I used to worry (and every once and awhile still do) that I loved to do too many things.
The worry is/was driven, I think, by being part of a culture that values specialization. Success is often defined as becoming very good at one thing.
That's just not who some of us are.
It's not who I am.
A few months ago (I know I should have paid more attention to where but I can't remember or find where) I discovered an artist that I wanted to know more about, Meryl McMaster.
So, I ordered her book. It arrived at the end of last week and it is full of wonder.
Buffy Sainte-Marie, in the foreword, writes about how it wasn't always that people were specialists.
We knew how to do many things.
After some of the other reading/listening I've been doing recently (Nick Offerman/Wendell Berry in particular), it really clicked into place that we lose something really important when we specialize too much. It's not just about not knowing where food comes from or how something is made, but how we might be and interact with the world around us.
There is a loss of faith in our ability to be something more than a consumer. It shows up every day in the news.
And as I go out into the garden every day right now and collect or harvest for projects or food, I am watch all the changes that are happening so quickly in this season. I am thinking about how much I learn from being curious about growth, about nurturing a garden. Thinking about how a garden is always a process.
About how it influences me as someone who makes things; how I make them and why I make them. A garden is abundant with possibilities.
This is partly a response to Grace's and Jude's posts regarding making, but also something that I am almost always thinking about...
"Tell me what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" Mary Oliver