When to call it quits

—When dreams meet daylight.
—When working hard doesn’t produce desired results.
—When someone gets hurt.
—When it’s time to move—on or over?

It hurts to give up on dreams, but sometimes it hurts MORE to pursue them.

—How about: when you can’t get to your painting station because boxes of yarn block the way?

You can’t see all the other plastic storage bins of yarn that are also blocking passage.

Imagine here a picture of my abandoned writing station; it’s been abandoned so long I don’t have anything to take a photo of anymore.

I think we’ve established the fact that I’m an artist of some kind—complete with artistic temperament (though I’m not into drunken rages or ear removal). Maybe my feelings aren’t more touchy than those of the average person who refuses to consider themself an artist. But in a sleep deprived state my feelings tend toward dive into depression and it’s harder to keep them in check.

For nearly four years I’ve been an administrator on the Facebook Pin Loom Weaving Support Group. In some Facebook groups the admin doesn’t do a lot of interacting. (I belong to a few wherein I have no idea who the admin is.) But as an admin I like to be really involved. In this particular group I’ve done a lot of on- and off-scene work. If there’s been a problem—whether or not I was involved—and someone left the group, I’d try to follow up if I could reach them. A number of people contact me with questions or concerns. This doesn’t happen all the time, but frequently it happens in little clumps.

We have a sort of ongoing battle on the PLWSG: What constitutes a pin loom? Our recent kerfuffle, as one gal put it, was over potholder looms. I was largely to blame for the upset because I was upset. I don’t think potholder looms are pin looms and I deleted a couple (more) posts on the subject without so much as a by your leave. I was tired and I was ticked off. It’s dumb to act in anger or without thinking ahead. For some odd reason—no, not odd, human nature—a few group members objected to my statement that we aren’t a potholder group. (I meant to say potholder loom group, but… I was tired and ticked off.) This sparked one of those semi-explosive meandering discussions that are the delight of all who participate in them. Inevitably I got hurt. (Received my first ever “mad” emoticon-response for something I said in a comment!)

OK, that mess was my fault. I shouldn’t have acted as I did. Sometimes I slip off my Tinker Toy-constructed administrator pedestal and act like a tired toddler. I’m sorry for hurting anyone else’s feelings (I know how that feels). And I relearned a valuable lesson: our feelings are a result of choices we make—we choose to be hurt or offended. (I don’t really like that lesson because it’s a really, really tough one. But the sooner one attempts to accept it, the sooner it begins to change one’s life. Fact.)

I don’t really want to dwell on the much ado of the Facebook group. It’s an illustration of warning signs, I guess: Time to Let Go approaches.

When is it to time to call quits? I stopped pursuing publication when someone said something I perceived as unkind—but really that was just my cue call; the decision was already in the wings. I stopped dancing and teaching ballet classes because I couldn’t handle it anymore—again, after much clinging to the dying dream. I’m not sure when I gave up the fantasy of becoming an artist, but it was beyond time to give it up.

Perhaps the most difficult part of relinquishing dreams is disappointment and not fulfilling perceived responsibilities. Parable of the talents, if you’re acquainted with that. You feel you’re letting people down—including yourself. You have a responsiblity to use your abilities. And those pep talks—you can be whatever you dream if you want it badly enough. (“What’s wrong with me that I don’t want these things badly enough?” Badly enough for what end—my definition of fulfillment or someone else’s?)

I still write, draw, and dance. (I recently attempted ballet again and arggggh! I mean to say, what were they thinking?) But it’s different now, more relaxed, more like hobbies. There’s no dream-goal driving a pursuit.

Some people call it quits when they’re ready to move on to something new. I don’t know if there’s something new ahead of me, so that’s not my reason. It’s time to move though. I’ve been sitting in the same chair far too long.

Along with writing, dancing, and art I will continue pin loom weaving. I won’t be admin on the PLWSG anymore, and probably won’t spend much time on Facebook.

Guess I’d call that quits.