Lost Mojo

Hello dear readers!

Welcome to the new folks! The sheep are glad to see you and hope to fleece you out of some peanuts.

See what I did there? LOL

I’ll get straight to the point today. I feel like I have lost my mojo over this past winter. The desire to create, write, or do much of anything else.

I know that it is a combination of factors in my life, losing my Robyn, cold dark weather, loneliness, financial struggles, the fact that I stupidly stopped taking Vit D halfway thru the cold months, my body crapping out on me, and I’m sure if I was sitting in front of a doctor, they would say high functioning depression and high functioning anxiety.

Good thing I’m not sitting in front of a doctor. Or an English teacher, that was one heck of a run on sentence.

I have been sitting here picking a beautiful black fleece for a customer this week, and it leaves me a lot of time to muse on my life. Even binging Hell’s Kitchen did not sway my brain away from this. It must be bad if Gordon Ramsay can’t yell the funk out of you.

I have hardly done anything fibery for many months. I did get the one pair of grief socks done, and played with the sock machine. Otherwise, no weaving, no spinning, no nothing. Thinking back, I don’t think I’ve spun any yarn in over a year now. My spinning wheel has been giving me dirty dust laden looks as I pass it by.

And my loom? Sitting there with towels half woven? It’s giving me serious guilt trips for not paying it any attention.

I know all of this stems from the, for me, substantial losses’ I’ve sustained in the intervening 3 ½ years, and the most recent of losing the first two sheep I started the flock with. Quite frankly, it’s devastating to watch your dreams die off. I still have not adjusted to this “new normal” for my life.

I am not sure I ever will.

Happier Days riding the Peak to Peak highway in Colorado.

Some days are better than others. Some days I feel a genuine smile. Other days, if it were not for the house wolves needing to go outside and the sheep wanting their daily freedom, I would probably just stay in bed.

One of the nasty things you find out with grief is who your real friends are. My true friends have been paired down to 3 people. Not one word has come from any of the people who claimed to be Robyn’s friends. I guess that is to be expected. Their world has not substantially changed and they have all moved on. Besides, who wants to deal with a reminder of who and what was lost. Easier to just forget.

Of course there are other nasty things that you find out with grief, but those may be for another day.

So, I’m trying to find my mojo again. Getting my hands in that fleece has helped. Starting to take Vit D again has helped. Seeing green things growing and feeling warm again has helped. Cooking has helped. Trying not to feel so overwhelmed has helped.

Maybe my brain and hands will finally work together to make the sock machine do its thing. Or I need to dust off my wheel and lose myself in the meditative rhythm of spinning.

I think I’ll go take a walk before it starts to rain.

Blessed Be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you are so inclined to make a donation or leave me a tip to help keep the farm going. I am grateful. I am appreciative of any blessing you give. The sheep and I thank you for your generosity.