conflicted guilt over buying inexpensive, slave-made clothes

(But am I also providing jobs??? And if so and I'm okay with that, do I still want to look down and know that some sweaty person 50 rungs down the ladder from me blearily pushed these seams through an oily-smelling machine and then went home to his/her 300ft square living space, rice for dinner, and 5 kids?? How comfortable do I feel standing on the shoulders of people with so unimaginably less than I? Why is my life so pristine and my birth so fortunate that I was born in America and they in China/Thailand/Indonesia into poverty? Why do we need this many clothes? Where do the old ones go? I don't know. I'm not trying to make a stand or condemn, just do what I'm comfortable with. I have major, major problems with The System. These are the things that keep me up at night, and I'm not apologizing for that.),

is a non-issue when I a) sew my own clothes and b) accept second-hand clothes. I am 95% sticking to that, and it feels amazing.

Where was I?

So, that was the first part of my clear-out-the-clutter resolution. Stop buying clothes and end the Old Navy card addiction. Next I tackled my sewing paraphenilia consumption. K, working on that. Doing better at it. I'm no trying to be smug about this, just sort of systematically trying to BE A BETTER PERSON so I can stop loathing myself from a big picture morality standpoint, just a little bit.

We've started going to a new church. I want to write love letters in the sky regarding how I feel about this new church. Which isn't actually that new, since we used to go there back in our pre-parenthood days. I'm...alive there. Our old church, while eh, not bad, was basically where my faith went to die. My life-long faith. Dead. Like, so dead it was kind of, I'm not sure if I even believe this crap anymore kinda dead. I actually think that's a good thing in many ways--question stuff, always!--but it was time to remember why I believe anything anyway. Hence why the new church is like my new boyfriend I can't stop talking about. Real people and real sermons and truth? Intellectually satisfying faith? Huh. Whoda thunkit!

And. Through many "aha" moment sermons, and a lovely jaunt through Esther at an I-also-have-faith-in-my-gender-again weekly study with some truly beautiful (inside and out) ladies, I have come to all sorts of conclusions about my life. How I want to conduct it. What is, and what is not good for it.

I'm cleaning out my house, too. I sort of neglected it quite a bit the past 5-ish months, while we all hunkered down in the rain and deep cold that comes from living near the ocean in a cavernous house with no heat. It is...well. It is 1. not clean, 2. clutter filled, 3. sad. So I'm tackling it, corner by corner.

All this feels really good. I'm new. Happy. Free. In the words of my personal musical hero, John Mayer, I'm not together but I'm getting there.