Spoons

About four times I've tried to write this post today, unable to... hm... get up the nerve.

Yesterday's gift truly threw me for a loop.  Starting in reading it has been, well, um, humbling.  And I've struggled to identify some benchmark I could turn to as a way to grasp this unusual, rather overwhelming kindness.  It's disrupted my thinking so that both yesterday and today, I've been at a loss to produce anything creative.  I've been working around the house, applying myself to physical labour, getting things that should have been put to rights months ago, because my head is in a whirl.

This morning a worthy connection came to mind; it's from the 1955 John Ford film, Mister Roberts.  If you don't know the film, it's difficult to explain exactly how this scene comes about.  Essentially, for decency rendered as an officer, for sacrifices given and for actions taken, specifically tossing a palm tree overboard, the crew decides on their own volition to demonstrate their gratitude to Mr. Roberts.  See the film, if you can.  It's a damn sight better than any other film except for Marty, which deservedly won best picture... and the two of them are close.

This is how the book that was given makes me feel.  If you want to see my face; or hear my voice; and know how hard it's hit me... watch the link.

I'll never watch this film the same way.

So, in lieu of something else, I'm going to take a moment to talk about spoon theory.  This is a metaphor proposed by Christine Miserandino, "describing the amount of physical or mental energy a person has available for daily activities and tasks.  Miserandino applies it to chronic illness and it's logically designed for that, but after a conversation yesterday with my daughter, who brought this to my attention, I think it accurately describes the reality of creative endeavours and our capacity to invent.  In my daughter's case, where I'll begin, it relates to the time she has, as she progresses through the creation of her family unit.  She is, at present, pregnant with her second child.

As she tells it, every day is limited by the needs of her husband, the disabled cousin that lives with them, her not-quite 4 y.o. son (birthday September 28th) and certain medical difficulties arising with the pregnancy.  She has become, in the last four years, increasingly tired of those younger, childless, marriage-less, free spirited persons of her own age who, as my daughter explains, are ready to "take her spoons" in the way of time and favours given, but they don't give very many spoons back, for reasons that obviously don't have to do with the time they have.  I think many of us here can relate to this.  It's not that we don't like our friends.  It's not that we don't want to be there for our friends... is that our friends, particularly those without sincere responsibilities, don't seem to understand that we only have a set number of spoons available to us each day.  And that, when we give a spoon to someone else, because they need us to come help them move, or because they haven't got their rent this month, our sacrificing a spoon means there's something we can't have now for ourselves.

Which is perfectly fine... if now and then, someone comes and helps us clean our house, or move our junk, or clean our carpets, or look after our children, surrendering their spoons so we can use ours for those things we usually don't have time for.

This, however, affects me less than her.  I am only looking after a grandson now and then, and we're grateful that he's collected just as we're running out of the spoons we need to watch him.  Most of the time, I have plenty of spoons when I wake up each morning.  I can spend them on my responsibilities and the things that I enjoy, most of the time.  My issue is a creative scarcity, not a physical one.

Quite a lot of the time, I wake up in the morning without a single creative spoon to my name.  I want creative spoons.  I just don't happen to have any.  I cleaned my carpets last Wednesday with my daughter and when Thursday came around, the one spoon I had was used for the blog post I wrote that day.  I felt it was a good use.  I would have needed two or three spoons to do any serious writing, I didn't have them.  In fact, I haven't had them all week, because realistically, I just don't have the body I had when I was 35.  When I was 35, I didn't have the brain I had now.

Which means, more or less, when I was 35, I had no spoons because I was stupid, and today I have no spoons because I'm tired.

But, I take a rest, I accumulate spoons, and I try to use them as best I can.

Yesterday, by surprise, Osterman, Maddox, Becker and Joslyn sent me a whole freaking bucket of spoons.  I am hip deep in spoons.  I'm just trying to process it.

So, when I feel down; when I have doubts; when I'm not motivated... I know exactly where to go to get myself the spoon I need.  Fellas... thank you.  You cannot guess what it has meant to me.